Page 9

The woman whipped around, mouth open as if to chew him out as well, when a shocked expression crossed her face. “ You? ” There was enough context in that single word to tell she recognized Beolf from somewhere, now that he had her full attention. “By the gods, I thought I got rid of—”

Her tirade was interrupted by two more cloaked guild members walking cautiously through the double doors, followed by one clearly stooped with old age.

The latter clung to an intricately carved staff polished to a high shine.

Topping the black wood was a large Wiran ruby, one of the largest I’ve seen in person, so dark a red it was almost black.

I considered myself well-versed in magic enough to know that ruby was from Julra, commonly used for strong castings of dark magic.

How someone like Nebold got his hands on it was a mystery I mentally marked to review later.

"These greedy bastards want more than a tithe," the woman, Haron, offered up before anyone else could.

"Lest this old skeleton forget who the fuck he's trying to hold hostage!

You know what? I'd like to see you try to fight off the hordes of undead from your own catacombs!

They scream the screams of vengeance for being kept down there!

Let's go, Nebold!" She lunged at the old man, hands outstretched as if to wrap them around his neck, when I lunged thoughtlessly to catch her by an arm.

Once, when I was a boy exploring the gardens with Beolf, I had caught a snake whose width was larger than my lanky wrist as it slithered through the bushes.

It had been a venomous banded topal, and I remember to this day the feeling of holding it behind the jaw as the powerful snake thrashed in my hand.

Knowing it could bite and potentially kill me if I made one wrong move was the most exhilarating and terrifying thing I’d ever done… until now.

Holding Haron by her arm as she thrashed and spat profanities, after seeing what she’d already done to the other guild members, now topped that memory.

Despite the alarms blaring in my mind to let go, the immediate fascination with her took hold of rational thought and promptly kicked it off a ledge.

"Let's all take a step back and calm down.

" I tried to pull Haron a little further from her intended target, not that she responded much to my effort. I barely cleared her shoulders, and judging from her strong build we may even be close to the same weight. It was unlikely I stood a chance to physically move her, if she refused to come along. The second tug was more convincing, drawing her closer to my side. Her eyes were still locked on the old man’s hunched form, hostility tensing her body as if she would pounce at any moment.

This close, I was able to see her eyes were mismatched colors, the left a sparkling blue and the other so dark it appeared black.

Unusual, to say the least. "Guildmaster Nebold, I presume? Did this woman break any laws?"

Suspiciously, the guildmaster seemed hesitant to answer. His wrinkled face crinkled even further as he scowled at the woman. "Not exactly. Or perhaps I should say, not yet. But this one is a feral woman set on a path of destruction, should we allow—"

" Allow? " she screeched incredulously. "You allow me to what?

Exist? Just because I don't have a dick doesn't mean I lack the same gods-given talent as any other necromancer in this fucking crypt!

I buy my right to practice in this profession every damn month, and you want to lock me in a cell because I refuse to accept you as my ‘master’?

" The way her voice pitched lower made it seem like those were his words.

"Well, you can take my final tithe and shove it right up your pretentious ass!

Consider our ties cut, you fucking bone chewer! "

Her arm was ripped from my grasp as she snarled and muttered to herself, spinning on a booted heel and descending the stairs in long, purposeful strides.

Two of the other guild members that came with Nebold made as if to chase her, but a warning bark from Behar startled them enough to hesitate.

He had moved his body between them and her retreating form, hackles raised and lips pulled back slightly to expose long fangs as he began to growl.

The sudden protective gesture from him was surprising, to say the least. He didn't usually warm to people that quickly, much less defend their backs.

The guildmaster sighed and leaned heavily on his staff, the picture of rejection. "Let Haron go. She will come back on her own when she needs the guild again."

"I wouldn't hold my breath on that," Beolf snarked, too quiet for Nebold to hear. "Even the wrath of gods is challenged by a woman scorned. Especially that harpy."

I chose to let the comment go unrebuked. "Guildmaster, could we keep our scheduled meeting?" My question was slightly pointed, very disenchanted with the woman Haron's treatment from him. "I have pressing royal business to discuss and would rather not take any more of your time than necessary."

Honestly, I didn't give a rat's ass about the old man's time—beyond the fact it could be cut short abruptly from the aged look of him—but in my experience, appearing considerate of whoever I planned to manipulate was the first step to lowering their guard.

The decrepit guildmaster was well known for his greed and stinginess, and I knew he saw me as a fat sack of drummons.

And I was anxious to retreat to my study again, to research who this fiery Haron Val Toric woman was.

"Of course, of course! I would never turn away a member of the royal family. My deepest condolences for the loss of the late king, he was a great man and a great ruler."

Nebold's slimy sympathies almost made my gorge rise.

Only years of schooling my face for the public view kept me from showing the pure, unbridled hate and disgust at the words he simpered.

He was one of the few guildmasters who didn't show up weekly at Father's court, trying to get into his good graces for favors and business.

The Gilamorst Necromancy Guild was strong enough to stand on its own, and I had little to no leverage against them.

As much as I hated to acknowledge, I was on the back foot in the upcoming negotiations.

And my request was… an odd one, to say the least.

"Please, come join me in the study." Nebold beckoned with a gnarled hand.

"We will have all the privacy we need there.

I have to say, I was both startled and pleased when your assistant came calling for an appointment.

" The man turned to shuffle back into the hall, his slipper-clad feet silent against the lush pile of the blood red carpet runner beneath our feet.

His two attendants each held a hand out on either side of Nebold's teetering walk, as if ready to steady him at the first sign of falling.

Was he close to death himself?

The practitioner on our right moved to open a door from the main foyer to a receiving room, moving ahead into the room and toward a side table laden with a kettle, small fire plate, and what appeared to be several canisters of tea.

Behar trotted along at my side, nails clicking against the black stone floor not covered by carpet, ears still perked, and tail held high as he took in the environment.

"I sincerely apologize for the unpleasant display you had to witness," Nebold began.

He moved to sit in one of the overstuffed chairs by the unlit fireplace and waved his hand to indicate I take the one opposite him.

My head nodded absently, not taking my eyes from the one preparing our drinks.

"Haron is… she is quite passionate about her career, one could say. "

"It appeared she was under the assumption you were trying to keep her here.

" I kept my voice even and settled into my chair. Immediately, my hand moved to rest on Behar’s head as he sat alert to my right.

"Is this a common practice for your guild?

I would imagine she would be upset if you were trying to detain her unfairly. "

Nebold slouched in his chair, sinking into the cushion so far it seemed about to eat his small body whole.

He delayed answering by carefully leaning the staff against a small table at his elbow.

"It was all a complete misunderstanding.

Miss Haron came to deliver her monthly tithe to our treasurer, and he mentioned the possibility of her taking up a residency in the Gilamorst branch in exchange for a lower monthly amount.

We have had… difficulties finding a necromancer with her particular skillset and felt it would benefit both parties to offer her a room here to more readily serve clients.

Despite her explosive and undesirable personality, Haron Val Toric is an immensely talented practitioner. "

Lie. Lie. Lie.

The lies poured from his mouth as easily as the breath from his lungs. Behar growled again, sensing my growing discomfort listening to those deceptive words. It was easier to take the burden now, drawing on our shared strength to maintain my composure.

"'Undesirable?' 'Explosive?' Those seem like harsh words to describe a lady," I commented. It felt like I took ages to respond.

The man pouring our tea barked a short laugh, quickly trying and failing to mask it as a cough.

Nebold shot the back of his hooded head a particularly dark glare.

"Pardon the insolence of my understudy. He had an…

unfortunate encounter with Haron previously, and has thus developed some bitter emotions he has yet to overcome. "

"I could imagine," I mused, thinking back to the woman I could barely hold back from lunging back into the fight. The banded topal of a woman with fiery hair and interesting eyes. "But aside from the unruly guild member, I am here on other business related to Father's death."