Slithering Maze 35: Forward Momentum

Medilus 3, 1278: Court of Lemongrass Inn, Arth Prayogar. Nothing like getting caught off guard to get you going…

Author’s Note: Kingdom of the Slithering Maze is a serialized fiction story that is a part of a collection called the Windtracer Tales. It follows the adventures of Tela Kioni and her crew dealing with expeditions in and around the world of Awldor. There they hunt down lost, and possibly lethal, relics of the Ancient Order, a near-mythical kingdom lost to the centuries old cataclysm, the Great Collapse.

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Previously: Caught by Rima Nimad and her enforcers, Tela was tossed into a cell under Shendril Fortress—otherwise known as the “Shackle”—for questioning. But said questioning takes a different turn when the lich, Rima Nimad, visits Tela with an offer… join her and aid her efforts to manipulate the Jata Kingdom, or watch her friends die. A choice that Tela ultimately refuses. Once left alone, Tela tries to make her escape only to get unexpected help in the form of Atha and Garrik!

Now, on the run, they return back to join the others, only to find things may not be as hoped…

Medilus 3, 1278: Court of Lemongrass Inn, Arth Prayogar. Nothing like getting caught off guard to get you going…

Escape is never calm and orderly. Neither were we. Atha, Garrik, and I had bolted out of the Shackle, making ourselves scarce among the abandoned buildings in Prayogar’s Old Quarter.

It was rough. But sleeping on the musty hardwood floors of a half-forgotten warehouse was an improvement over a prison cell. It helped that we’d stolen most of my belongings back—like my bag and boots. I still felt one bad step away from disaster.

But the next day, the yellow clay walls with white trim of the Lemongrass Inn were a happy sight for my bleary eyes. My nerves didn’t agree.

“This doesn’t feel right,” I murmured, lingering in the alley shadows near the inn.

Sunrise had painted the broad, tiled back courtyard of the Lemongrass in old-penny gold. Blue and green tiles winked among the shine like signal flares. Last night’s rain left a gentle, watery shimmer. Not to be left out, a prairie breeze brought a soft chill.

Even muted slightly by my sun goggles, it was impressive and supposedly relaxing. It didn’t work. The chilling conversation with Rima Nimad murdered any enthusiasm for the architecture.

Atha patted me lightly on the shoulder. I knew it was supposed to be reassuring—I twitched anyway. Nerves are bastards like that.

“Is fine,” he rumbled. “Hyu been through a lot. Not to worry, Healer made a deal with the Trade-Wardens. They know who to bribe or blackmail to make everyone behave.” The minotaur gave me a broad, toothy grin. “Besides, Herd Tolvana’s busy bothering other districts by now, and lich is off wondering how hyu get out of cell.”

I scrubbed a hand over my face, blowing out a sigh.

“Right,” I relented. A pair of stray sand-toned house cats and a fuzzy gray rat eyed us curiously. I stuck my tongue out at them, then waved a hand at Atha and myself. “It’s not like we stand out, anyway. We look more like survivors from a hard night of carousing, not escaping the ugliest prison in three kingdoms.”

Atha chuckled.

“True! Besides, looking rode hard and put up wet make good disguise sometimes. Come! Today needs more excitement. Let’s go get tea and get clean. Healer has to have some brewed by now.”

We crossed the inn’s courtyard, slipping in through the back like a pair of embarrassed teenagers late for curfew. A few patrons in the lobby stared, but I ignored them. The innkeeper shot us a pained look, but wisely kept his comments to himself. I refused to believe we were the strangest thing that had ever walked through the Lemongrass Inn.

I walked up to my room, Atha in tow, feet aching with every step as if they’d turned to iron. The scents of lemongrass oil and wet stone drifted around us as we passed. Relief washed over me the moment I saw the inside of my room, along with its current occupant.

“Ki!” I said raggedly.

Kiyosi jerked up from a wild mess of papers, drawings, and a fresh pot of tea on the table. One of the Iraxi bracers sat in front of him—the centerpiece of his chaos. He erupted out of the chair, racing over to me. I’d barely managed a step before he swept me up in a hard hug—I gave back as good as I got.

“Gods and tides, you’re intact,” he said, relieved. Kiyosi pulled back with a frown, running a hand through his unruly reddish-brown hair. “You are intact, right? No missing fingers?”

I wiggled my fingers at him with a lopsided grin. “All here, and I didn’t bring any severed or mummified ones with me, either.”

“Small favors,” he replied. “I see you got out with your bag and everything, too.”

“No,” I scowled. “Bag, whip, all that… yes. Rima kept the journals. Probably has them on her. She left Baron Marius’ soul crystal in my bag, though.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose with a small groan.

“Of course she left the evil crystal thing in your bag,” he grumbled. “She’s probably using it to track you.”

A warm pulse of… something… behind my eyes countered his complaint. I shook my head.

“No. Don’t ask me how I know, but no, she isn’t.”

He grimaced, forcing on a tight smile.

“Still, I’m glad you’re back and safe.”

Atha chuckled, walking over to help himself to the tea.

“I told hyu I’d bring her back, Healer. No troubles. Guards had nap. Windtracer is free to cause problems to centaurs,” he shrugged. “Now I have tea. All is right in the world.”

Kiyosi opened his mouth to reply, but instead shook his head.

“Where’s Garrik?” he asked.

Atha sniffed his tea, smiling.

“Tracking down Herd Tolvana. Lich, too. Say he knows where lich hides in Old Quarter. Garrik say he let us know.” Atha indicated me with a nod. “He say he owes Tela, so wants to pay back the favor.”

I yawned, waving a hand at Kiyosi when he studied me with that physician’s look.

“Sorry, Ki. Just tired. We slept in an abandoned warehouse when we weren’t running through the worst of Old Quarter. I know I need at least a bath and some hard sleep in a bed. But before I fool with that, what’ve you figured out? Where’s everyone else?”

He looked uneasy, beckoning me over to the table.

“I’ll make it quick so you two can clean up and rest.”

The way he said that unnerved me, but I kept my mouth shut. Kiyosi shuffled through several pages he’d made about magic flow and threads, along with sketches of the Iraxi bracer. Then he opened the old artificer’s journal. Like most Ancient Order books, the page gave off a soft glow, backlighting the letters. Kiyosi tapped the book.

“So, the crystal matters, but it’s the bracer that makes it dangerous. Magic threads inside it bond to the wearer, letting them bleed the trapped elemental for power.” He shook his head, sighing. “It’s both brilliant and disgusting.”

I skimmed his notes. Magic—my stupid mind-magic aside—wasn’t my area. But I knew just enough to understand what he wrote. I gingerly picked up the bracer, turning it over in my hands. Sunlight glimmered through the crystal, and the center danced a lurid reddish-orange—a hint of the fire elemental trapped inside. Delicate lines were carved in the brass bracer like blood grooves. Each was worn smooth from use, lined with amber-like dragon-glass.

“Channels to siphon the magic?” I asked.

Kiyosi nodded solemnly. “Like a vampire sucking blood from a victim.”

I shuddered, putting the bracer back on the table.

“Is the other bracer with Skarri like this one?”

Kiyosi narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips. Atha froze mid-sip, then was really interested in the nearby sheer cotton curtains. I frowned at the two of them.

“What?”

Kiyosi drew a deep breath—which never meant anything good.

“Not sure. We don’t have it.” He quickly held up his hands before I started ranting. “Wait. Listen. We slipped through the groundwater lift ruins like agreed, following some ancient tunnels to the surface.” He ran a hand through his hair, then across his curled tiefling horns. “That’s when we ran straight into Herd Tolvana. It was all really bad luck. Skarri was pretty hurt in the fight. One of the soldiers grabbed the other Iraxi bracer…”

I bolted out the door, aches forgotten.

“Tela! Wait!”

I charged into Skarri’s room—a disheveled, one-woman invasion.

“Skarri?”

The temple guard in question was on her bed, snake tail curled protectively around her. She wore a forest green tunic, war kilt, and way too many bandages. There was enough of the latter that I flinched in sympathy. Her leather armor, sword, and the rest of her gear lay in a neat pile at the foot of the bed.

Mikasi jumped up in alarm from a chair next to the bed, nearly dropping his tea. Skarri’s mouth pulled into a thin line, her cobra-like hood around her head pulled tight back, eyes downcast.

“Tela… I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “Herd Tolvana has one of the Iraxi bracers. I tried, but we were badly outnumbered. They were on us so fast…”

“No,” Mikasi firmly said, setting aside his teacup for safety. “It was my fault. Atha and I got there about that time and I called out like an idiot. It distracted them when they crawled out of that half-collapsed cave mouth. If I hadn’t yelled…”

Skarri gave him a shy smile. “We were still outnumbered. I knew you and Atha were there; it wasn’t your fault.”

I rubbed at the grime on my forehead, crossing over to both of them.

“Stop,” I breathed, frustrated. “Both of you, just stop. This happens, and it’s not anyone’s fault.” Tense and tired, I studied Mikasi and Skarri, bleeding out a sigh. “Blame keeps you standing still, if not chasing your own backside,” I said.

Skarri nodded as Mikasi’s smile returned.

“Herd Tolvana has one of the Iraxi,” Mikasi replied. “They might give it to Rima Nimad. But they also might try to use it, too. From what Ki said, it channels elemental fire. I was thinking that if the channels in the bracer were clogged, it might stop the bracer from working for a little while.”

I paced at the foot of Skarri’s bed, wiggling a finger at Mikasi. Kiyosi and Atha appeared in the doorway.

“Ki knows better than I do, but elemental fire is stupid hot. So whatever we use has to be thicker than water. Also, we’d have to get close. Real close. Still, good idea.”

Kiyosi crossed his arms.

“A thick oil would do, probably laced with sand. It’d smother the fire for a while, but that only delays the problem.”

Atha sipped his tea.

“Then we cut arm off,” he nodded sagely.

Kiyosi slowly turned to look at Atha with a look of pure physician’s horror.

“What?” the minotaur protested. “Hyu thinking same. Besides, they should not put it on in first place.”

I ignored them.

“Rima said both crystals contain fire elementals, shoved in the same way a person becomes a lich.”

The others stiffened as Kiyosi turned a bit green.

“Wait… what?” he sputtered.

I waved a hand at him.

“It’s what she said before she tried to get me to join her in this lunatic plan.”

It was Mikasi’s turn to sputter.

“Isn’t that what Baron Marius tried—”

“Yes, it was,” I interrupted quickly. “I told Rima no. In any case, if Herd Tolvana has the other Iraxi bracer, things are about to get real nasty. Remember Auditor Elkerton?”

Skarri glowered. “Hard to forget someone so pompous.”

I nodded, still pacing.

“True, but he’s got it in for Rima Nimad. Somehow thinks he’s got a plan to kill her. I’d bet he’ll add that Iraxi bracer to whatever dumb idea it is.”

Atha stared off into the middle distance, then caught my eye.

“Three-way war,” he rumbled.

I stopped pacing and nodded in agreement.

“Maybe. Probably.” I frowned, recalling conversations. “Rima wants Arth Prayogar—really all the Jata kingdom. Elkerton wants Rima’s head and Jata for himself. The Council of Seven isn’t going to tolerate either one trying.” I rubbed my chin, eyeing everyone. “Just like during the Brass and Gold Crusades centuries ago, the Iraxi are at the center of this mess. History’s repeating itself.”

No one spoke, so I pushed on.

“Rima has my notes and journal. Herd Tolvana has the other bracer, so Elkerton will try to use it. We need my notes back, and that bracer… er… clogged.”

Mikasi frowned, sitting back down in his chair.

“That’ll delay what they’re doing.” He looked over at me, concerned. “It won’t stop it.”

I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes. “We’ll need a way to prove to the Council of Seven they’re in danger… and keep the Iraxi bracers out of it.”

Skarri shifted in bed, wincing.

“We’d need to get past the lich’s guards and Herd Tolvana,” she said. “So we slip in at night?”

I shook my head. “Sort of… but you can’t.”

“But—” she protested, but I cut her off.

“No. We’ll have to move at the same time to pull this off, then get access to the Council of Seven.” I gestured at Skarri. “Talk to Liru. Get him to set up an audience for us with the Council. He also owes us some serious explanations for what he didn’t tell us about all this with the Iraxi. The rest of us? We’ll need to slip in unnoticed to get the journals and the other bracer.”

“A disguise,” Atha said as calmly as ordering a drink. “We get disguise, we walk in.”

I blinked. He glanced at me, then at Kiyosi, before sipping his tea. A half-grin spread across my face.

“Yeah, we do. Ki? Can you make the rest of us pass as tieflings? The centaurs overlook you here—and we need that.”

Kiyosi scrubbed a hand slowly over his face.

“Oh, of all the… you know what? Yes, I can do that. But it won’t be perfect. We’ll still need a way to move around without getting harassed by the locals.”

Slow hoofbeats and a deliberate throat-clearing from the hallway shattered the planning. Kiyosi and Atha parted like curtains to either side as a centaur filled the doorway.

“Tela Kioni… you have a knack for interrupting my day.” Rhen Shotho sighed wearily. With a look around, the Trade-Warden folded his arms over his chest. “But from what I’ve overheard, you’ll need help from the Trade-Wardens. Also, we need to have a talk about the Iraxi… all of it.”

I gave the Trade-Warden a lopsided grin.

“That’s music to my ears.”

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Windtracer Tales is a work of pure, unashamed fiction. In fact, it considers itself rather fancy and quite proud of itself. Names of characters, places, events, organizations and locations are all creations of the author’s imagination for this fictitious setting. Any resemblance to persons living, dead, or reanimated is coincidental. The opinions expressed are those of the characters and should not be confused with the author’s, since the characters and the author tend to disagree a lot.

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