20. Party Guests

“Caela, you’re banned from the birthday planning committee.”

As Caela looked at the seven people squeezed around Menelaus’ dinner table, it was hard to find fault in Freija’s annoyance.

Freija had found a clean white tablecloth and set the table with Menelaus’ finest cutlery (an admittedly mismatched set, clearly that of a man living alone). Elaborate floral arrangements sat between the plates of dainty sandwiches and slices of cake. The flowers were easy enough to explain, but Caela still wasn’t sure where Freija had conjured the food from.

Great swags of blue and pink blossoms hung from the ceiling, suspended by vines Freija had coaxed out of the woodwork, and every flat surface was scattered with petals and small candles. A warm evening breeze and the scent of herbs drifted in from the garden. The furnishings were immaculate.

Unfortunately, the party’s guests weren’t quite as perfectly arranged.

Caela had managed to drag Johannes from his sanctum, despite Freija making it clear that he still wasn’t in her good books. Wearing a faded paisley tie he claimed was “for special occasions”, the silver-haired wizard sat shoulder-to-giant-shoulder with Valerios, whose pauldrons were still lightly dusted in the debris of Old San Aria. The fully-armoured paladin was glaring at the two new arrivals, who had insisted on flanking the very uncomfortable-looking Lux.

The one-eyed man - Shade - was sitting backwards on his chair, any hint of violence absent from his languid slouch. The other new arrival sat cross-legged on his seat, tail wrapped around his knees.

At the head of the table was Freija, wearing a gauzy party dress and a look of complete dismay.

“I’m sorry,” Caela began. “I needed somewhere quiet to talk.”

She indicated the bored-looking man with the eyepatch.

“This is Shade,” she announced to the others. “He’s Hellebore’s friend.”

“Sure,” Shade said, picking up her narrative. “Me and Shadow used to run together for a while. Good kid. Small hands. We made a good team, until I had to skip town.”

“Leaving them with your debt to the assassins.” Lux said darkly.

Shade spread his hands, unbothered. “It’s not like that. We just had a job go wrong, and when that happens…” He shrugged. “Every man for himself. That’s the thieves’ code.”

If Shade noticed the poor reception to his comment, he didn’t show it. Instead, he pointed to Hellebore’s eyepatch, which Lux had placed between them.

“Shadow - Hellebore - swiped that clever trinket from me. I came back to town recently, and what should I find but your friend here wearing it out in public?”

He chuckled.

“Small world.”

“Oh, really? And why are you back in town?”

This question came from the young tiefling man, appraising Shade with his head tilted to one side. Shade smiled ruefully.

“Old Daedalus wasn’t the biggest fan of Shadow and I. Shadow was unknown enough that they could hide their identity, but I used to work with these people. I had to get out of town, and thought I’d never come back. Then, I heard what happened to the city, and hoped that I could finally return to my home.”

“And get back to business, no doubt.”

Full of injured dignity, Shade appealed to the others. “Hey! How come I’m being interrogated?”

“Maybe because you’re acting weird,” Freija said. “You’re acting awfully casual, considering you just tried to stab one of us in the throat.”

“Your man Lux and I just had a little misunderstanding, that’s all,” Shade said offhandedly. He pointed to the tiefling, receiving a distasteful look in return.

“This one, however, is a complete stranger. For all you know, he could be the assassin!”

“The thief speaks the truth,” rumbled Valerios. “I myself am not clear why we have let this horned fiend into our midst.”

The young man rolled his eyes. “Spare me. I know you’ve ridden across half the continent on that beast you’ve got saddled outside. You have to have met a tiefling before.”

Caela actually hadn’t, at least until she’d come to San Aria. The horned, tailed species were said to have a drop of infernal blood in their veins, although through the wide lens of history, they were no more out of place than, say, an elf in a dwarven mine. Certainly, in the bohemian San Aria, Caela had been able to catalogue most of the species she’d previously only heard about from her uncle.

The tiefling straightened up, interlocking his fingers.

“Let me introduce myself,” he said to the assembled guests. “My name is Kazzik Byrne-Harbington. As your knife-wielding friend implied earlier, my family are wealthy traders from the island of Balatar. Nice place, if you can stand the weather.”

“More importantly,” he continued, “I’m no assassin. Terrible sense of balance, and I couldn’t hit the broad side of Mr Valerios with a throwing knife. Fortunately, I am good at finding things out. For example, I found out that you might know this symbol. Recognise it?”

He flipped open the thin black book and slid it into the centre of the table. Across its pages, drawn in precise strokes, was the concentric symbol they’d seen in Vozloc’s lair. It had been stamped on the box from which San Aria’s destruction had come.

Six heads craned in to get a better look, then launched a verbal barrage at the tiefling.

“How do you know about this symbol?”

“Are you working for Vozloc?”

“How did you know where to find us?”

Kazzik held up his hand, waiting for the flood of questions to cease with an amused smile. As the tide ebbed, one question caught his attention.

“This is a spellbook, no?”

The query came from Johannes, who was examining the annotations around the circular rune, written in a slanting, alien script. Kazzik snatched the book from under his probing finger, snapping it shut with a thin smile.

“Well observed, Mr Tyrol. I happen to dabble in the arcane arts, and this is my tome of knowledge.”

Johannes blinked at him, his hand still half-outstretched.

“May I see it?” he asked, unabashed.

“May I see yours?”

“Good gods, no!” Johannes said, horrified, scooping up his own battered tome from the table.

Shade laughed throatily.

“You conjurers are too protective,” he said. “Makes people like me get the itch to see what’s so valuable.”

“Information, my light-fingered fellow,” Kazzik replied. “That’s my livelihood. Just as your livelihood is, well…”

“...other people’s livelihoods,” Shade finished with a grin.

Kazzik returned his attention to the others, displaying the black leather cover of his book.

“This is how I found you, and why I know we can help each other. My mistress, the lady Mirazh, has done her research on you.”

“You have a ‘mistress’? Is this some creepy sex cult?” Freija asked, wrinkling her nose.

“She’s a relative of mine, if you must know,” Kazzik responded, looking irked. “You can consider me an agent of hers. She sent me because she thinks her problems and your problems might be caused by the same people.”

“Mhm,” said Freija, clearly unconvinced. “So, what - we have a mysterious foreign friend?”

“With benefits!” Kazzik replied brightly, his smile freezing as soon as he realised what he’d said.

“It’s really not a sex thing,” he continued hastily.

Freija allowed the moment to hang for a few agonizing seconds before giving a polite “okay” and folding her hands in front of her. “Well, it’s been…” she began, smoothing out her glossy skirt as she stood, and then evidently thought better of continuing. Choosing peace - for now - she smiled placidly.

“Thank you all for coming. Now, if you’d like to scurry off, Caela and I have to finish a chat we were having earlier….”

Caela had been putting off this moment. However, as she watched Freija prepare to dismiss the group, she knew she’d run out of time.

“You’re right,” she said quietly, slipping the purple envelope from the satchel between her knees. “We can help each other.”

Freija’s mouth fell open with a quiet ‘oh’ as Caela held up  the letter. She reached out to pluck it from Caela’s fingers, but the ranger was too quick. She unfolded the purple parchment and slid it into the centre of the table.

“I got this letter a month ago. It says the source of our problems is in Aegiswood.”

Everyone leaned in to read in silence. Caela braced herself for their reactions.

Kazzik’s groomed eyebrows rose a little more with each line. At last he let out a low whistle.

“Now that’s what I call a lead.”

“You don’t have much time to pick it up, though,” Shade broke in, counting on his tape-wrapped fingers. “The last full moon of summer is less than four weeks away. Do you even know where you’re going?”

“No,” Caela replied dejectedly.

“Because I do.”

She looked up in surprise at the grizzled thief, whose single eye gleamed. Over the other was Hellebore’s eyepatch. She hadn’t noticed him put it on. Or pick it up, for that matter.

“It’ll take you at least two months on the main road,” he drawled nonchalantly. “That’s not accounting for bad weather, or getting lost, or getting stuck up by highwaymen.”

Valerios rested his broad elbows on the table. “I sense you have a better suggestion.”

Shade shrugged airily.

“I used to do jobs up around the Orsale Pass,” he said. “It’s a quiet route that cuts right across the top of the Cirian Mountains. You could get through and down to Ciria’s Palm with time to spare.”

Valerios leaned in further, reeled in by Shade’s pitch.

“And what would you want in return?”

“Call it a mutual favour, vecio. It turns out that my friend Lencia isn’t as friendly as I’d hoped, so I’m hoping to get away from her knives as soon as possible.”

“And there’s the sales pitch,” Freija scoffed. “You could take subtlety lessons from Lux - actually, you could take them from Valerios!”

“It’s fine!” Caela interjected, before an argument erupted. “We’d be happy for you to join us, Shade.”

She turned to Kazzik.

“You too. I’m sure we can all find what we’re looking for in Aegiswood.”

Kazzik mimed an irreverent bow.

“It would be my pleasure to join you.”

Between the two beaming men was a dark cloud: Lux. He’d been staring silently at the letter since Caela had revealed it. Now, he looked balefully at her.

“You didn’t tell me you got this.”

“I guess… I just forgot,” Caela replied, smiling weakly at his stony expression. She avoided his disapproving gaze, busying herself by addressing the group at large.

“I’m going to this meeting, with Shade and Kazzik’s help. I wouldn’t ask any of you to risk your lives for me, especially since some of you have already, but if you want to come along I’d be glad to have you.”

Freija hastily joined Caela on her feet.

“Not that you have to!” she said with facetious sweetness. “It’s probably best to keep the numbers down, anyway-”

“Correct, flower maiden,” Valerios interrupted. “We are willingly seeking out our enemy’s stronghold. Vozloc may only have wielded a fraction of their strength.”

He swept a critical eye across Freija’s skirts, Kazzik’s high cheekbones and Johannes’ liver-spotted hands.

“It would do us well to send an elite strike force and leave the… frailer members behind.”

“Yes! Wait, no, that’s the opposite of what I’m saying!” Freija cried. “It should be the most trustworthy, reliable people. Like Caela and me.”

“Reliable?” Johannes chuckled indulgently. “That’s quite funny, Miss Freija.”

“And what is that supposed to mean, you wrinkled old scr-”

“Enough!” shouted Lux, striking the table in a burst of sparks. Beside him, Shade inspected the film of Candlelight coating his fist with faint interest.

“Glad you didn’t hit me with one of those,” he mused.

“We’re not leaving anyone behind,” Lux insisted, his sea-blue eyes ignited with a golden flame. He looked imploringly around the table.

“Our friends died so that we could survive. This way, we can use the knowledge we gained down there to protect more people who might be in danger.”

He stabbed a finger into the letter.

“This way, their deaths might be worth something.”

The silence was broken by Kazzik waving modestly for attention.

“I wouldn’t want to cause a fuss by my presence, and I understand the team’s objections.”

Here he indicated Valerios and Freija, who still looked uneasy after Lux’s rebuke.

“Perhaps your leader,” he turned to Lux, “can make the call?”

“Leader?” Lux was suddenly bashful, sinking back into his chair. “I’m not the boss, I just have opinions, is all. It’s Caela’s quest.”

Caela recoiled from the idea.

“No!” she said frantically. “Like I said, I’m letting everyone decide for themselves if they want to come.”

Valerios laughed. “That’s the way it is here, little noble. I like to think we’ll stick to a structure of organised chaos, where there is no leadership and emotion trumps reason all the time.”

—

In the end, everyone came along.

The following morning, Kazzik had pulled up to the manor with a mule-drawn cart already heaving with supplies. There wasn’t enough room for one extra passenger, let alone six. Reluctantly, and after much negotiation, he allowed some lower-priority items to be left behind.

“This one’s full of wine!” Freija cried, her voice echoing from where her head was fully inside a wooden barrel. “This must weigh fifty pounds on its own!”

Kazzik, who was directing Lux and Valerios’s unloading efforts, looked around sharply.

“That’s a very good vintage,” he called, “and you can’t get it over here!”

He sighed discontentedly.

“I suppose I’ll just take one bottle for the road.”

He hopped over the edge of the cart to try and staunch the indiscriminate unloading of his possessions. As soon as his back was turned, Caela saw several wine bottles float out of the barrel, an assortment of potions taking their place. She looked around to see Johannes, one hand on his glass orb, the other on his temple. His expression was focused as he manoeuvred the hovering glassware, but his eyes twinkled when they met hers.

“The lad’s very kind to make space for my apparatus,” he said cheerily. “Aegiswood’s Mages’ College is one of the most prestigious in the world, so I would like to take advantage of our time in the city to make a visit.”

“Makes sense,” Caela replied, then paused for a second, checking their distance from the rest of the group. “I’m glad everyone’s coming, even if we all have different reasons.”

Johannes gave her a small bow, causing the remaining wine to wobble precariously in the air.

“Of course. I would be glad to spend some of my few remaining years with this band of adventurers.”

Caela gave him a quizzical look.

“Surely you can’t be that old. You’ve kept up with us so far.”

“Not exactly, my dear. Unlike you,” he said with a faint smile, “I’m only half elvish.”

He tugged one semi-pointed ear to demonstrate.

“I’ve kept the Cold One at bay for a long time, but I fear she’ll take me before I reach my second century.”

Alarmed, Caela opened her mouth to speak reassurances, but he wasn’t finished.

“It’s a very different state of mind,” he continued, “compared to, say, Miss Freija. I’ve heard of human druids living close to a millennium, and she’s an elf on top of that.”

His faraway eyes flicked round to look at Caela directly.

“Don’t blame her for how she acted yesterday. These months will be drops in the ocean of her lived experience, so it’s no wonder she doesn’t seem committed to the cause.”

There was a soft thump as the levitating wine bottles landed on the grass. Johannes slipped his orb into his jacket pocket and nodded his farewell to Caela, seemingly unaware of the emotional chasm he’d opened before her.

—

With the cart loaded, the newly-formed travelling group set off on the northern road. Valerios rode astride his warhorse Hayl while Caela, used to travelling on foot, walked alongside Mene. Freija, Johannes and his weasel familiar all secreted themselves amongst the supplies in the cartbed. Kazzik had been only too happy to give up the reins to Shade and curl up in the back himself, announcing that he was taking a nap. Lux took his place on the front bench of the cart, looking out over the scenery as New San Aria’s tents began to fade into the distance.

To pass time as Shade navigated them along the gently curving road out of the city, Lux began to recount the whole story of their time in San Aria. Caela half-listened from the road beside them, occasionally throwing in details he’d missed or forgotten.

“You fought The Rose?” Shade said incredulously. “And then alongside him?”

He shook his head in disbelief.

“Used to go out of my way to see him fight. Hell of an athlete. I once saw him getting tossed around by a man twice his size, only for him to turn it around in an instant and knock the brute out cold. That’s what I always admired about him. A real survivor.”

He clicked his tongue.

“Damned shame what happened to him and Shadow. Unlucky break.”

“You must’ve been devastated,” Caela said sadly. “Finding out your old partner had died.”

Shade bobbed his head noncommittally.

“Our paths split ways a while back, but yes, it’s sad to hear. I only wish I’d been there myself.”

“What happened between you?” Lux pressed, quickly adding “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, fraté,” Shade replied smoothly. He tugged on the reins, leading the mule onto a dirt track leading off the main road. As the cart began bumping over the uneven ground, Johannes popped up a sleepy head to look forlornly at the paved road falling behind them.

Shade sat in silence for a minute. They passed into an orchard of iuliper trees - just one of many that covered the patchwork foothills of the Cirian Range. Each tiger-striped bough was laden with ripe, palm-sized iulipers, bright red and ready for picking.

“Shadow was my… protegée,” he began, choosing the word carefully. “At first, I just used them as a lookout, but they were always hungry to learn more. Soon we became partners in crime.”

As he spoke, he began idly twisting the strap of his eyepatch around his finger.

“We made a good team. They were always trying to imitate me - Shade, Shadow, you understand? They even took my patch. Maybe it was to see if they could. Maybe it was another thing of mine to have close by.”

His amused expression faltered.

“Still, they didn’t learn everything from me. I was just having fun, you see, and they were always so serious. I never got that. Why steal, if not to gain the means to let your hair down? Here, look at this.”

He let the leather strap snap back into place, and reached for the cuff of his shirt. Holding out his left hand, he whipped back his sleeve, revealing a faded tattoo. Lux and Caela gasped. It was still recognisable as a twisting black snake.

Shade drank in their reactions with a one-eyed grin.

“I wasn’t always a burglar. Started out with the Black Serpents; people pay good money for a clean job. Problem is, Daedalus was always so stuffy, so concerned with reputation. I figured, what’s the point of all that scratch when your boss won’t let you spend it on fun things? So, I cut ties to pursue a more entertaining lifestyle.”

“That’s all it took for them to want you and Hellebore dead?” Lux asked incredulously, but Shade shook his head.

“The Serpents are a jealous ex, yes, but that’s not what really annoyed them,” he said ominously. “But that’s a story for another time. Look! There’s a beautiful view coming up.”

It was a poor excuse to clam up, but Caela had to admit that the rogue was correct. The afternoon sun streamed down on the fruit-laden branches overhead, casting an archipelago of light and shade on the dusty earth. The route ran switch-back up a steep incline, and as Caela matched pace with the others, she breathed in lungfulls of humid, citrussy air.

As the troupe crested the hill, they came to a sudden stop, awestruck by the view ahead. Before them, the Cirian Mountains stretched from horizon to horizon, a set of stone fangs that stretched upwards to pierce right through a layer of fluffy cloud. They seemed impossibly tall and distant, the faraway peaks unimaginable.

“We’re going up there?” Caela asked Shade, who gave her a knowing nod.

“Up and over. Don’t you want to see what those clouds look like from above?”

A crack of his whip sent him speeding onwards, leaving her and his laughter in his wake.

█. Out of the Light >>