A Den of Tricks

  “Which means they lied to us,” I concluded, my stomach turning.

  “Our most burning question is why.” He raised an eyebrow. “But we need to find a way to ask it without arousing suspicion. Who do we talk to about this?”

  “My money’s on Arrah. Once she takes her brother to safety, I’m sure she’ll be able to shed some light on the matter.”

  Heron nodded, then briefly glanced at Lemuel before shifting his intense focus back to me.

  “I think we should try another exploratory mission once Harper and the others are back,” he said, a playful twinkle settling in his pale green eyes. “We could find the tribes beyond the gorges and hear what they have to say about all this.”

  “You know what?” I replied with a smirk. “For a guy who prides himself on, and I quote, ‘not liking the overly brainy stuff much’, your words, not mine… you’re a pretty smart cookie.”

  “You’re rubbing off on me, that’s all.” Heron gave me a warm smile, lighting me up on the inside. I couldn’t help but return it, feeling my lips stretch and my heart sing. Even our banter was taking on a sweet tone, and… I loved it.

  “Are you two married?” the old Iman asked, his question crashing into me like a bucket of icy water. I nearly broke into a sweat trying to answer that. Why am I having trouble answering that?

  Heron and I stared at him for a couple of seconds, then looked at each other and almost simultaneously cleared our throats.

  “No, we’re not,” Heron replied. “We’re part of the same team, and that’s it—”

  “Oh, please!” Lemuel gave us a dismissive wave of his hand. “The longer you deny it, the faster you two are going to burn. My wife and I did the same and wasted ten years before we got together. Both of us were too proud to take the first step, and… well, that’s a decade we could have spent loving each other.”

  What do you say to that?

  I was already burning on the inside. Judging by the look on Heron’s face, so was he. But were we ablaze because of the dynamic between us, or because Lemuel had seen through us in ways I’d never thought possible?

  So, on top of all the questions we had about the Imen, the Exiled Maras, and the daemons, Heron and I were facing ourselves under a big fat question mark. What were we to each other? Most importantly, what did I want him to be to me?

  I am in so much trouble…

  Scarlett

  (Daughter of Jeramiah & Pippa)

  We made it down to the first level of the city, and spent about half an hour looking for Master Specter’s store. This part of Azure Heights was a bit more complicated as far as the streets were concerned—there were no straight lines, but plenty of sinuous junctions, making it easy to miss a turn along the way.

  Master Specter’s shop could easily be missed, given the rustic appearance of the building that housed it. We were on the less “slummy” side of town, but the level of poverty was still visible to the naked eye. Most of the Imen moving around were covered in tattered dark gray and brown cloaks, and some could do with new pairs of shoes.

  The store was closed—the shutters were down, and the main door was locked.

  “He closed already?” Patrik muttered, looking around the corner for any sign of life.

  “It looks like it,” I replied, gazing at the hand-painted sign hung over the door. Specter’s Shop was written in beautiful cursive, with elegant swirls and floral embellishments. “I guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow for the fair.”

  “I was hoping we’d cover more ground by then, but—”

  “What do you want?” An old man’s throaty voice reverberated from above, interrupting Patrik.

  We both glanced up and saw an Iman in his mid-seventies glaring down at us. His skin was pale, and his long white hair was braided in a pattern similar to that of his beard. Metallic beads capped each braid, and they jingled slightly whenever he moved.

  “Are you Master Specter?” Patrik asked.

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Patrik, and this is Scarlett. We’re part of the team that came to help you with your daemon problem.”

  “Ah, yes… I remember you.” The old Iman nodded, with a glimmer of recognition in his pale blue eyes. “You came here in a big ball of light.”

  “Indeed.” Patrik nodded, then frowned. “I thought those bearing the Master titles were all Maras. Or am I wrong?”

  “You are wrong. Though there are very few of my kind who qualify for the title,” Master Specter replied. “Not many literate Imen left in this city, since our people moved out to the western plains. My family line held true to its tradition. Writing and reading were skills that my forefathers did not wish to see fade away with the passage of time.”

  “I understand. We’re here because we were told you might be able to help us with some ingredients,” Patrik said.

  “What are you looking for? I trade in many things.”

  “Herbs and crystals that the Maras might have brought over here from Calliope. Fire orchids, green apatite, and Zurian garnet, to be precise.”

  The old Iman thought about it for a minute, scratching his chin through his beard.

  “I don’t have any of those, but come to the fair tomorrow,” he replied. “I know someone who sells the orchids and the apatite, but you won’t find him anywhere at this time of night. He’s a peculiar fellow…”

  I exhaled sharply, somewhat disappointed that we still had to wait until the morning. Master Specter noticed my dismay, and gave us a brief smile.

  “You’re not going to find Zurian garnet anywhere, though,” he continued. “The few stones that the Maras brought over from their world are currently set in ancient jewelry now. But Neraka has plenty of its own resources. They may not have an identical composition, but they’ll come close enough. There is a garnet mine on the north side, at the base of the mountain. Its walls are riddled with red garnet. The Maras use it for jewelry. You could try that. Take the main road out of the city and turn right at the golden poles. The mine will be about half a mile farther, covered in red flowers.”

  Patrik and I looked at each other, then shrugged in agreement. It was worth a shot.

  “Thank you, Master Specter,” Patrik said, and bowed curtly.

  “Yes, yes, you’re welcome and whatnot.” The old Iman waved him away. “But don’t go out there at night. That area is riddled with dangers. It’s why we stopped mining after dark.”

  “Dangers… You mean daemons?” I asked, and he nodded. “Not to worry, we’ll be careful. Thank you!”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he muttered, then pulled the shutters tight and closed his windows. My blood ran cold with the thought of running into more daemons, but, after what we’d been through in the Valley of Screams, the prospect didn’t seem that frightening anymore. I knew what they looked like and what they were capable of.

  It’s easier to fight an enemy you know.

  “Let’s go,” Patrik said, walking toward the main road leading down to the plain.

  I followed, still replaying the kiss in my mind. The silence between us was something I’d sort of expected. My mind was blank, as I was still adjusting to a reality in which Patrik and I had kissed. Somewhere deep down, fear of rejection lingered—fear that Patrik would later turn around and tell me never to do that again. On the other hand, he had said that he could “see” me. That he acknowledged me as more than just a teammate.

  And here I go, overthinking things at the wrong time…

  The night sky above had turned indigo, with passing clouds that swallowed the stars as they moved toward the east. The second moon was coming up in shades of amber, casting a warmer light over the jagged edges and corners of the city’s white buildings, the picket fences, and the brown cobblestones beneath our feet.

  I stayed behind Patrik for a while, just taking a few minutes to admire his entire frame, from the messy and curly black hair that inched longer at the back, to his broad shoulders and narrow hips—perfectly framed by his
black pants and white cotton shirt, fitted with belts and straps to keep his fighting equipment and Druid supplies in place. I didn’t even notice him stop until I bumped into him.

  “I… Sorry, Patrik, I… I wasn’t looking,” I mumbled, then moved around and proceeded to walk by his side. He watched me quietly as we headed down the main road, occasionally glancing over his shoulder.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

  “Of course. All good, nothing to worry about.” I forced my face into a smile that felt more like a plastic grin.

  “Worried about what might wait for us down at the mine?” His blue eyes nearly pierced through my soul, leaving me with a feeling of nakedness and vulnerability that I had no idea how to overcome. I gave him a weak nod in response, hoping that would end our conversation.

  I was getting nervous, mostly because I wanted him to talk about the kiss—I was dying to hear his thoughts, and, at the same time, I was terrified, but it wasn’t the right time, and I saw no point in just filling the silence with other words. Every thought that my mind was producing was leading back to our kiss in the library.

  Thankfully, he didn’t say much else, either, until we reached the mine.

  We both stopped to stare at it for a couple of minutes. It was just as Master Specter had described it, but it looked absolutely stunning. The garnet mine had a diamond-shaped entrance, with red light flickering from inside, confirming the rich crystal deposits within. It was sheltered beneath a sharp ridge, covered in a sea of red flowers that reminded me of poppies, with large, square petals and thin stems. It contrasted beautifully against the tall, green grass of the plain behind us, and the patches of gray limestone of the mountain base.

  “I think it’s best if I go in, and you keep a lookout,” Patrik suggested.

  I opened my mouth to reply, but froze as the air rippled just a couple of feet behind him.

  “Patrik, watch out!” I growled, and immediately took my sword out, my gaze locked on a pair of red, glimmering eyes as I rushed toward the daemon.

  Patrik muttered a spell under his breath, and I heard water splashing, just as I ran my sword through an invisible daemon’s throat. Droplets of water reached us, some trickling down the fiend’s face and revealing him, inch by inch, as he gurgled blood.

  The screech of a sword was followed by heavy grunting. I turned around and was swiftly faced by another, now-visible daemon. There were two of them left, and Patrik was fighting the other one.

  I dodged my second opponent’s long claws—he missed my side by an inch, at most, further riling me up. He was about five times my size, as far as muscle mass was concerned, and held at least another foot over me. He was quite agile, repeatedly coming at me with his bare hands, but he wasn’t as fast as “the Bullet”.

  I swerved to the left and rammed my fist into his ribs, then darted to the right just as he turned to hit me. I brought my sword up in a diagonal movement and caught his chest in full, the blade sinking at least four inches into his flesh before coming back out with a blood spurt.

  He groaned from the pain, and I quickly turned and beheaded him before he could think of retaliation. The horned bastard hadn’t stood a chance, and, judging by the collapsed mess in front of Patrik, the third daemon hadn’t made it either.

  Patrik and I exchanged glances. He gave me a wink and a confident smirk, then sheathed his sword. He froze, staring somewhere behind me, and gripped his sword again. My instincts kicked in again, and I turned to see two more daemons, both invisible and rippling through the air above us as they jumped off the ridge.

  Before I could even bring my sword up, however, a large black mass shot from the bushes behind the ridge and rammed into one of the daemons. Patrik took on the other one, jumping in front of me, his sword coming out of its scabbard once more.

  “What the…” I managed, as Patrik killed his opponent in less than a minute and looked for the black mass. I found it just twenty feet from us and stilled, realizing what I was looking at. “Patrik, the pit wolf…”

  The giant, black-skinned creature with large red eyes had its fangs sunk into an invisible daemon’s throat, judging by the shape forming beneath a coat of fresh, jugular blood.

  “Whoa,” I murmured, as the pit wolf shuddered and tossed the daemon aside like an old rag doll. “That’s a… good boy?”

  Patrik moved in front of me, in an attempt to shield me from whatever the pit wolf might do next, but I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, unable to take my eyes off the creature.

  “Don’t,” I said to Patrik, recognizing the pit wolf without a charmed collar. “It’s the one we sort of rescued. He won’t hurt us. I think…”

  The beast licked its furless snout, its tongue dangling loosely to the side, and came closer. I walked toward it, putting my sword away and extending my arms out in a peaceful gesture—my heart was hammering in my chest, but I had faith I’d live through this encounter.

  The pit wolf huffed, then shook its immense head and sat on all fours, like a giant dog. Its eyes were gentle as it waited for me to approach it.

  “Scarlett, please, be careful,” Patrik muttered behind me. I knew he was ready to intervene if needed, so that gave me the extra ounce of courage I needed to reach the creature.

  “It’s okay,” I said softly, addressing both Patrik and my strange new ally. “I won’t hurt you… and I’m guessing you don’t want to hurt me either?”

  The pit wolf put its head down on the ground, patiently waiting for me to make the next move. I touched its nose with one trembling hand. It was cold and wet. Just like a dog. Hah…

  I stroked the top of its head as gently as possible, and it responded with a low growl, as if it enjoyed my touch. It made me smile as I looked in its eyes—two pools of red that yielded nothing but gratitude and affection.

  “I think we’re okay here, Patrik,” I said. “You should go inside and take what you need from the mine. Wolf-thingy here and I will keep an eye out for other hunter daemons.”

  “Just… be careful,” Patrik replied, and climbed into the mine.

  I continued stroking the pit wolf’s head. It licked my arm, then slipped forward and slapped its pink tongue against my face, making me giggle and nearly lose my footing. I then moved to scratch its back, focusing on the bony area of its shoulder blades.

  “Hah, you like that, don’t you?” I muttered, delighted by the creature’s reaction. It rolled onto its back, blatantly demanding a belly rub. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

  The pit wolf lay there, its tongue out, waiting.

  “Okay, fine, a belly rub it is, then.” I chuckled and scratched its belly. The skin was soft and warm, a shade of black so intense it seemed unreal, as if someone had painted this creature with black ink. “I should give you a name, though… don’t you think?”

  It yawned, stretching lazily, enjoying the belly rub. My arm was getting tired—this was one big animal to pet! And… a male. Okay… As if sensing my intention to withdraw my hand, he sat up on his hind legs, then brought his head down and nuzzled my face.

  “You are ridiculously friendly, dude! I like you!” I smiled, stroking his thick, muscular neck. He was roughly shorter than an Asian elephant, at a little over two meters, and made me feel so small, yet his ability to exude so much affection made me think of him as a gentle giant. “I’ll bet those collars make you mean, but you’re not mean by nature, are you?”

  The pit wolf huffed again, as if understanding what I’d just asked, and slowly shook his head as he stared at me. A thought crossed my mind then.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  He didn’t take his eyes off me, but didn’t react, either. Maybe I’m overestimating his abilities…

  “Can I call you Jack?”

  He blinked a couple of times, then nodded once. Oh, hell…

  “I don’t know why, but I think Jack suits you.” I shrugged, watching his expression carefully for any sign that he could,
in fact, understand me. “Jack is the name of a guy I know back in my world. He lives in Hawaii. It’s a beautiful island; you’d love it. Anyway, Jack is a human. A big one. He’s like… a gentle giant. Kind of like you.”

  I heard Patrik inside the mine—a metal pick hitting a hard wall, scraping and crumbling sounds followed by another clang. Both Jack and I looked around, checking for hostiles nearby. We seemed to be in the clear for the time being.

  “I don’t understand why you’re here, though,” I said to the pit wolf. He nuzzled my face again, licking my ear in the process. “Is it because I released you from that collar, maybe?”

  He groaned and hid his face against my chest, knocking me over. I laughed and got up, gently stroking his back.

  “It’s okay now, Jack,” I murmured. “I promise I’ll do the same with every pit wolf I see out there. It’s not fair that they use you like that. You must have been so miserable…”

  A couple of minutes went by as I replayed the scene from earlier in my head. Jack had known exactly where to jump and what to bite into in order to deliver a deadly blow.

  “Jack, can you see the daemons?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I’d get an answer. The pit wolf seemed selective in his responses. Jack let out a long and low growl. “I’m not sure what to make of that answer, but I’ll just assume it’s a yes, for now. Or that at least your senses are sharp. Really sharp.”

  Patrik emerged from the cave with a handful of red garnet crystals. He handed them over, and I shoved them into my backpack, while he stared at the pit wolf. Jack held his ground, but seemed to accept Patrik near him… and me. Which was good. The last thing I needed was a repeat of our kiss at some point in the near future, and Jack jumping out of nowhere, biting Patrik’s face off…

  “Is it friendly?” Patrik smirked, slowly reaching a hand out.

  “He hasn’t eaten me yet,” I replied, patting the pit wolf’s head. “I named him Jack. It’s a he. I saw… them.”