Theft, Murder, and Crystals Page 18
Prax drew a dagger from his side pouch and stabbed at Samuel, right towards his eye. Despite how hard Prax drove the weapon down, it simply stopped as soon as it touched the now closed eyelid. The blade curled upwards as if Prax had simply been stabbing at a steel wall.
“Yeah, no,” Samuel said with a chuckle as he reached up and grabbed Prax’s wrist, throwing him to the ground. Prax felt as if his body were nothing more than a sack of potatoes, resisting the strength of the man was near impossible.
“Spellhounds!” Prax shouted. “Guardsmen! To arms!”
“Ahhhh, they can’t hear you,” Samuel said as he stood over the weaponless and disoriented Prax. “I used a spell to turn this little room into our own private meeting space. No sound can get in or out. It’s just you and me.”
“You are wordy for an assassin,” Prax said. He couldn’t believe it would end like this. The men who ordered his death had no idea what was going to happen to their city. Perhaps they simply didn’t care. Either way, Glimmer would be destroyed. Prax had failed. The only solace was that he wouldn’t be around to see the city burn.
“Assassin? No,” Samuel said as he reached his hand down to Prax. After a moment of hesitation, Prax took the hand and climbed back up. “I just want you to know that there is literally not a single thing you can do to kill me.”
“Quite the garish display,” Prax said. He eyed the axe in the corner but remembered what the dagger had done. It would be futile. Instead, Prax merely walked back to his desk and sat down. If this would end in his demise, he would at least get to drink his tea first.
Samuel sat back down in the chair and kicked his feet up on the desk. “So, I hear that you don’t like magic.”
“I have no personal feelings about it one way or another,” Prax said. “Although I might now begin to have some respect for it. But the will of Kalimar is to ban all forms and practices.”
“I see,” Samuel said. “And your job is to make sure that the rules are being followed. Admirable, I suppose. But I have a different plan in mind.”
Prax said nothing. Samuel continued speaking after waiting a moment for an inquiry or a reply. “I’ve been working on creating and distributing magical crystals for quite some time now. It has been quite lucrative and successful on every level. Thanks to the ban on magic, I’m now raking in somewhere between 10,000 to 20,000 gold pieces a week.”
“Your economy is a mystery to me,” Prax said. “I’m assuming that is a lot?”
“The average worker in this city makes around 10 gold a month,” Samuel said. “Unskilled labor, much, much less. So yeah, I would say I’m making a lot.”
“I understand now,” Prax said as he shook his head in derision. “You wish to bribe me. To offer me a bounty of gold and such.”
“Your words, not mine,” Samuel replied. “But you’d have to admit, making quite the haul of money for doing absolutely nothing isn’t the worst arrangement.”
“And having my head removed by my superior officer’s axe would be the final conclusion of said arrangement,” Prax replied. “No. I will take no such part in this.”
Samuel held up another crystal in his hand. “But my dear friend, this could make your skin just as strong as mine.”
Those words gave Prax a moment to pause. He tilted his head. “You offer me your magic?”
“Hell yeah. Anything you want, you get. See, you’re in a tough situation when you really think about it. You’re in charge of this city, right? But you failed miserably to stop magic from existing. My team is fairly large and we’re producing upwards to a thousand crystals a week. Mostly, these crystals are used for domestic things. We don’t sell them as weapons.”
“But you could turn them into weapons,” Prax mused.
“Oh, oh yeah!” Samuel said with a laugh. “Big time. And think about how Kalimar would feel about fighting an entire city, armed to the teeth with magic that doesn’t take years of training. It just takes a small little crystal.”
“We have warriors who know how to overcome magic. The Spellhounds are fierce fighters. They would tear through your people as if they were flies.”
“Oh, they would?” Samuel asked. “That’s a curiosity to me, because, and I don’t want to be rude, but if these spellhounds don’t wield magic, how can they overcome it?”
Prax frowned. “I am unsure.”
“Well, if your major method of spell suppression has failed to stop us here, do you think your Spellhounds will do any better?”
The man had a point. Prax took a sip of his tea and pondered the offer in front of him. “So, what are you saying to me?”
“I’m saying that you can have whatever you like. Money, magic, power. It’s all yours, if you want it. You said you were worried about your superior officer. But really, with a pocket full of crystals, you don’t have anything to worry about.”
These words were silky smooth and confident, for certain. But Prax had little regard for the offers being made. The laws were ironclad, the rules were created by a man on a mission to unify the entire world under his reign. Magic was the great equalizer, the one thing that prevented larger nations from swallowing smaller ones. His entire life, from the moment of his induction into the army, to his first promotion, he had been taught a simple principle: always obey Kalimar.
“You have overplayed your hand,” Prax grunted. “You come barging in here, wielding magic and making such bold claims. You do not understand the values of my people.”
“Come on, man,” Samuel said. “You don’t want to go the other route.”
“And what route is that? Hmm? Do you intend to kill me? You wouldn’t dare. My counter-offer is this. Bring me the mages who have participated in this act and you will be spared.”
“Hah, really? I hold all the power here,” Samuel replied. “You’ve got nothing.”
“You caught me off-guard, I will admit it,” Prax said. “But don’t think you’re safe. We have tools to deal with your kind. You got lucky because I genuinely did not believe anyone would be foolish enough to break into my office. But don’t think I’m afraid. I will die for what I believe in, but then again, something tells me you won’t kill me.”
Samuel’s face betrayed him. Prax could see the façade begin to crack. This man, whoever he was, didn’t have the makings of a killer.
“If…if you seriously won’t bend or budge, then there are other ways to ensure my business stays in operation,” Samuel said. He sighed heavily. “So, Mr. Anti-Magic Man, can you tell me about Glimmer’s first magic ban?”
Prax shrugged. “I have not the time nor the inclination to care about your city’s history.”
“They called it Skinwalking. A rather terrible practice, done by an ancient group of assassins and spies who sought out ways to expand their business.”
The door to Prax’s office opened up and for a moment, Prax went to shout for his comrade, Kern, but it was only a stranger, a man dressed in green clothes and with a scruffy goatee.
“These people,” Samuel continued as he nodded to the man, who produced a crystal from his own pouch. This one was colored like a ruby. “They were able to assume the forms of people. But then again, shapeshifting is old hat for a wizard. No, the Skinwalkers weren’t terrifying because they had the power to assume faces of anyone they chose. It was because they had spells to take the ideas, mannerisms and memories of their target. They could seamlessly become whoever they wanted. No one would suspect a thing.”
Prax felt a cold sensation of fear well up within his heart. He glanced around, looking for something that could possibly aid him, but no there was nothing. How could he have been so complacent? So cocky to believe that no one would try to take him down? Then again, there was no way he could have predicted magic to still work in this damned city.
“Relax, we’re not going to kill you,” Samuel said. “Nah, the way I see it, you’re just a man doing his job. I get it. And unfortunately, you’re doing too good of a job. This gentleman here? He’s an actor
, and more importantly, a man who’s been unemployed for months now. He has assured me that he’s just the right man for the role of a lifetime.”
“They’ll find you out!” Prax shouted as the man raised his crystal high and extended it towards him. “They will execute every last one of you! The moment Kalimar realizes what is happening, this entire city will burn to the ground.”
“Yeah, I’ve been a Glimmerite for my entire life,” Samuel said. “And the only group of people who will ever destroy this city is ourselves. No one else has a snowball’s chance in hell of taking us down.”
Energy flashed a few times from the crystal and red energy surged towards Prax, blinding him for a moment. He blinked rapidly, desperate to get his sight back. After a few seconds, his vision returned to normal. Standing across from him was a man who wore his own face. He wore the same leather armor, the furskins around his shoulders. The axe at his side.
“By Kalimar’s mother…” Prax whispered.
“Impressive,” the false Prax said, examining his own hand. “I believe it worked.”
Samuel nodded at that. “Beautiful.” He glanced at Prax and sighed. “You really could have had anything in the world, as long as you looked the other way. But no, you had to toe the line like a sucker.” He produced a hood and some rope. “Don’t resist, I’m much, much stronger than you.”
“And what do you intend to do with me?” Prax growled.
“We’ll find a nice home for you, somewhere far, far away,” Samuel replied as he stood to his feet.
There was nothing Prax could do. The magic Samuel carried was far too strong for him. He would merely have to cooperate until he found a moment to escape. But once he found a way out, he would visit a might wrath upon them, one that would forever go down in history as the most violent act performed with Glimmer. That much, he swore he would do.
The wheels of the cart creaked as Samuel and Groth rode under the cover of darkness. Gagged and bound in the back of the cart was none other than First Lord Prax. Or at least, the real one. His visage was different now. Cimir had been rather clever with the creation of such a spell meant to shift Prax’s face permanently. Now he looked like some common Glimmerian, not a war-torn fighter.
The first book that Samuel had bought for his friend after their major sale, as a gift, had been a book on magic known as Faces Beyond. Books on magic in the city weren’t nearly as expensive as they had once been. With demand so low, dozens of tomes on magic were available at a bargain and Samuel thought nothing of the titles. He just knew they were about magic and Cimir enjoyed the study. At the time, he hadn’t even bothered thinking about the practical effect of expanding Cimir’s knowledge base. He just wanted to get his friend a gift.
Yet, as Cimir and Samuel discussed their options, behind closed doors with just the two of them, a plan was hatched. Samuel’s first hope was to flip Prax to his side. But, as optimistic as he had been, the last few months had taught him to be prepared for things going south. Options and arguments were discussed until the early morning, until finally they both came to a clever solution.
Captain Markov was the biggest threat to the operation, after Prax. Without Markov’s help, the city watch would quickly crack down on their supplies. A hostile police force was bad news for the business. There needed to be some way to ensure Markov didn’t bail on the operation. Elias would be of no help, self-preservation seemed to be in his second nature. For all the good he had done for Samuel and Cimir, if things started to look shaky, it was almost a guarantee that Elias would flee for sunnier days. Samuel had noted that Elias would often go to the money changers, exchanging his large sums of gold for smaller, easier to carry jewels.
In the end, it was still Samuel and Cimir against the rest of the world. Perhaps it would always be that way. So, neither of them found any inclination to share their plot with the others. It would just make things even more complicated.
“Where are we headed?” Groth asked after an hour of silence.
“Far outside the city, to the northside,” Samuel replied. “There’s a band of brigands and such that like to prowl in the woods. I did some trading with them a while back. Mostly furs and ill-gotten gain. That was back when I was trying to be a fence.”
“Seller of illicit goods,” Groth mumbled. “Much like now?”
“Well, technically we own what we’re selling now, so we’re not fences. We’re uh…”
“Businessmen?” Groth replied.
“Yeah, businessmen,” Samuel agreed. He looked at the map. The torches hitched to the side of the wagon made it bright enough for him to read. They were close to Beggar’s Pass.
Prax groaned and made some more noise, thrashing about in his bonds.
“Oh relax, we’re almost there,” Samuel said.
“I do not understand the purpose of transporting a prisoner like him,” Groth said. “There are many places to get rid of a body within the city.”
“We’re not killing him,” Samuel replied. “I told you that.”
“Letting him live is a grave mistake,” Groth said. “You know full well that he will return somehow.”
Samuel shrugged. “But what is he going to do about it? His face is different now. No one will recognize him. Our version of Prax will just declare the man to be an enemy and cut him down where he stands. This guy lost, and he knows it. Returning would be suicide.”
“And if he journeys home? To speak with Kalimar?”
Samuel was silent to that. He didn’t want to say another word about it. There were many things that Samuel had been willing to do, but killing a captured man, simply because it would be the safest bet wasn’t on his agenda. “Prax will be grateful for the mercy.”
“You are not delivering him a mercy, but a cause for vengeance,” Groth replied. “I wish you would reconsider.”
“What do you care?” Samuel said. “What is any of this to you?”
“I care deeply for your safety. For Cimir’s safety. For the Stonefriend who trains under him. You are my allies and my family,” Groth replied. “A strange family, bound by dark deeds, but a family nonetheless.”
Samuel shrugged at that, he didn’t know what to say to the creature. Groth barely spoke to Samuel and mostly just stood around, listening and watching in silence. He cooperated with any order given, no hesitation and no complaint. Samuel had expected the big guy to leave as soon as he received his voice crystal, but the golem stayed. Why? Samuel didn’t know. Maybe he saw all of the money pouring in and realized staying would be more lucrative than leaving. Then again, the Stonemar never asked for a single coin.
A lone figure emerged from one of the trees and walked into the center of the road.
“Whoa!” Samuel shouted to halt the horses pulling the wagon. They whinnied and neighed, complying with his commands.
“Friend or foe!” Groth shouted as he stood up, towering high above Samuel and the stranger. The moonlight cast across the Stonemar created a terrifying image of a powerful figure, unstoppable and unshakable.
“Friend,” came Cimir’s voice.
Samuel’s heart sank at the sound. He would have much preferred this to be a bandit attack. This was much worse.
“Master Cimir,” Groth said as he stepped down from the cart, causing the wagon to bounce as the excess weight left. “It is good to stand by your side.” He strolled up and stood next to Cimir, facing Samuel.
Cimir did not reply. He merely looked at Samuel and shook his head. “Off of the cart, please.”
Samuel crossed his arms. “No.”
“I wouldn’t recommend staying on,” Cimir answered as he raised his hand high. He was holding a crystal that glowed red in the moonlight.
“Killing him would achieve nothing,” Samuel protested.
“I made my points clear earlier, you said you would take care of it,” Cimir replied. “We’re past the point of discussion.”
Samuel sighed at that. His head drooped down, and he slowly shook it. “You’re making a big m
istake here, this isn’t who we are.”
“And who are we then?” Cimir asked. “Are we idiots who make serious enemies and then let them go?”
‘I had a plan,”
“An asinine one at best. Selling him to slavers? Yes, brilliant. A man doesn’t achieve serious rank and status in any army without cunning,” Cimir shouted. “He’d be back in Glimmer within a month. Or worse, he’ll find a place where magic is freely practiced and reverse the spell.”
Samuel closed his eyes. “We can be better. We have to be.”