The Hidden Illusionist Read online

  “Yeah, we took a room there once. Full of card cheats and whores.”

  “It’s a beautiful tavern. Let’s get going. You’re sleeping in a read bed soon, pal.”

  “How’s your sister?” said Dantis.

  Holding the reins with one hand, Renton squeezed Dantis’s shoulder with the other. “They just accepted her at the Iswell Academy. She talks about you guys nearly every day.”

  “We did what any decent person would do.”

  “Nope, guy, most people who call themselves decent woulda walked on. They’d have stuck their hands in their pockets and hurried by, trying not to catch the bastards’ eyes so they didn’t get drawn in.”

  “It was all Ethan really. He’s the one who charged in; I just followed him. If I’m honest…I don’t know if I would have made the call. I hope I would have, but I don’t know.”

  “I respect a man who can say that. But you have bigger balls than you think, Dan-boy. I’ve seen them. But I don’t care what you might have done. I might have become emperor if I’d been born into the right family. I care about what you did. In the end, man, that’s all that really matters.”

  “What’s new with you, anyway”

  Renton smiled. “I’m getting married.”

  “You’re settling down? No way.”

  “Yup. Met a girl in the Gasping Falls. I’m moving to her place, and we’re getting hitched.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. You owe me a hell of a wedding present after this.”

  Renton whipped the reins, making the horses gallop faster. He wore a beaming smile, and he looked around to take in the sights of the Road of Repent. For a travel-bug like him, even a pitiful road like this was worth seeing.

  Dantis had travelled as much as Renton, but he’d never gone south. He and Ethan stuck to the north, where most of the bigger towns and cities were, hopping from one town to the next whenever they began seeing their faces on wanted posters.

  Even though he’d done a lot of travelling, it was never for pleasure, like Renton. They moved out of necessity, always keeping in front of their enemies – whether that be the law, or the people Ethan was convinced were following them.

  He used to wish he could explore the Fire Isles. To travel from place to place, seeing the coastal ruins in the west, the dense forests north east. Now, after everything he’d seen, he just wanted a place to settle. A nice cottage where he could live out the rest of his life. Maybe one day.

  Soon, Dantis saw something ahead of them. Wait – were there more carts in the distance? A mile further along the Road of Repent were four carts, eight horses, and a bunch of people. Some of them wore black robes.

  A lump formed in his throat as he realized who they were. With their black robes emblazoned with flame prints, they could only be one thing; real Brotherhood of Fire acolytes. Four of them.

  Dantis banged his head back on the seat. Damn it. How was he supposed to escape now?

  “Renton…”

  “Seen ‘em. We’ll take a detour.”

  As he went to direct the horses to another path away from the road, a silver-furred wolf pranced across the road, and stopped in the middle.

  The wolf. He remembered the note the guard gave him in the justice halls; ‘when you see the wolf, run.’

  The horses reared at the sight of the wolf, and the cart thudded to a stop, almost tipping him and Renton out of it. Renton reached to the floor and grabbed a crossbow. He locked an arrow in place, then handed it to Dantis.

  “I’ve never used a crossbow before.”

  “Just keep an eye on the wolf.”

  Renton leaned forward and stroked the chestnut horse nearest to him. “Easy, Sheila. Calm down. It’s just a-”

  A purple trident of light shot through the air. It buzzed with energy, spreading when it smashed into the cart. Purple flames danced over the wood, charring it. As the horses wheezed and reared the cart tipped over onto its side, and Dantis couldn’t help his fall. He collided into Renton.

  They squeezed themselves away from the cart and stood beside it. Renton took the crossbow and looked left to right for the source of the flames.

  “What the hell was that?” he said.

  “A spell,” said Dantis. “Arcane, maybe, judging by the color.”

  Renton sniffed. “Aye, I can smell the mana. But arcane? How do you know that?”

  “I like to read about magic.”

  “There’s our mage,” said Renton. “Bitch.”

  To their right, a hooded figure was standing next to the trunk of a dead tree. She was tall, with curly black hair and pale face. Purple energy sparked around her, and the tree next to her bore scorch marks from her spell. She leaned against the tree in a relaxed pose, as if she was enjoying the moment.

  Renton, holding his crossbow with one hand, grabbed Dantis’s arm. “Get down. I’ll try and get a shot.”

  Another ball of concentrated mana rushed through the air, ocean blue with waves of white flowing in the centre. As it approached, a chill seeped out from it, wafting over his face like a winter gale.

  It smashed into the cart, covering the wood with ice. A blast blew back at Renton, but he ducked quick enough to avoid it. He raised his crossbow and fired a bolt, then watched as it sailed through the air and thudded into the tree next to the woman, inches from target.

  In answer, another blue bolt crashed into the cart. Wood creaked as the ice covered it. It split, groaning apart into two. The horses whinnied. One strained at its reins, but it couldn’t pull free.

  Ice. She’d switched to ice magic. That was clever. Ice was a perfect counter to fire, and it meant the woman knew two mage disciplines enough to swap between them mid-fight. Whoever she was, she was powerful.

  “She’s too much for us,” said Dantis. “We better run. Maybe we can distract her, or…”

  He stopped talking, because he had realized something. Renton was silent. In fact, Renton was spread out on the ground, his face coated in thick chunks of ice.

  Ahead on the Road of Repent, the other acolyte carriages pounded toward them, horses kicking up dust, robed drivers lashing them with whips.

  He shook Renton, but he didn’t stir. The ice thickened around him, forming a freezing mask on his face. His chest was still, his skin lifeless.

  The woman left the tree line and headed in a straight line toward Dantis. A fire bolt flew at her from down the road, but she spread her hand, creating a shield of ice. The arrow smashed into it, and the ice shattered, but the woman pressed on unharmed.

  Arrow after arrow met shield after shield, and still she walked on. She lowered her hands and then raised them swiftly. The ruined cart flew into the air and crashed twenty yards away, leaving Dantis without protection.

  The carriages grew closer now. The woman looked at them. In that briefest of seconds, one of the approaching acolytes loosened a perfectly-aimed shot, and the arrow stuck in the woman’s chest.

  She staggered to one knee while flames lapped on her robes. Panic cut deep in her marble face. She smacked at the flames licking her robe and, gritting her teeth, snapped the end of the bolt sticking from her chest.

  The carriages drew within ten feet, and robed acolytes aimed their crossbows.

  The woman stood up. The flames were gone now. She groaned in pain, then closed her eyes, and when she opened them she stood taller, as if she’d compartmentalized her agony. It was strange, but no blood flowed from where the bolt pierced her chest.

  Dantis kneeled beside Renton, tugging at the ice around his face. No good, it was stuck. He felt his pulse, but it was still. Poor bastard. Wrapped up in our problems. He came to help me, and this is what he got. Who’s gonna tell his sister? His fiancé?

  “I’m sorry, Renton,” he said.

  Four robed acolytes raised fire-bolt crossbows at the woman. There’s no way she can get out of this one.

  With one sweep of her hand, two carriages flew up, as if sucked into the sky. The acolytes shot up ten meters b
efore crashing to the ground in a heap of broken bones. Seeing this, the remaining two acolytes shot fire bolts from their crossbows.

  A wayward arrow skimmed through the air and pierced Dantis’s leg. The sting of the tip met with agony of fire, and the flames lapped over his trousers. He dropped to the ground and rolled. Certain the flames were out, he touched his leg. A shiver of pain ran through him.

  The smell of spent mana thickened in the wind. Dantis coughed, covering his mouth until it passed. Acolytes groaned and moaned, while some stayed silent.

  Dantis grabbed Renton’s crossbow. The agony left him, replaced by the numbness of shock. He struggled to his feet.

  “Don’t move a fucking inch” he said, pointing it at the woman. The crossbow grew heavy in his grip, but he kept it trained on her.

  A hand touched his shoulder. With a start, he realized that she was behind him now. Where she had been just a second earlier, the road was empty.

  “The carriage,” said the woman. Up close, she smelled of spices, and mana swirled around her like a breeze. She emitted a power so strong the air seemed to tremble with it.

  “Carriage? What carriage?” said Dantis.

  “There.”

  A carriage waited on the road, where there hadn’t been a carriage before. There were no horses in front of it. Had she conjured that, too? Dantis got a serious case of mana envy.

  “The carriage,” she said again.

  Ahead, the two remaining acolytes jumped on their carriages and whipped the reins. Their black, muscled stallions wheezed and broke into a run. The carriages headed their way, dust and stones flicking up from the wheels.

  “Why should I?” he said.

  In answer, she held up her hands, where a purple ball grew in her palms.

  “Get in the carriage, Dantis. I won’t ask again. You can keep your toy, if it makes you feel better.”

  What else could he do? Renton was dead, and the Brotherhood acolytes were approaching. He’d been stupid to think he could escape. The only thing in his power to choose was who he went with – the woman, or the acolytes?

  “The carriage it is,” he said.

  Chapter Six

  Ethan

  He hoped Renton had found Dantis. Renton was a good guy, and he felt guilty for involving him. Renton was a traveler, and he wasn’t cut out for this kind of life. Then again, neither was Dantis, really. He’d adapted to it because it was the only choice he had, because Ethan couldn’t make a better life for them. Double pangs of guilt hit him. I’ll see you soon, brother. And then we’ll find somewhere to settle down.

  Bander hummed as when walked alongside him, and his grey ponytail shook with each step. Ethan didn’t know the tune he was making, but it quickly burrowed into his head. Bander wore a belt around his leather armor, and a black-handled dagger stuck from one loop.

  Bander took long strides, not seeming to mind the sun beating down on his leather armor. Golden rays of it washed over his face, illuminating the rune-shaped scars on his cheek and neck.

  “Wondering where I got my scar?”

  “No…I…”

  “Every recruit wonders. Some of them even work up the courage to ask me. It was my father. He was an angry guy, and one night, he was drunk and he heated up a sword and pressed it against my face.”

  Movement in the forest to his left drew his attention. A lizard the size of his head was sitting upright - like an ape - on a felled log. Sunlight shone through cracks in the trees and illuminated the tuft of brown hair that sprouted from its skin.

  It tried to move, but its leg was stuck in a hollow slit in the wood. It squeaked. Ethan approached it.

  “Don’t go in there, Ethan,” said Bander.

  Ignoring the guild master, he approached the lizard. It squirmed away from him, then stilled as Ethan helped it unhook its leg from the wood. Freed, it scampered back.

  Hot breath hissed in his ear. A weight settled against him, and something sniffed his face.

  “Don’t move,” said Bander. The fear in his voice worried Ethan. Bander was a tough guy, by the look of him. If it scared him, then it was something worth being scared about.

  A gust of breath blew on his cheek. An animal grunted, then stamped on the ground. It’s behind me. He wanted to see it. Every cell in his body urged him to turn around, but he didn’t want to make a sudden movement.

  Boots crunched on twigs. “It’s okay,” soothed Bander. “We’re leaving your forest now. We’re going to go, if you’ll let us.”

  It snorted in his ear, sending a jolt of fear through him. What was it?

  “Turn now, Ethan,” said Bander. “Slowly. Whatever you do, no sudden movements.”

  He turned, scared of what he’d see. When he did, he came face to face with another lizard. It resembled the one he’d helped, except it was six feet tall, and muscled rippled under its scaled skin. Auburn hair spread across its back like moss. It looked like it could tear his arm off with the slightest effort.

  The lizard screeched at him. Rows of jagged teeth lined its gums, and rotten breath invaded Ethan’s nostrils.

  “Come over to me now,” said Bander. “He’s letting you go.”

  They left the forest and went back onto the mountain path. It snaked upward, curling toward a castle-like building nestled at the top. The guild was a long way from Wolfpine, and it was remote. He wasn’t worried; right now, Renton would be with Dantis, he hoped, and he’d escape from here in a night or two. He just had to choose his time carefully.

  “So, you wanted to know why we keep the heroes’ guild on the mountain?” said Bander.

  “I didn’t ask that.”

  “But you were thinking it. I saw it in your face. Not used to walks like this, are you, lad?”

  “It’s been four bloody hours since we left Wolfpine. And since you mention it, yeah; I was wondering why the guild is on top a goddamn mountain, rather than in a nice, convenient place like a town.”

  “The forest is full of klizerds, like you just saw,” said Bander. “A dozen families by last count, with around twenty members each. They let us pass if we stick to the path, but you don’t want to get caught in the forest. You were damned lucky. I’ve seen recruits lose arms.”

  “I was only trying to help.”

  “I know. But sometimes, help is interpreted differently. Why do you think we’re happy to have a forest full of klizerds near the guild?”

  “Because anyone who wants to attack the guild would sneak through the forest, and they’d get ripped apart.”

  “Correct, lad. But there’s another reason.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It means none of you buggers can run away from the guild, either.”

  “Okay…but why the mountain? It’s not the only place with good defense.”

  “The forest and its klizerds mean you have to be on guard, even in your own home. It keeps dullards like you mentally agile. Climbing the mountain every couple of weeks builds stamina, gives you grit. You need to remember: every journey starts with a commitment, and it’s a struggle to see it through.”

  “You could have just sewn that on a cushion and built the damn guild in town…”

  He kneeled. When Bander turned to look, he pretended to be tying his bootlaces. Then, catching up to Bander, he brushed his hand along the guildmaster’s belt. It was a light touch, not enough for him to feel, but enough for him to pocket the knife that had been wedged into a loop. Don’t know when I’ll use this, but it’ll come in handy.

  The heroes guildhouse was a stone-built mansion that once belonged to a rich land owner, Bander had explained. After the heroes’ guild rescued his wife from a dungeon, he gifted them the estate. Four giant turrets marked each corner of the building, and sunlight glistened on hundreds of windows.

  The mountains surrounded at the back of the house, with a lightfall gushing over the rocks. These were like waterfalls but made of golden rays sucked from the sun. Giant, arched windows stared out from one wall of the guild, with s
tatues of warriors on either side. The walls glowed bright blue in some places, where luminous-moss had spread. It was an expensive house, but it wasn’t a pretty one; the architecture was jagged, full of spiked turrets and stones. Two banners hung beside the entrance doors, displaying the sword and shield heroes’ guild emblem.

  It took Ethan only a few steps to judge its security. He weighed up its locks, its windows, anywhere a person might break into if they wanted to steal from it. If this were a prospective job, he would have backed away.