Victor of Tucson-12.31 All in Order

Victor of Tucson-12.31 All in Order

31 – All in Order
“Ahem,” Lady Rexa said, as Ronkerz and Victor continued to stare at one another. “Do you suppose, Lord Ronkerz, that we might spend some time discussing strategies—logistics—for your extraction? I’d like to give you the lay of the land, so to speak, politically.”
Ronkerz glared at Rexa with his sharp, baleful red eyes. “I’ll listen, Fae witch, but don’t think to use me as a puppet. You’ll find my strings too uncomfortable to wield.”
Rexa took the insult without batting an eye. Her smile didn’t falter as she replied, “Excellent. You’ll find that you and I see things through a similarly unclouded lens; so long as you remain true to your convictions, I’ll see no need to attempt any influence.”
The great simian clapped Victor on the shoulder and gestured toward the gates to Rumble Town. “Go and see my Big Ones. Give them the news. More than one would like to speak to you.” His eyes drifted to Lifedrinker’s massive, dark blade, still resting on Victor’s shoulder. “And your axe.”
Victor didn’t take the words as a dismissal, but more as a
release
. Ronkerz was signaling that he wasn’t worried about dealing with Rexa, and he didn’t need Victor to look out for him. Signaling his agreement, he turned to her and asked, “How long?”
“No more than an hour. I’ll force a council meeting later today to begin the process.”
“All right.” With a final nod to Ronkerz, Victor walked up the long slope toward the gates. A small part of him, a tiny paranoid voice, wondered if Rexa was still scheming somehow. Would she leave him in the dungeon? He immediately dismissed the notion; there was a reason the dungeon wasn’t meant to hold veil walkers—a reason they feared Ronkerz’s escape: if Victor wanted to, he had no doubt he could destroy the pocket realm in which it was contained. His depth of Energy—the power he could pour into a destructive spell like Wake the Earth—was exponentially greater than when he’d been an iron ranker.
When he strode through the gates, he saw the people of Rumble Town lining the cliff-side shanties, watching to see what was going on. The Big Ones were milling about on the canyon floor, and when they saw Victor approach, they ceased their muttered conversations and looked toward him. They were a motley bunch—from normal humanoid figures to huge, monstrous ones; from pale, fae-blooded beings like Arcus, to tall, looming avians like Lira Stormclaw. When his eyes fell on the avian woman, Victor smiled, and he drummed his fingers on Lifedrinker’s haft. She’d given the axe her most significant advancement—the lump of impossibly dense soul-ore.
“I recognize this bastard!” a giant growled. “Didn’t you fight him, Lira?”
She stepped forward, her wings ruffling as she held her massive, curved saber before the giant’s bulk. “Put some respect in your voice when you speak to this one, Ulgor. Can you not feel his aura? He bested me when he was an iron ranker, and here he stands—much greater.”
Victor opened his veil walker senses, weighing the Cores arrayed before him. Many were blazing like stars, close to breaking through, but all save one were still steel seekers. He nodded respectfully to Lira. “I see you broke through. Congratulations.”
“It took me long enough, but aye, the secrets of the hidden ores, the metals that bind worlds, are mine now.” Her eyes drifted to Lifedrinker, and though she grew quiet, he could see the spark of recognition in her eyes.
The other Big Ones barked, growled, and hissed questions his way, but Victor ignored them, instead focusing on his friend. Arcus looked different. His perfectly coiffed hair was unkempt—wild. His crimson robes had been replaced by mismatched bits of chain-mail and leather, worn under a fur-lined cloak that shifted with strange starlight glimmers. His staff was an enormous, gnarled thing that stood half again as tall as he. “Arcus, you’re a Big One now, eh?”
“It’s my most hard-won title, Victor. I’m quite fond of it.” His voice was rougher than Victor remembered, and when he strode forward, there was a confidence in his eyes that seemed far more natural than the brashness his insecurity used to force. When he stood before him, looking up into Victor’s eyes, Arcus reached up and thumped his fist against his chest—the typical greeting in Rumble Town among those whose hands weren’t appropriately matched in size for shaking.
Victor returned the gesture, gently nudging the smaller man with his massive knuckles. “I’ve got news, Arcus.” He raised his voice. “I have news for you all.”
The Big Ones came close, crowding, shoulder-to-shoulder around the mage. “What is it?” one of them asked—a lupine woman whose name Victor couldn’t recall.
“You’ve won. Without a single battle, you and Ronkerz have broken the Sojourn Council. They fear your might and the damage you could do.” Victor jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Even now, Consul Rexa is speaking with Ronkerz, arranging for you all to be released.”
Victor weathered the explosion of revelry with aplomb, only taking a step back to avoid being spat upon as Ulgor roared his excitement. While they absorbed the news, Victor reached into his spirit space and summoned one of his spatial containers—a leather bag filled with emergency supplies for his army. When Ulgor finished screaming, he handed him the container, clapping the giant on the back. “Enough to feed an army for a week. Celebrate.”
“You heard him, Big Ones! It’s time for a
party
!” He lifted the bag high, shouting for Rumble Town to come down, but some of the Big Ones weren’t so trusting or…
simple
.
Lira, chief among the doubters, and Ronkerz’s clear second-in-command pulled Victor to the side and hissed, “Is this some sort of scheme? A trap? It seems too easy, despite our master’s confidence over the years.”
Victor glanced toward the gates, where he could feel Ronkerz and Rexa. He shook his head. “It’s a scheme, but one that works in your favor. My allies and I wanted to change up the power structure in Sojourn. It works for us if Ronkerz is free, and he won’t come without you all.”
“So this is real?”
Victor smiled, looking from her to Arcus, whose eyes were still narrowed in suspicion. “It’s real. You’re coming home.”
Arcus shook his head. “I don’t have a home.”
Lira jostled his shoulder. “Yes, you do, little mage—with us.” As Arcus continued to scowl, she pointed to Lifedrinker. “Any chance I could hold her?”
Victor’s grip tightened on Lifedrinker’s haft. “I don’t know. She doesn’t generally like that, and she’s far heavier than—”
“Hush, Battle-heart! I’ll make myself lighter for her.”
Disappointment had begun to cloud Lira’s eyes, but they immediately brightened as Victor shrugged and held Lifedrinker out to her. “I guess she wants to talk to you.”
As Lira took Lifedrinker in her hands and began to speak in whispered excitement, Victor put a hand on Arcus’s shoulder and pulled him further to the side, away from the noise of the festivities. “I beat your father’s champion.”
“Did you? So… my sister?”
“She’s good. I got her out of the dungeon in time—along with my friends. She’s stepped away from your family. In fact, she’s grown very close to me and my friends. She’s even taken a role in the war I’ve got going on.”
“Truly? So my father is…”
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please the infringement.
As he trailed off, Victor shook his head. “He’s still alive—disgraced, but alive. I’m afraid much of your family fortune is gone.”
A small, almost cruel smile twisted Arcus’s lips. “I care not about that family’s wealth. Lira is correct; this is my family now. I’ll earn my own fortune.”
Victor nodded, gripping his shoulder. “You’re different—more…
sturdy
.”
That brought a genuine chuckle from the wizard. “Ronkerz is a harsh master, but he’s an excellent builder of character.” He gestured toward a stone bench. “Sit with me a while? I’d like to hear more about my sister. I’d also like you to describe my father’s face when Fak Loyle died.”
Victor snorted. “There’s the Arcus I remember! Okay, but first let me get my axe before Lira sweet-talks her away from me.”
###
Later, when Victor looked back at his second visit to the Iron Prison, he thought that he might have passed some kind of test with Lady Rexa. He wasn’t sure what had triggered his suspicion before stepping into that portal, but it felt like she regarded him with a new level of deference after that. Their departure from the prison dungeon went smoothly, and Victor wasn’t involved in the machinations that took place after that; it was all Dar, Rexa, and their allies.
In the end, Ronkerz was installed as the ninth consul of the Sojourn City Council, and with his influence, Roil lost supremacy. Votes began to go against Dar’s rivals, and many changes in Sojourn policy took hold. The most important of those changes was the entire reason Victor had gotten involved in Dar and Rexa’s schemes: the council’s tacit support of the Ridonne on Fanwath. When the political winds shifted, he wrote in his Farscribe books, asking Rellia, Morgan Hall, and his cousin of a sort, Olivia, to meet him at Iron Mountain.
On the day of their departure, some eleven days after Victor’s visit to the Iron Prison, he was having breakfast on the deck with Arona, Tes, and Cora, when his student asked, “So, what about my axe?”
“Your axe?” Tes asked.
“Victor promised—”
“I don’t remember using the word
promise
, and also, that was before you took that axe from the Warlord’s citadel.” He narrowed his eyes in a near-scowl and added, “Are you even wearing—”
Cora growled, lifting her arm to display the ebon-bladed hatchet with its ivory handle, still held snugly to her side by the baldric he’d given her. “Do you even
look
at me?”
Tes snorted, and Arona cleared her throat. Victor chuckled and put a sausage into his mouth, chewing noisily as he regarded the fiery-eyed girl. “You don’t like that one?”
“It’s too light! I showed you how I can use my Blood Magic to increase my strength—even my
size
!”
Tes took up Cora’s cause: “It
is
very small, Victor. Does it have the capacity to grow?”
He shook his head. “No. It has potential, though.”
“Why not get her another? Let her keep that one as a reserve weapon—something to train with and perhaps nurture.”
Victor pushed his plate away and turned to look at Arona. “You’ve been quiet. Care to weigh in?”
She shrugged, sipping her citrus juice. “If she’s going to be an axe fighter like you, I don’t understand why you’d expect her to learn with a hatchet. Your axe weighs more than a modestly sized castle.”
Victor stared at her for several seconds, his face betraying no emotion. “Fine,” he relented. “When we get to Ruhn, we’ll pay a visit to the palace weaponsmith.”
Cora’s smile threatened to do permanent damage to her cheeks as she returned to her breakfast, eating with gusto.
Arona set her glass down and announced, “I’ll return to Dark Ember straight away. No need for me to meet with your people from Fanwath.”
“No need,” Victor replied, “but you’re always welcome.”
“Thank you. I know that, but I’m eager to see how work progresses on the citadel. I’ve been keeping abreast via Farscribe, of course, but I’d like to put my eyes on the work. Also, they’ll need someone to set the anchor for the gateway, and I believe I’m one of perhaps three people in your army who can do that.”
Tes interjected, “Why is that? The miasma?”
Arona nodded. “I can burn it off for a time—long enough to place the anchor stone.”
Tes nodded, locking eyes with Arona. “Perhaps I should accompany you—”
Victor took her hand under the table. “I was hoping to spend a little time on Ruhn with you.”
“I’ll be fine, Lady Tes,” Arona said. “I’ve been to the shores of Xelhuan’s island many times.”
“No,” Victor said, and his voice was deeper than he’d intended—a note of finality reverberating through the air.
All three women looked at him sharply, and he shrugged. “Sorry, but I won’t risk you that way. We haven’t scouted that island since I killed Dragomir. If anything was going to get Xelhuan’s attention, I think killing one of the
Great Masters
would do it. I’ll be the one to set the anchor stone. Hopefully, the bastard will sense me and we can get the fight over with.”
Tes’s grip tightened, and he felt her nails pressing into the back of his hand, though he didn’t think she realized she was doing it; her eyes had gone distant. Arona, meanwhile, looked perhaps a little frustrated, but she nodded and sighed resignedly. “I can’t find fault with your reasoning. If he’s grown watchful, he’ll notice the incursion. It would be a good opportunity for him to attempt to gain intelligence.”
“So you won’t venture near his island, right?”
She inclined her head. “You have my word,
Lord
Victor.”
Victor pushed his chair back and stood. “Good. Let’s get moving.”
“I’m still eat—” Cora started to say, but when she looked up—bacon dangling from her lips—and saw Victor’s expression, she hastily wiped her hands on a napkin and stood. “Where shall I set up the array?”
Victor gestured to the deck, and while Cora got to it, he gripped the destination orb. He wasn’t in the mood for fanfare, so he pictured the little parlor in his suite at Iron Mountain, and when the portal sprang to life, he nodded for the others to precede him through it. Tes went first, then Arona, while Victor watched Cora collect the pieces of the portal array. Then, together, they stepped out of one world and into another.
No sooner had the portal snapped shut than Arona gestured to the balcony. “I’ll fly down to the World Hall. Any idea how long it will be before you come to Dark Ember, Victor?”
“Two days at the outside.”
“Until then.” A golden aura surrounded her, and she floated off the ground. A moment later, she was gone, flickering through the air in a series of tiny teleports.
Tes walked over to the balcony railing, peering after the glowing woman. “She was in a hurry.”
Victor sighed, nodding. “When she gets her mind set on something, she doesn’t like distractions.” He chuckled softly and added, “I pity the foreman she left in charge of construction. Well, and Lesh; he’s the highest-ranking officer.”
“Should I do anything, um, Your Grace?” Cora asked, and he turned to look at her with amused eyes.
“Why so formal?”
“Well, I don’t know. Your tone, I suppose, and—”
“And you were hoping to butter me up a little, so I’d hurry and speak with the weaponsmith?” She started to sputter an objection, but he laughed it off. He summoned a pair of Farscribe books and handed them to her. “Here. Finalize the arrangements for my meeting with the envoys from Fanwath, and then you can have the morning to yourself. At noon, we’ll meet for lunch, and then we’ll walk down to the armory together.”
She took the books, hugging them to her chest. “I’ll go to my rooms.”
“One more thing—have one of the staff alert Draj that I’m here.”
“I will!” She turned to Tes and added, “Until lunch, Lady Tes.”
Tes, engrossed in the view of the mountain, turned to wave, and then Cora was off, bouncing with the energy of youth and excitement. Tes watched her leave, then said, “She’s so excited for that axe. I hope you have something special planned. You
were
just teasing, right?”
Victor didn’t respond, but he held out his hand, upon which a lustrous red-gold lump of ore appeared. “A gift from one of Ronkerz’s Big Ones.”
“Oh!” Tes touched the ore, and little dimples formed on her cheeks as she smiled. “Cora’s a lucky young lady—this is dense with Energy.”
“Lira—the Big One—said it’s called Blood Gold and that if the smith folds it with heart silver, it will improve its chances of gaining consciousness.”
“That sounds right. I know I’ve heard of it, but it was in passing. I think it’s quite rare.” She leaned a little closer, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “This
Big One
must be fond of you. Tell me, do they intend to keep that silly title now that they’re out of that prison?”
“Is somebody jealous?”
Tes stretched one hand up to tickle the nape of his neck with her nails—they suddenly felt rather long and pointy. “Dragons are known to be greedy, covetous individuals…”
Grinning, Victor leaned forward to kiss her gently. “Good. Anyway, Lira likes Lifedrinker more than she likes me. I think she gave me the ore as a gesture of goodwill, hoping I’ll let her and Lifedrinker have another visit sometime down the road.”
“Lucky for her,” Tes replied, her voice a purr that verged on a growl. “Tell me, do you have the heart silver?”
“Oh yeah. I bought some at auction when we first got to Sojourn. Cora doesn’t have a clue, though.”
“You love to tease, don’t you?”
Victor shrugged, turning to brace his hands on the balcony railing as he took in the expansive view. “It’s how people in my family showed affection—my cousins and
tíos
, especially.”
“Can we be serious for a minute?”
Victor looked at her, his smile falling away. “Yeah, sure.”
“I know you intend to tell Rellia and the others from Fanwath that they’re free to fight the Ridonne now—that the new policy of Sojourn is not to allow intervention so long as the conflict is between natives—after that, you’re going to Dark Ember, where you plan to confront this Death Caster, Xelhuan—the child of your ancestor.”
Victor tilted his head. He hadn’t exactly tried to make any of that a secret. “Yeah…”
Tes took hold of his arms, just above the elbows, gently squeezing as she looked up into his eyes. “Why does it feel like you’ve spent the last month or two ensuring that your loved ones would be able to carry on without you—like you’ve been setting all your affairs in order? Tell me truthfully, Victor: do you believe you will win this fight?”

.
!
12.31 All in Order