Victor of Tucson-12.30 Old Stomping Grounds

Victor of Tucson-12.30 Old Stomping Grounds

30 – Old Stomping Grounds
In the end, Dar’s careful planning and deal-making won the day. Not only had he already met with nearly half the Assembly members and arranged for their support, but two of his allies put forward other candidates for Vesavo’s seat—men whom his enemies would rally behind, splitting their votes. So, when the final votes were tallied, it was Ronkerz—no surname known—who won with 151 of the 313 votes.
After that, it was up to Dar and a few other senior members of the assembly to break the news to the council. It was a duty Dar was relishing; his enmity toward Lord Roil was equally shared by the imprisoned simian, and there was no doubt Roil would be livid. Victor, as the most junior member of the assembly, wouldn’t be privy to that exchange, however, so he took a moment to find a deserted corner of the Assembly Building and set up his teleportation array. In just a few seconds, he was back at the lake house.
He wasn’t surprised at all to find Cora and Tes swimming, and when he approached, Cora called out from the water, “Victor! Did you know there are caves under the lake?”
He chuckled and called back, “Yes, but I found them the normal way—by taking the stairs down from the cellars!”
She laughed and dove under, and Victor had a feeling she’d be gone a while. Tes looked up from the boardwalk where she sat, her feet dangling, and watched as he tugged off his boots and sat beside her. “It went well?”
He grunted in the affirmative. “Just as Dar and Rexa schemed.”
“Are you done then?”
Victor shook his head. “I think once the council has accepted its fate, Rexa will ask me to be the one to approach Ronkerz.” He looked around. “Where’s Arona?”
“Vesavo’s estate. Apparently, she was quite close with another apprentice and wants to ensure the—um, how did she put it? ‘Vermin and vile lickboots,’ I believe—she wanted to make sure they didn’t overwhelm this friend of hers when it came to divvying things up.”
“He left his estate to the apprentices?”
Tes shook her head. “He left it to no one; they were simply the nearest among Vesavo’s list of associates and enemies.”
He frowned, rubbing his chin. “I wonder if I ought to go help her.”
Tes put a hand on his arm. “Will you stop that? You’re not required to jump into every battle you hear rumors of. Besides, I offered, and Arona scoffed at the notion that any of those ‘simpletons’ might endanger her.”
Victor splashed one foot, watching the water droplets sparkle in the sunlight. “Fair enough.”
“Speaking of battles, you don’t fear Ronkerz?”
Victor inhaled deeply, closing his eyes against the sun’s glare. “No, I think he sort of likes me.”
Tes mimicked his splashing, kicking one foot out. “But if he didn’t?”
“He’s strong, but I could stand against his aura even before I went to Ruhn. I think he’s probably fiercer and more dangerous than ninety percent of the veil walkers in Sojourn, but I’m not afraid of him.”
Tes clicked her tongue. “How
strange
to hear you’re not afraid of someone.”
“
Sarcasm
?” Victor chuckled. “I don’t think you’ve done that to me before.”
“I felt more protective of you before.” She wriggled her hand under his, entwining her fingers with his.
“So now you can tell me how you really feel, huh?”
“I suppose.” She leaned close, pressing her forehead against the side of his head as she whispered in his ear. “Which means I can tell you that I am
not
happy about Dark Ember.”
Victor pressed his head into hers as he searched his mind for an appropriate response. He knew what she meant: she’d offered to come with him—to face Xelhuan by his side. It had tempted Victor, but another part of him had bristled; this was
his
fight. What kind of
titan
would he be if needed to bring a dragon into it? Hadn’t he given his word to Chantico that
he
would face her son? It wouldn’t really matter to others if he did so with some help, but it would matter to
him
—this was a personal matter.
All of that sounded good in his head, but when he opened his mouth to explain things to Tes, all he said was, “It’s something I need
to do alone.”
“So you’ll leave your army at home?”
“We’ll make a foothold on Xelhuan’s island, but then I’ll go ahead. The miasma is too thick for my soldiers.”
Tes’s tone grew a bit sharper. “And you don’t think that says something? If you’re not strong enough to clear the miasma, how can you imagine you can face him alone?”
Victor sat up straight, opening his eyes to look at her. “I’m sure I
could
. I just think it would take a long time. He’s been building that cloud for centuries.”
“Well, I won’t go with you. To Dark Ember, I mean—not if you won’t let me help.”
“That’s good,” Victor said, his voice light. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he added, “I was hoping you’d go somewhere else for me.”
Her bright blue eyes narrowed. “You’re jesting, yes?”
“No, seriously. I was hoping you’d check in on Deyni and Dalla. Deyni’s been dying for you to meet Pakrit.”
Tes’s scowl fell away, and she smiled as she slowly closed her eyes, clearly enjoying memories dancing through her mind. “I did grow fond of that girl. She and Dalla are on Zaafor?”
“Yeah…” Victor told her about Coloss, and then they talked about a dozen other subjects, whiling away the afternoon while Cora made infrequent appearances to let them know that she was still alive and hadn’t gotten lost in any underground grottos, tunnels, or pools. By the time Dar came home, Victor could smell the kitchen and knew it would soon be dinnertime.
The Spirit Master called down from the deck, “Victor, come up. We should speak.”
“I suppose that means he was successful,” Tes said with a sigh, using Victor’s shoulder to boost herself to her feet.
“Yeah, sounds like it.” He stood, regretfully glancing out toward the sunset—the sky bleeding from yellow to crimson to purple where it met the twilight. He sent out a thread of Energy, coiling it along one of the many streams flowing in the direction he sought. He’d been keeping track of Cora’s Energy, and when his thread drew near, he unwound it from the stream and guided it close to her. With an effort of will, he simply
spoke
into her mind, “
Come for dinner.
”
“Having fun?” Tes asked, arms folded against the lake breeze. She’d been giving him tips on how to bind and control an Energy domain, but he’d only partially mastered the lake house.
“I still haven’t been able to send an image through—a projection.”
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“You only need more time here.” She took his elbow, and they climbed up to the deck together.
Victor stood before Dar, who sat on his favorite lounge, sipping a red cocktail that smoldered with roiling green flames. “You look happy.”
Dar nodded. “As would you if one of your oldest enemies was publicly humiliated.”
Tes sat on a nearby lounge and summoned a pair of soft, fleece-lined slippers. As she slipped her feet into them, she asked, “Did it go so well? Did he attempt to resist the Assembly?”
Dar laughed, lying back as he swallowed his drink in one gulp. He belched a small cloud of yellow gas, then nodded. “Exactly! He attempted to call an emergency vote, but we already had a quorum in the building; he was immediately denied. He left on a literal storm cloud. His little controlling alliance has ended.” Dar grunted as he sat up, turning to the side table where he’d set his liquor bottle. “Oh, and Victor, as we expected, Lady Rexa would like you to deliver the offer to Ronkerz.” He grinned as he poured himself another glass. “I suppose it’s safe to say the whole thing is now, once again, on your shoulders.”
Tes made a hissing sound through her teeth. “I’m amazed you lasted as long as you did as this man’s student, Victor.”
“Heh. Dar certainly has a way about him.”
“Fine, slander my great gifts of wisdom.” Dar waved dismissively as he lay back down. “Regardless, Lady Rexa awaits.”
Victor snorted, chuckling softly as he and Tes walked together into the house. “I guess I’ll miss dinner.” He pointed through the window toward the lake. “Cora’s nearly back.”
Tes nodded. “I feel her.”
“Yeah, I suppose you would.” Victor smiled and pulled her into a hug, then, after kissing the top of her head, said, “I’ll be back soon, I hope.”
Tes nodded. “I know where the Iron Prison is.”
###
When Victor descended to the chamber housing the Iron Prison’s portal, old memories rushed back to him—Arcus featuring prominently. He wondered how his former rival was. He wondered whether he was still
alive
. Victor had acted a little put out about having to confront Ronkerz and, hopefully, recruit him to their cause, but the truth was that Victor was eager not only to face the powerful simian but also to see Arcus. He wanted to let the Pyromancer know that he’d kept his promise; his family would be stunned to find him alive.
When he arrived, Victor was a little surprised to find
only
Lady Rexa awaiting him in the portal room. Only a single Energy lamp smoldered in the ceiling, making the scene markedly different from the one when Victor had last been sent into the prison. There was no fanfare, no other iron rankers or steel seekers stood crowded around, and not a single guard patrolled the nearby hallway.
“Victor,” Rexa said. “I’m pleased to see you. I heard accounts of your performance at the Assembly meeting, and it seems you did more than I could have hoped. And now, once again, you’re a key part of things. I believe I could have convinced Ronkerz to accept this offer, but I do not doubt that he’ll be more trusting with you at the meeting.”
“Oh,” Victor nodded slowly. “You’re coming along?”
“I’ve been dealing with Ronkerz during my efforts to free the children from the prison, and yes, I’ve built up something of a rapport. I was eager to see his stronghold—to understand the way he’s had to live these last few centuries.”
Victor shrugged. “So”—he gestured to the center of the room where the portal would appear—“the dungeon will let us in, even though we’re not iron rankers?”
She nodded, summoning a small, silver-veined, blue crystal that pulsed with soft, hazy light. “This is the dungeon’s control crystal. As long as I hold it, I can make exceptions to the laws of the dungeon—even control its portal and its destination point.” She tapped the crystal, and the portal crackled to life at the center of the chamber. “I’ll have the gateway deposit us near Ronkerz’s stronghold.”
Victor nodded. “Cool.” Without thinking, he summoned Lifedrinker and rested her on his shoulder.
The portal shifted in color to a harsh shade of yellow-white. “It’s ready.”
Victor stepped toward the shimmering interdimensional doorway, then paused, glancing at the fae woman with narrowed eyes. “This will take us to Ronkerz? You’re not doing anything other than what we planned, right?”
She smiled, but the expression didn’t carry through to her eyes. Tilting her head, she asked, “What are you implying?”
“I’d just like to hear your answer to that question, if you please, Lady Rexa.”
Her smile spread a little further, and she inclined her head very slightly. “Of course, I’m not going to alter the plan.” Though her words rang true, Victor felt the tiniest tremor of Energy escape the portal, and the shade of its light tinted just a bit toward blue.
“Thank you,” Victor said, and then he stepped through the rip in the fabric of space and time.
When he emerged, he exhaled with relief—the long stony slope was there, and not a hundred paces distant were the massive gates of Rumble Town. He didn’t know what Rexa might have been planning; where she might have sent him, but he was glad he’d tested Dar’s theory that a fae wouldn’t lie directly. He was almost certain she’d been about to do
something
, but there was just enough doubt there that she’d be able to deny it.
As he ran his suspicions through his mind, Rexa stepped onto the path beside him, put her hands on her hips, and turned in a slow circle. “So,” she murmured with a frown, “he didn’t have it any better than those children.” She pointed away from the mountains toward the center of the dungeon. “I met them there,” she said softly. “The children, I mean—at the central portal circle. I took them from this place and found each and every one a home near the city.”
Before Victor could comment, he
felt
Ronkerz. A fiercely bright Core came near, roiling with rage and fire. He turned toward the presence and said, “Hello, Ronkerz.”
Rexa didn’t flinch when the creature appeared—a black-furred brute with eyes like glowing red knives. Ronkerz towered over them, but the hulking figure leaned close and growled, “You smell different, pup.”
Rexa cleared her throat. “Ronkerz, we spoke via the dungeon stone. I’m Lady Rexa.”
“I know. We met when I was banished to this place.” His breath was like a hot bellows, and the bass in his voice made Victor’s bones vibrate. Scowling at the sensation, he relaxed his hold on his body’s potential and shifted in size, slowly drawing to a height with the great simian.
Rexa ignored Victor’s almost compulsive need to avoid being looked down upon and replied smoothly, “That’s correct, and it’s another good reason why I’m here.”
“Another? I’ve yet to hear one.” Ronkerz worked his jaw, his gaze at the fae woman almost disdainful.
“Okay, let’s move on with things. Ronkerz, shake my hand. I have news for you.” Victor held out his hand, looking the hulking simian in the eyes. Ronkerz stared for a moment, then he grunted and clasped Victor’s hand with too-long, cable-like fingers. As he squeezed, Victor grinned and said, “Congratulations, Consul.”
Ronkerz growled, and his eyes flared with murderous red light. “You told them about my army.”
Victor arched an eyebrow. He knew Ronkerz was smart, but he hadn’t anticipated him putting all the pieces together that quickly. “If you figured that out, then you must know why.”
“So you could bully them into giving me a vacancy.” Ronkerz squeezed harder, and Victor matched the pressure. “But you’re too smug—a vacancy
you
created!”
Victor’s grin grew wider, exposing his clenched teeth as he gripped Ronkerz’s fist with all his might. At least so long as he wasn’t berserk, Ronkerz was able to match the pressure. It was clear, though, that he was also straining with everything he had.
Rexa took a step back, looking from Victor to Ronkerz with poorly concealed stupefaction. “Have you been in communication this entire time?”
Ronkerz ignored her, but Victor ground out between clenched teeth, “No.”
Suddenly, Ronkerz’s aura hit him—an avalanche of dark emotions: anger and frustration, the fruit of a life of captivity; bitterness in the face of defeat; the hatred of a righteous man condemned, and dark waves of murderous intent, honed from thousands of life-or-death battles. It washed over Victor, but he didn’t move an
inch.
He narrowed his eyes and let his own aura loose, pushing it against the curtain of hatred. Victor’s aura was carved from desperation, blood, and loss; it was bolstered by love, courage, and sacrifice; and it was driven by the fury of a volcano’s eruption—the will of a primordial titan.
Ronkerz stepped back.
Victor loosened his grip, and he and Ronkerz stared at each other for a while. They each had thoughts filling their minds, clouding their sight and hearing; the world was gone to them in that moment, but Victor only knew
his
thoughts. He was thinking, yet again, about how clever Dar and Rexa were. There wasn’t another person in Sojourn, save
perhaps
Ranish Dar, who could have stood eye to eye, anger to anger, with Ronkerz. Victor would be able to make him listen because he’d earned a kind of respect from Ronkerz that not another being in Sojourn could match.
The great simian nodded, still ignoring Rexa. “I’ll accept—but only if my Big Ones and apprentices can come.”
Rexa finally got a word in that turned Ronkerz’s head. “I’m prepared to accept that on one condition: you must take responsibility for them and determine their level of freedom in the city.” As Ronkerz’s eyes flared with hot anger, and he bared his teeth, Victor put a hand on his shoulder.
The touch was perhaps helpful—focusing the simian’s thoughts—but Ronkerz was smart enough to understand; there were some objectively
bad
people in the Iron Prison. If the Council released them,
someone
had to be responsible for their containment. “You’ll provide an estate?”
Rexa nodded. “We’ve agreed you’re owed restitution. You’ll be made whole, Lord Ronkerz.”
“
Lord
,” Ronkerz rumbled, the wind from his lips ruffling Rexa’s hair.
“It’s a start,” Victor said. “If you’re on the council, you’ll have the votes needed to close this prison—among other things.”
Rexa smiled, extending a dainty hand. “We agree that simple banishment is far cleaner and more civilized than a prison dungeon.”
Ronkerz huffed another hot breath out of his nostrils, then he gripped her hand with his forefinger and thumb. As he shook Rexa’s hand, he looked at Victor and smiled, exposing massive, flat white teeth and dagger-like canines. “There are people waiting to see you.”

12.30 Old Stomping Grounds