Victor of Tucson

Book 8: Chapter 2: An Earnest Appeal

Lam sighed and stood, stretching as she took another deep breath of fresh lake air. She’d been relaxing on the little sandy, gravel-strewn beach outside the entrance to the Grotto, reluctant to leave in case Edeya and Darren found something was wrong and came out prematurely. She’d hardly noticed the hours ticking by as she lazily soaked in the sun and listened to the water lapping against the stony shore.

She wasn’t the only one who’d been enjoying the day; ten or so others, even a couple with a child, had been picnicking on the sand. It was strange to think that children could be playing just a stone’s throw from the entrance to a dungeon. It said a lot about how tame and regulated Sojourn was.

“Guess they’re not coming out early,” she sighed, brushing the sand off her butt. With just a touch of obsessiveness, she pulled out the Farscribe book she shared with Edeya and flipped to the last page, ensuring she hadn’t missed a message. The last note was still the same: We’re in. Everything’s fine—write to you before we camp for the night. Lam couldn’t argue with that, so she tucked the book away and started following the path out of the narrow lakeside gorge. The cave entrance and the beach were at one end, while the access road and public transportation were at the other.

Looking up, squinting into the setting sun, Lam was tempted to flutter her wings and fly to the top, but she saw other flight-gifted folks soaring by occasionally, and she wasn’t sure of the etiquette of it all. If she were honest, she might admit that she didn’t want to flutter around while people soared past—Ghelli flight was best used for flitting between branches, not gliding through canyons. She’d met a few who were fast and could fly great distances, but they had other, more advanced bloodlines. Lam’s race was listed simply as “Ghelli,” and when she’d pushed it into advanced, her wings had grown, and she had gotten faster, but nothing like how Valla could fly.

“A strange tangent,” she muttered, shaking her head. Was she already talking to herself? “I’m not that lonely!” She blushed a little when a pair of youngsters hurried past her, eyeing her strangely as they went. Sighing, she inwardly admitted she was, indeed, lonely and, on top of that, worried. It was quite normal for her to find odd topics to think about to keep from obsessing over Edeya. To her, it seemed mad to send her into a dungeon after all that she’d been through, but everyone disagreed. Victor was the only one who’d been partially on her side, but only because he worried too much. In a way, his agreement had helped Lam to take a second look at herself and realize she was being just as bad.

Ultimately, it hadn’t been anyone’s decision but Edeya’s. Well, she supposed, Edeya’s and Darren's. They were both adults, and they both wanted to go in. “That was that,” she sighed, rounding, she was reasonably sure, the last bend before she’d climb a slight slope to the cluster of carts and temporary storefronts. Apparently, many trailheads started at the same point, and people came out this way for recreation, nature walks, and access to not only the Grotto but several other low-level dungeons. The city rented space near the road to merchants—food vendors, general suppliers, alchemists, and even taxidermists who would buy pelts and monster trophies.

As she crested the rise and saw more and more people, Lam took in the eager faces and the bouncing steps and felt a little jealous. What would she have given to grow up in a place like this? What would she have given to have parents who supported her, whom she didn’t have to flee to seek a life of fortune, selling her early years to the Empire and its Legion? The thought brought her round full circle to Darren and Edeya, and she nodded, a little pride swelling her chest. If she couldn’t have it, then they would. She couldn’t have it, could she? A far-fetched idea began to tickle the back of her mind.

“Excuse me, miss,” a tremulous voice called from a nearby open-backed wagon. Lam paused and turned toward it, her hand opening, ready to summon her hammer from her ring. A girl, maybe seven years old, looking very much like a little red-skinned Shadeni with red, almost pink irises, looked back at her. She was sitting at the back of the wagon, her legs dangling, and beside her was a box of polished stones.

Lam was curious about seeing a Shadeni there, so she stepped toward the wagon, looking for an adult that might belong to the girl. When she didn’t see anyone, she said, “Did you call me?”

“How’d you know?”

“My da has friends who look like you.”

“Your father?”

“Aye, miss. He works in Lord Warin-dak’s household.” That statement made everything fall into place. Of course, the Ridonne would bring servants over with them.

“And you, sweetling? What are you doing here?”

“My da drops me off some mornings so I can sell some little enchantments. Luck stones.” She smiled with pride, exposing her pointy canines as she gestured to the case of polished rocks.

“Luck stones, hmm?” Lam looked again at the sun moving toward the western horizon. “And you’ve been here all day? By yourself?”

“Aye, miss. My da will pick me up when he’s done for the day in the lord’s kennels.”

Lam stepped closer, peering at the colorful, smooth stones. “What do they do?”

“Well, miss, I’m a Spirit Caster like my granny, at least that’s what my da told me. I was born here in Sojourn, so I’ve never met her. I have an affinity for luck, and I put a bit of my spirit into these stones while I polish them. If you have one of my stones in your pocket, you'll find things looking up for you!”

Lam narrowed her eyes and looked more closely at the little girl. She didn’t seem to be lying. She reached for one of the stones, “May I?”

“Please!”

“Hmm.” Lam hefted the little, smooth stone. It was striated with shades of orange and gray, but she felt some warmth emanating, just a hint of Energy. “Luck, you say?”

“That’s right, miss.”

Lam idly rubbed the stone with her thumb, enjoying the sensation. “What’s your name?”

“Dalla, miss.” She ducked her head subserviently.

“Well, Dalla, I know a very strong Spirit Caster, and he’s going to be thrilled to learn about you. Would you mind if I bought a few of your stones?”

“A few?” Her reserved formality faded as her bright eyes widened.

“Oh, aye. I can’t buy one for just one of my friends. Let’s see. I need . . .” Lam counted on her fingers as she silently recited the names of her friends. “Six of them.”

“I sell ‘em for three beads each, miss. Is that all right?”

“Oh, sure. Pick me out your best six, and I’ll get your payment.” While she fished out one of her sacks of Energy beads, Lam couldn’t help thinking of the strange coincidence. She’d run into Warin-dak himself just the other night, and now she’d come across one of his servants’ children? Was this an elaborate ruse? The stones were harmless, and she couldn’t deny the positive nature of the Energy within them. Victor would likely know more—

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“Ahem, would you be the Lady Lam?” a stodgy voice behind her asked. Lam whirled, once again ready to summon her hammer, Victor’s warning fresh in her mind. She relaxed immediately when she saw a small, elderly man with wrinkled green skin and bright white hair. He wore a coachman’s livery—a tall black hat, black jacket, and a striped gray and blue shirt tucked into black pants.

She nodded. “That’s right.”

“I’m one of Lord Dar’s coachmen.”

“Dar? Oh! Ranish Dar?”

The man nodded, the folds of skin on his neck piling up into four distinct layers. “Yes, my lady. Your companion, Victor, has requested you join him at Lord Dar’s lake house.”

“Really? My, how things change! Back home, it was I sending coaches around for Victor.” Lam sighed, shaking her head, then turned back to the little girl. She carefully counted out eighteen beads into her cupped hands, then added three more and offered her a wink. “Those are for you, just in case your father’s counting your profits.”

“Thank you so much, mi . . .” She caught herself, looked at Dar’s driver, and quickly said, “My lady.”

“Sweet girl, you can call me Lam. I hope we meet again.”

“Me too!” Darra said, quickly looking down. Lam knew if her skin weren’t so red, she’d see her cheeks flush with color. She laughed and reached out to tousle the girl’s thick black hair.

“Did you pick me six good ones?”

“Aye! The best!” She scooped up a little pile of the stones she’d gathered by her knee. “They’re all good, but this one,” she held up a gray, silver-flecked, flat stone, about twice the size of Lam’s thumbnail, “is very lucky.” She smiled again, her sharp, white teeth flashing. Lam nodded and took the stones into her palm.

“Then I’ll keep that one with me.”

“Thank you again, Lady, um, Lam.” Again, the little girl ducked her head, and Lam’s heart almost burst. Did she want a child so badly? She sighed, gently tousled her hair again, then turned back to the driver.

“Well? Shouldn’t you show me Lord Dar’s sigil or something?”

“Of course, my lady.” The driver opened his black jacket, displaying a complicated pattern on his vest’s left breast. It meant nothing to Lam, but from what she’d gathered about Dar and the city of Sojourn, it would be suicide for someone to go around pretending to be a member of his household. She nodded and gestured down the row of carts, wagons, and stands.

“Lead the way.”

He pivoted on his heel and began striding toward a hovering, brass-colored metallic conveyance shaped vaguely like a coach—one with no need for wheels or a tongue to tether animals. The inside was spacious, decorated in plush burgundy velour fabric and buttery smooth leather. Lam was the only occupant; the coachman closed her in and entered a different compartment. She sighed, leaning back in one of the soft couches, and opened the perfectly tooled little cabinets, curious about what a man like Ranish Dar stocked in his coach.

As her stomach flipped, indicating the vehicle had lurched into motion, she found a collection of liquors and crystal tumblers. Lam smiled as her mouth began to salivate at the idea of a strong drink; she’d been too stressed lately. Didn’t she deserve to let go a little? Edeya was “safe” in the dungeon; none of Victor’s enemies could reach her there. Lam nodded to herself and poured a quarter glass of a rich, caramel-colored liquor into it. The smell wafting from the glass reminded her of decadent spices and brown sugar. The first sip altered that opinion as she coughed, wondering if her breath had turned to fire.

The second sip went down easier, and Lam was certain the liquor was her new favorite by the third. She wasn’t sure how long the ride took because, as the tension left her body and the warm buzz of the alcohol brought a silly smile to her face, she began to doze. Of course, her half-waking thoughts were focused on Edeya. She saw her smile and heard her laugh. She watched her shouting, her face fiercely determined as she worked to be just as tough as Victor and the other Deep Delvers. The coach vibrated slightly, startling her awake, and Lam chuckled as she tried to snatch at the dream, adding it to her waking memories. When was the last time she’d thought of the mine? What a strange life!

“We’ve arrived, Lady Lam,” the coachman said, standing just outside the open door. Lam yawned and stretched, then, graceful as a cat, slid out of the coach and onto the pink and tan cobbles of a walkway leading to a charming little estate with a tarnished copper roof and white-washed stone walls. In the distance, she could see a long, narrow, landlocked lake, its waters so dark and reflective that they looked like a mirror to the dark, starlit sky.

“Lovely,” she said, smiling.

“Yes, my lady. Lord Dar is proud of this property. He and your friend await within.” He gestured toward the house.

“Excellent.” Lam nodded to him, fished out a handful of Energy beads, and held them out. He accepted them with a smile, and Lam winked, breezing past. At least that was common ground between Fanwath and Sojourn—the servant class was eager for a few extra beads. Or, she supposed, he may have been humoring her. Perhaps she’d just gravely insulted him. The idea made her laugh, and she enjoyed her sudden good mood. A green-skinned, bald man with sharply pointed ears stood near the front door and pulled it wide as she approached.

“Welcome, Lady Lam. The Lord and his guest are on the rear deck. Shall I guide you?”

“Just point the way, good man.” As he did so, she paused on the threshold and gave him a closer look, peering into his yellow irises. “Tell me, what’s the hour?”

“Just past seven.”

“Ah, not so bad. I had such a restful ride in Dar’s coach.” Lam stretched again, then asked, “Does your culture see gratuities favorably?”

“Gratuities are always welcome, my lady.”

“Ah, that’s a relief.” She smiled and handed him a few Energy beads. “Thank you for your candor.” She followed his directions, walking through the foyer, past a small library, a well-appointed parlor, and then into another living area with great, crystal-clear windows open to a deck and the picturesque starlit lake beyond. She saw Dar and Victor right away, standing near the far railing, each holding a glass, talking animatedly. Other green-skinned servants bustled about, nodding deferentially to her as she passed. She stepped onto the smooth, polished decking and said, “Lovely place you have here, Lord Dar.”

The two men stopped talking, and Victor smiled brightly, his eyes twinkling in the starlight. Dar’s eyes were blazing like tiny suns, per usual, but he offered her a smile and gestured for her to approach. They were both gigantic, making her feel small—an absurd notion considering she was a foot taller than an average Ghelli. Still, as she approached, she had to crane her neck to continue looking them in the eye. “Welcome to my lake house, Lam. Victor’s told me a bit about you today; I understand you’ve a few lovely properties of your own.”

“I have some nice homes and recently have gained some beautiful acreage, but this is something quite different. Standing here, with the lake below us and the night sky above, it almost feels like we’re soaring through the stars!”

“Aye! That was my thought when I chose this spot to build. I rather enjoy your description. I may use that to impress the next guest I invite out this way.” Dar gestured toward one of the servants and said, “Bring Lady Lam a glass of the forty-year Rovahl.”

“You’re going to like it, Lam,” Victor said, grinning, and Lam realized his cheeks were flushed; was the giant idiot drunk? She supposed if anyone had liquor that could get the titan buzzed, it would be Dar.

“Your young protégés are safely ensconced in their dungeon?” Dar asked, leaning on an elbow, likely putting a tremendous strain on the railing, as he tried to lower himself more to Lam’s level.

“Well, I’m not sure that’s the right word.” She didn’t know what she’d call Edeya, and to avoid having to think about it too much, she turned the topic to a target closer to hand. “One time, I might have tried to call Victor that, but he quickly outpaced my grasp.”

“I know a very abbreviated version of Victor’s history. He mentioned the mine and your role in his escape. I understand you must have been walking a fine line, trying not to anger the lords and ladies you served while attempting to retain some semblance of morality.”

“I . . .” Lam sighed, and it was her turn to feel flushed. How did the topic get around to this? “I’m not really proud of that time, Lord Dar. Things changed when I met Victor and took Edeya under my wing. I used to do anything possible to improve my lot, to gather wealth and power. I sought a place among the nobility, too blinded by my ambition, my desire to reach a place of respect among them, to see that there were other ways to surpass them. I’m happy to say that, rather than pay homage to their gatekeepers, I joined with Victor, and we made our own gate.”

“You disagree with the notion of nobility?” Dar asked, and Lam wondered if she’d just put her foot in her mouth.

“The notion of it?” She glanced at Victor and saw that he wasn’t really drunk by the clever gleam in his eyes. He nodded, and Lam pressed on, “I have a problem with nobility as it pertains to people being born into positions of power. I’m far more impressed by those who earn their power.”

“Hard to argue with that,” Dar nodded. He gestured to her right, and Lam turned to see one of his servants holding a tray out to her, a tumbler like Victor’s, but smaller, at its center. She lifted the chilled crystal and smelled the amber liquor within. It reminded her quite a lot of the alcohol she’d helped herself to in Dar’s coach. A sip confirmed it was the same stuff, and her smile widened as her tastebuds woke up.

“Excellent stuff, Lord Dar.”

“It’s one of my favorites. Well, Lam, tell me, what will you do with yourself for the next few days?”

“Honestly? I had an idea, Lord Dar. I know Victor’s going to be learning from you for the next, um, few years.” She knew she was making an understatement; Victor had agreed to ten years of servitude, though honestly, it didn’t exactly look like Dar intended to make him work in a quarry.

Victor shifted, perhaps uncomfortable with the reminder. Lam smiled and fluttered her wings, sending motes of golden Energy sparkling down behind her. She watched as both men’s eyes followed the motion, distracted as people always were by the display. She fished her hand into the pocket where she’d stowed Dalla’s stone and gently rubbed it with her thumb. Grinning, she continued, “Dar, might I bargain for your help?” She purposefully left off his honorific.

“Hmm?” He looked into her bright emerald eyes. “I didn’t expect this. Should I sober up before I hear your proposal?”

“I would think a great man such as you could match wits with a lowly soldier like me, no matter the drink involved!” Again, she fluttered her wings and leaned closer, resting one of her hands on the railing between Dar and Victor.

“What’s this got to do with me serving Dar, Lam?” Victor’s tone proved her right; she was making him nervous.

“Well, if you’re going to be in Sojourn for years, and Edeya’s going to be here learning and challenging dungeons and . . . other things, I don’t see me running back to Fanwath to live.”

Dar took a big sip from his very large tumbler of alcohol. “Go on.”

“Well, when you saved Edeya, and she lost all those levels, you mentioned something I found very intriguing. You said something to the effect that there were powerful people who paid greatly for opportunities to have a second run at gaining their levels and Classes, that they sought out master Spirit Casters to perform something very much like what Edeya went through.”

“This is true,” Dar nodded.

“Lam . . .” Victor started to say.

Lam put her hand on Victor’s wrist, startled by how hot his flesh felt. She licked her lips, swallowed, and, in a rush, asked the question, uttering the idea she’d barely realized she’d formed in the back of her mind, “Well, what would it take for me to get you to do that to me? What favor or price could I pay to get you to wash away my accumulated Energy and bring me closer to Edeya’s level?

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