The Lost Runes Saga [Epic Fantasy]

THIRTY-EIGHT

He gave the staff a final once-over, nodded in satisfaction, and left after replenishing the spent runes. The worst of the fighting between the different thief factions seemed to have died down as he made his way across town toward the rune scribes' guild. Perhaps his elimination of Tyv had the desired effect after all. Fjodor would know more.

The distance between the guild and that warehouse wasn't far. Perhaps he might even get to both Alvarn and the thieves before dawn, though the grey haze signaled it was fast approaching.

Any hope of Alvarn just having been delayed fell apart the moment he made it to the steps in front of the rune scribes' guild. The few windows facing the small square in front of the building were dark and empty. Five figures stood at the bottom of the steps, and Vidar recognized the one standing in front of the others.

"Good evening, guildmistress Viktoria. I am looking for Alvarn. Have you seen him?"

"Vidar," she said, her gaze hard, unrelenting. "Alvarn decided to remain in the guild for now. He is one of us, after all. Unlike you."

Vidar worked his jaw, doing his utmost to remain calm. It was a lie, of course. Her face did not betray it, but Vidar knew better. Alvarn would never betray him like that.

"Then I hope you don't mind if I come inside and see him."

Viktoria held up a hand, palm forward. "You will step no closer, Vidar. I am afraid we can't have you near the guild, for safety reasons. We must think of our students. I am sure you understand."

He raised an eyebrow. "Safety? From what I remember, you attacked me when we last met."

Her mouth twisted into a sneer, even as her companions, all of them older, with the look of experience about them, watched in silence. "By your own words, you proclaimed yourself kin to the dragons," she said. "While the guild is well protected, it cannot withstand them all."

"Why would the dragons attack you?" Vidar asked.

A bald man with a thin mustache and dark, beady eyes thrust his finger in Vidar's direction. "How do you know the dragons' intentions? You are a monster!"

"I didn't say that," Vidar said, drawing in a breath and closing his eyes, exhaling slowly, trying to hold himself back from doing what Viktoria wanted. It was clear the guildmistress wanted him to show anger and defiance, to prove her point to the others and give credence to whatever lies she'd fed them.

Vidar did not show anger. But he did give them defiance. "Either you part and let me through to see my friend," he said, "or I will make a path through you."

The group in front of him spread out, and he watched as they produced stakra runes, engraved onto small metal plates, holding them out in front of them in one hand.

"You will not disrespect the rune scribes' guild anymore," Viktoria said. "I am fed up with your lies and antics."

Vidar pointed up. "The dragons are here. What lie did I tell you, guildmistress?"

"Give us the logiz rune!" she shrieked, dropping all semblance of control.

"Never!"

Viktoria waved for the others to begin. Vidar stood stunned for a moment as they put all their weight against stakra runes and released thrusts against him without a moment's hesitation. The algiz shields dealt with the attacks, and he almost chuckled at their weakness.

"You are not hurting anyone with such weak thrusts," he said, positioning his arm, giving them a small taste of what dragon's essence made possible.

His thrust was blocked as well, but the barrier rune it met shimmered and failed. It would not hold against another. A yelp sounded from behind Vidar, and he turned to see a man in a black cloak with the hood up on the ground. He must've been caught in the counter thrust from the rune at Vidar's elbow.

More stakra bursts flew from the members of the guild, and Vidar spotted several dark-clad people skulking up the street toward him. He had walked right into a trap. He gritted his teeth. These people didn't know who they were dealing with, safe and secure in their enormous stone building where they pored over theories and lost lore, while he was out on the streets of Halmstadt, living and dying by the runes.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Vidar strode forward, ignoring those coming up from behind him. Viktoria barked an order and more stakra runes appeared in their hands, and the assault intensified. The thrusts of force nibbled at Vidar's shields as he approached, walking towards Viktoria, holding the staff out in front of him. She stepped back, and two male rune scribes stepped in, closing the gap she had created.

He could see it in their eyes. Steadfast, unwilling to bend. They would not let him pass. The people behind him were running now, so Vidar picked up the pace as well. As he got close, the four in front set kenaz runes alight, hanging from their necks on necklaces Vidar hadn't seen before. The flash of light forced Vidar to look away as he triggered the kenaz rune on his forehead, returning the favor.

He continued, faster now, but not so fast that his staff would trigger their algiz runes, holding the butt of the staff forward, moving with eyes closed until he felt resistance. Eyes closed, Vidar triggered the styrka rune. Screams of horror erupted as one of the rune scribes fell. Vidar hadn't drained enough to kill the man, but he wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

The others were moving away, and Vidar was too blinded to see Viktoria anywhere. Feet crunched in the snow behind him, and he heard metal leaving sheaths. The stakra thrusts still thumped against his barriers, an unending assault.

"He used styrka to kill!" someone hissed.

"Monster," a woman to the side added, her voice like a low growl.

Vidar looked back, saw black fabric flapping, and triggered one of the stakra runes on the side of his staff, making his whole body spin along with it as the weapon slammed into his would-be attacker. The wood held, thankfully, but at least ten more people were coming his way. He sent a stakra thrust into the group, but several algiz runes blocked it. The thrust sent him stumbling backward, past the line of rune scribes. He turned, ready to face Viktoria, but she wasn't there. He couldn't see her anywhere. The coward had fled.

Vidar looked up at the stairs. The door into the rune scribes' guild stood open. A mass of people were descending the stairs, coming for him. The robed assassins were now triggering stakra runes as well, adding to the onslaught.

"Cowards," Vidar snapped as he held out his closed fist toward them, unwilling to show the logiz rune and the line he'd been keeping hidden. He positioned his elbow and used the staff for support as he triggered logiz and stakra, joined as one.

Thrust and flame came together as one, pushing outward in an expanding half-circle. As the thrust met algiz runes hidden among his opponents, the flames of the logiz rune looped up, around, and to the sides, circumventing the barriers to lick and grab hold of cloth and flesh. All those who stood before him screamed and flailed as their robes or cloaks caught fire. A few were unfortunate enough to have the flames touch their hands, faces, or the skin of their necks. He saw how they bubbled and hissed, their skin and flesh breaking down. The sight and smell were horrible, but they were necessary.

None paid him any mind after that attack, and he could have killed them all. For a moment, he considered, but then he thought better of it. They were only guilty of following Viktoria's demented orders. If anyone needed to die, it was her.

Instead, he fled. There was no way forward through the many rune scribes descending the steps. A full-on assault on the most powerful organization in Halmstadt was more than he was ready for. There were other ways of retrieving his friend, other ways into the building.

Vidar ran east, disappearing between houses. The good people of Halmstadt were coming out of their hiding places now, looking up into the sky. Perhaps an exodus would start now, with people leaving, heading beyond the wall, taking their chances out there rather than staying. Perhaps they had gone about this the wrong way, Vidar figured as he ran, looping up north intending to go around the guild. He needed to see Fjodor before the man did something stupid, like joining his faction of the thieves' guild to the others, betraying Ida. Another reason for going to the thieves right away was to request aid. Vidar would need help with the daring rescue of Alvarn, and even perhaps Siv, depending on her circumstances.

It was time for the thieves to stop their fighting. This was not the time for it if they wanted the people of Halmstadt to survive the coming days. This was doubly true with the rune scribes' guild having turned to open, antagonistic hostilities rather than offering the help Alvarn requested.

Vidar hurried along the streets near the wall surrounding Nordstan. Soldiers with kenaz runes patrolled the parapet, and the gates were closed. Already, crowds were gathering, pleading to be let into the fortified part of Halmstadt. He kept his distance, heading west.

The smell of the sea grew ever stronger and cries of gulls, having returned early for spring, filled the gray morning sky. A sliver of orange hinted at the coming sun. Finding the warehouse was easy enough. At first glance, the place was deserted. No lights in the windows, no people around, and not even the slightest of sounds reached him. Vidar banged on the frail wooden door with the back of his fist, rattling the boards. "Hey! It's me!"

It opened on silent, well-oiled hinges right away and a hand reached out of the darkness to grab the front of his coat before pulling him inside with a powerful yank. The door closed and with it, what little light there was to go by disappeared, and the smell of tar and old, damp rope and wood wafted up against him. It was almost as cold inside as out on the street.

"Please don't announce our presence to the entirety of Halmstadt, Vidar," a man whispered. It was not Fjodor.

"Who are you?"

"Don't worry about it," he said, his breath stinking of ale and spoiled meat. "Come with me."

Long fingers closed around Vidar's wrist and pulled him deeper into the darkness until a glimmer of light appeared by their feet, shining between the floorboards. The grip on his arm lessened, then disappeared, and the man fumbled with something on the floor, uttered a low curse, then found what he searched for, opening a trapdoor in the floor.

Gentle candlelight shone from a cellar and warmth streamed up to meet Vidar, who set his foot on the stairs at the man's urging and began his descent.