Metal Mage 5, page 11
“The Elven Council is come this day to--” he began, but he was immediately interrupted.
“Surely, you’ll not let these … people … remain as they are,” another elf hissed.
I glanced in the direction of the voice.
The elf who spoke had fiery red hair slicked back and knotted with what looked like dirty bones at the back. His bright yellow eyes were bloodshot and red around the rim, and his pallor was a sickly yellow. The guards beside him each had several slim bones of some creature stitched into their leather padding, and one wore the head of a snake on a long black leather strand around his neck.
The eldest elf drew another ragged breath.
“Are we to fear the mutt?” he said with what sounded like an attempt at a laugh, but his milky eyes were hollow.
I cocked a brow and fought to keep my mouth shut as I realized the old bastard meant Aurora.
A few snide chuckles came from the elves in the room, but Onym spoke over them.
“There is a weapon strapped to the back of the other,” he informed the aged elf.
“And how do you know it’s a weapon, Onym?” Rhys suddenly challenged.
I watched the two carefully, and as I considered the words, I began to wonder if they had actually said nothing at all about the fight.
There was a loaded silence as the two glared at one another, and I saw the faintest sneer on the braided elf’s lips, but Onym eventually pulled his eyes away and addressed the eldest elf once more.
“It is made of metal and strapped to her in the style of a glaive,” he said cooly. “It is a weapon.”
Rhys snorted, and I furrowed my brow as he gave the subtlest shake of the head.
Somewhere in the room, an elf with a thin voice spoke. “We will inspect the weapon.”
Three elves responded, and while two were all for the suggestion, the third insisted they stop wasting everyone’s time and get on with the meeting.
This was all it took for an argument to pick up.
Everyone began to speak at once in both English and Elvish, even the guards, and while everyone was distracted, I glanced to Cayla.
“There’s no way they’re examining that gun,” I told her in a low voice.
The princess raised her eyebrows slightly. Then she shrugged and whipped the rifle around to her front.
When the gun fired, a stunned silence came over the elves, and a chunk of ceiling crumbled away to reveal a dappled patch of canopy. Bits of rubble fell to the floor and scattered across the tabletop to our left.
Everyone looked at Cayla, but I watched Onym’s face carefully.
The black eyes flared and shot to Rhys. Then the argument erupted again at full volume amongst every elf in the chamber except these two.
I nodded to myself as my suspicions were confirmed. Somehow, neither had said a damn word about us, and I was pretty sure I could guess the reason why.
Meanwhile, the guards who flanked the three seated elves at the head table urged their leaders to heed their words. These elves were dressed less like warriors, and their grave faces gave the impression they were some sort of elite. The rest of the elves and their guards simply shouted their disapproval to the aged elf who stood amongst them at the head of the room.
They argued across the large tables, and with the elves at their sides, and a few of the less aged members of the Council stood to hurl curses at their foes. They pointed long knobby fingers in our direction without looking over, and a few slammed their fists to the tabletops.
Cayla let out a sigh at my side and slowly removed the rest of her bullets. Then she gave me a stern look as she turned.
Aurora followed her to place their weapons against the wall near the door, but Shoshanne and I didn’t move an inch.
Much of the argument had ceased by the time the two women returned to my side, and I sent a discreet nod to the half-elf whose emerald eyes looked uneasily to mine.
The aged elf at the head of the room raised a shaky and withered hand, and the elves reluctantly silenced themselves.
Then the elder blinked slowly as he took a deep breath. “We gather the ten Houses of the Elven Council to hear the address of one Mason Flynt,” he started, “who represents King Temin of Illaria.”
A few elves spat at the name, and the one with bones in his hair, I decided to call him Bones, gave a disgusted snort. “And who is Mason Flynt to speak for a coward of a King?” he asked. His yellow eyes looked me over, and I was pleased to see he was thoroughly unimpressed.
The elder didn’t even spare the effort of turning his head toward the elf. “As these Houses gather here in the hall of the Elven Council, we honor the armistice of Rhoemir,” he continued. “No elf shall arm himself in the hall of the Elven Council. No elf shall spill blood within the neutral bounds of Rhoemir. No elf shall take a prisoner within half a league of the city’s borders, and no elf shall speak a falsehood within this hall.”
The tension of the elves seemed to heighten during this speech, and the guards shifted and stood taller as they eyed one another with a deep distrust.
The revolver dug into the skin at the back of my hip, but I’d always been a fan of technicalities. Technically, he’d said no elf, not no man.
“Mason Flynt,” the eldest said, and his exhaustion caused his voice to waver. “You have the floor.” The elf’s guards supported his weight to help him sit, and he took several deep breaths as his eyes drifted to the wall.
I was half worried the guy was gonna drop dead any minute, so I cleared my throat and got straight to the point. “King Temin sent me here to seek your knowledge and assistance--”
Bones gave another snort, while several others looked like they’d just checked out of the conversation. They sized up the elves in the room instead and muttered to their guards under their breath here and there.
“A dark magic has come to the lands of Illaria and Orebane,” I continued, “and it bears the mark of a rune which is used to possess both beasts and humans alike. We’ve tracked the presence of this rune from Cedis and Serin to Aurum in the far north. One of his henchmen warned his plan is to take over all of the regions, Nalnora included. All we know is that whoever is responsible for the damage this rune has caused calls himself the Master, but without knowledge of rune magic, we struggle to defeat him. I come before you to ask if you recognize this rune, if it reveals anything about who this Master is, and how we might resist the dark magic it possesses.”
“Rune magic is gone from Nalnora,” came a low voice, but when I turned in their direction, the elf who spoke continued to look boredly at his hands. He had long, dull black hair and a single braid in the front that twisted to the back of his head. His guards wore bloody red tunics and metal vambraces I hadn’t seen any other elves with so far.
“So, no elves use rune magic?” I asked.
The silence in the room was unnerving, and it lasted an uncomfortable amount of time.
Then the bored elf addressed his fingertips. “None.”
An elf at the opposite table spoke to him in Elvish with a disdainful voice.
Something that was said immediately infuriated the black-haired elf, and he suddenly leaned forward to hurl a stream of Elvish words at the other. A blood red guard sneered and added his two cents, and another argument commenced.
I sighed as I waited and wondered how anyone ever got shit done with these guys, but my irritation won out after a full minute had gone by.
I raised my voice above the torrent of Elvish that flew around the room.
“But you still have knowledge of the magic?” I asked, and every livid face snapped to mine. Silence fell, and I cleared my throat. “You know more of the rune magic than we do. Anything you can tell us would be helpful I’m sure. The rune looks like a burnt upside-down tree, and whatever it’s etched into becomes violently possessed, sometimes fully embodied by the Master himself.”
When I finished, it was the ten heads of the Houses who spoke, and they talked over one another with various degrees of insult, disgust, and anger.
“You expect us to just give the secrets of rune magic to an Illarian messenger?”
“What makes you think that any elf here would so much as--”
“No man has wielded rune magic, and certainly none ever will.”
Then the elf with the long blue hair who we’d met in the outer chamber stood. He was amongst the four at the head table, and the other council members looked to him. “You speak a fool’s errand,” he said solemnly. “House Aelin declares cessation.”
Then the grave elf turned from the table without another word, and his guards followed close behind. They exited through a wooden door in the far corner of the chamber, and two other members of the head table rose to join him.
Both were clad in velvet robes that showed great wealth, and one had several glinting rings on both hands. “House Pree declares cessation,” he said as he nodded to his guards and turned from the table.
“House Elyn declares cessation,” the other said as well before he leaned his weight on a long ornately crafted staff and led his own guards from the room.
I saw Bones begin to mutter to himself as his yellow eyes burned into the backs of the retreating elves, and the Council member beside him shot a venomous look in his direction but said nothing.
Then the eldest elf motioned with a shaky hand to his own guards. The two elves quickly stooped and hooked their arms beneath his frail elbows to help him stand.
He swayed as he reached for the table and drew a long breath. “Mason Flynt,” he began, “the errand you bring before the Elven Council is not one that can be resolved here today. Many months must be allowed for deliberation, and a majority rule alone will determine whether that deliberation is in your favor. You are dismissed.”
I furrowed my brow, but Bones spoke before I could.
His voice was tight with fury, and his yellow eyes flashed to the several elves in the chamber. “House Cerise would sooner slay that majority than allow a human to--”
This time it was the head of Rhys’ house who interrupted. “You would make such a threat such within the bounds of Rhoemir?” he challenged.
The bone laden guards bristled at the words. Their leader only grinned, though, and his teeth were nearly as yellow as his serpentine eyes.
Onym hissed something that sounded seriously ominous to the head of Rhys’ House, but the braided elf slammed his hands to the table before he’d finished.
Even in Elvish, I could tell Rhys defended his leader, and the argument between the two enemies escalated quickly.
Finally, the tension in the room broke as Onym whipped out a dagger he’d concealed behind his back.
It soared through the air in Rhys’ direction, but the braided elf swiftly ducked, and the moment he shot up again, he hurled his own dagger straight toward Onym.
Suddenly, all of the guards moved at once, and while some drew stout blades from their boots and backs, others grabbed planks of rotted wood from the ground and broke them over the heads of their enemies.
The members of the Council quickly rose and made for the doors, and I didn’t waste any time.
Cayla grabbed her gun when we reached the large wooden doors, and as I shoved them open for the women to exit, my eyes caught on a familiar figure I hadn’t noticed before.
She was down in the shadows behind one of the long stone tables, and I trailed the jet-black limbs as she followed a group of elves through the far door. For a split second, I thought I’d imagined it, but nothing could have been mistaken for her. The Baroness was a woman I wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
Then a dagger pierced the wood beside my head, and I didn’t bother to look back to see who’d thrown it.
We sprinted through the dilapidated chamber and out into the courtyard, and as we leapt down the crumbling steps, I saw several members of the council and a couple of their guards duck into the line of trees behind the aged buildings.
Once we were back behind the huts we’d passed to reach the southern road, we finally slowed down.
Aurora turned her head to say something, but an arrow flew right past her nose.
Cayla stopped and flipped around with her rifle drawn.
I couldn’t see anyone in the trees or in the thin strip between the forest and the huts, and Shoshanne gave me an uneasy glance as she pulled my arm along.
“We need to get out of here,” she warned.
I nodded and took Aurora’s hand to lead us back between the huts and onto the dirt roads of the city.
“Don’t stop ‘til you get to Bobbie,” I instructed the others as we broke into a run, and I dropped back behind the three women. The marketplace was even more crowded than it had been when we arrived, and as we pushed through the throng of armed elves, I saw a few of the guards from the meeting who had just reached the marketplace as well.
They quickly found their men, and I craned my neck to watch for their next move. After they exchanged only a few words, their comrades immediately turned from the shops.
Everywhere I looked, elves began to flee the square, and as we reached the road, I heard the familiar sound of swords being pulled from their sheaths as angry voices rose up.
Many of the merchants huddled behind their huts or ran along the road, and they eyed us furiously as we sprinted past.
The second we split off into the trees, I raised my arm and sent my magic out to free Bobbie from the rocks, and her engine was already running when we reached her.
Aurora and Shoshanne mounted quickly, but Cayla cocked her rifle instead.
My magic sparked to pull the dwarven sword from the sidecar, and when I flipped around, I found Onym with his hands held up.
He glared down the barrel of the rifle for a long moment before his eerie black eyes flashed to mine. “I mean you no harm,” he said.
His tone suggested the opposite, and I wondered if he was even capable of not sounding like a snake as I stepped to Cayla’s side.
Then I raised the hefty blade to the level of the elf’s neck with a grin.
Onym’s lips twitched in anger.
It looked like it took all of his effort, but he eventually spoke with a forced civility.
“House Natyr wishes to extend their council to you,” he said in a low voice. “You need our help.”
“Do I, though?” I asked.
It was almost hilarious to watch the deadly man wrestle with his rage, but he somehow managed it. “Yes,” he hissed. “Follow this road two leagues west. One league south at the gorge. The head of House Natyr awaits your arrival.”
The serpentine eyes flashed to the rifle once more before he slowly backed away, and this time I recognized the greed in the look on his face. When he’d reached the road, he quickly turned and disappeared from sight.
Several screams rose from the direction of Rhoemir, and I quickly stowed the sword as I mounted Bobbie.
We sped back along the road at top speed, and when we got to the bridge, we crossed over the river and kept on going.
I finally brought Bobbie to a stop when we entered a large gorge filled with dense moss, and the moment the engine cut, Aurora turned her head.
“You’re not actually going to meet with that creep’s House, are you?” she asked tensely.
“I don’t know,” I returned in a low voice. At the moment, I was mostly focused on quieting the rage that pulsed through my veins, and I ground my teeth as I decided what to do next.
I looked down the road that continued in front of us. Then I turned Bobbie into the trees toward the south.
Aurora shook her head as I did, but I leaned toward her ear and attempted to mask how pissed I was when I spoke.
“We’ll find a place to camp,” was all I said.
Chapter 8
Two miles south, I turned to the west and followed the sound of water until the trees parted around a small pond. The water was clear blue with a small waterfall on the opposite bank that trickled over a rocky embankment like the one we’d camped beside on our first night in Nalnora.
I scanned the edge of the forest, and once I was sure there were no Raxis in sight, I took Bobbie around the pond and parked her near the embankment. All of us were tense after the meeting, and even though I could see the women had some questions, I knew I needed to work off my anger before I was fit to talk to anyone.
“Why don’t you ladies look the place over while I build us a hut,” I said, and I could see they understood.
They all nodded and went to walk along the pond, and I took a few breaths before I headed to the waterfall to cool off. The water fell along a mossy wall of rocks and was the perfect temperature. I splashed my face all over once to clear my head, and I dunked it right into the waterfall for good measure. Then I stretched out the tension in my arms and decided to climb up the embankment to get a look at where we were.
Even at the top, I was far below the canopy of trees, but I could finally see above the giant ferns and flowers of the jungle, and as I looked around, I noticed the trees thinned considerably in one spot to the east of us. Judging by the distance, I figured this was where House Natyr was.
I scruffed my beard as I recalled the eerie black eyes that had flashed at the rifle, and then I dropped onto my ass to think for a bit.
There was no way in hell I would hand a gun to a guy like Onym, but I knew that’s what he wanted. I’d seen it clear as day in his serpentine eyes, and after the show at the meeting, I was half sure Rhys wouldn’t mind getting his hands on one as well.
I dug the revolver out of my back pocket and placed it on the rocks beside me, and as I did, I heard a giggle come from the pond below. I scooted to the edge of the embankment and saw the three women already undressed and up to their waists in the blue water.
Shoshanne laughed as Aurora splashed water across her front, and Cayla dropped her head under the water’s surface to snatch the half-elf’s leg.
Aurora dropped straight down with a screech, and when she resurfaced, she was tangled with the princess. They rolled over each other, and as Shoshanne swam to join them, the princess laughed and splashed at her playfully.
