Mark of the Fool

“Nice job, Ripp!” Alex shouted. “Now, let’s get the hells away from here!”

“Way ahead of you, bosses!” The swiftling cried, racing from the hill and leaping into the air then soaring well above the treetops.

‘Claygon!’ Alex thought. ‘We’re finished, get out of there!”

‘Coming…father…’ came the reply, followed by a boom and a flash of light from the cave mouth.

Heartbeats later, Theresa and Claygon emerged into the daylight, climbing into the sky. Brutus barked twice, soaring after them.

“Everyone’s clear!” Alex turned back to Khalik.

And what he saw…

…comforted him; the prince was leaving the hill with Najyah as Ravener-spawn came boiling from half a dozen tunnels.

“One more thing to do!” Khalik shouted. “Alex, get the bag ready!”

“On it!” The Thameish wizard pulled a small sack from his belt as the party came together in the air, still climbing away from the forest. “Ripp, hold that dungeon core steady!”

“Whatever you’re doing, do it fast, bosses!” The swiftling cried.

“Khalik, hurry!” Alex pressed, holding the bag beneath the core.

Shouting an incantation, the prince called on a shatter spell.

Mana shifted.

A noise like glass screeching across metal erupted as potent sound waves concentrated on the dungeon core, leaving the black orb shuddering in Ripp’s grip; a jagged crack ran along its side.

“My turn,” Theresa floated up beside Ripp.

She raised the Twinblade.

And her swords crashed down.

Another harsh sound—this one like shearing stone—magical metal carved through the cracked dungeon core like water, leaving cuts that split the orb into three. It screamed in Alex’s senses, tearing asunder, filtering into the sack, becoming fine dust as black as pitch.

Alex quickly sealed the bag, binding its mouth with a strong length of cord and sighing with relief. “We did it! He grinned at Khalik. “It worked! We actually pulled it off!”

“Of course we did, we are powerful and my plan was sound.” The prince laughed in triumph, looking down at the hapless chitterers boiling from the coreless dungeon. “Now, what do you say we clean our plates? It would be rude to leave the Thameish army to deal with our leftovers.”

‘Agreed…’ Claygon said, though only Alex heard. His fire-gems flared with power. ‘Time…to end the rest.’

With those words, the golem unleashed full fury on the confused Ravener-spawn below.

It wasn’t long until all that remained on the hillside was a barren hill, dead monsters, and scorched earth.

“Two hundred and ninety-eight, two hundred and ninety-nine,” Khalik counted. “And there we are, three hundred altogether. Would you like to count them yourself?”

“No, no, I’ve got eyes,” Ripp said, gazing at a small chest before him filled with shining coins. “I watched you count ‘em myself, right here in front of me, and the sum’s right.”

“Are you sure?” The prince started to close the chest. “By all means, I want you to be comfortable. I could have used sleight of hand to fool your eyes, and Iwould take no offence ifyou wished to be sure of our honour.”

“Yeah, man, I know how it is, we might’ve used magic to cheat you or something,” Alex agreed, leaning over the table and tapping the side of the chest. “Don’t think we’re going to get insulted or anything like that.”

“Listen, boys, I know you mean well.” The swiftling looked at both of them evenly, standing up in his chair and taking hold of the chest. “But—and I mean this as no offence to you—but neither of you are near fast enough to fool a swiftling’s eyes. So, there’s no sleight of hand. And as for magic? We swiftling’s are closer to fae than not: I’d bet the tips of my ears that my mana senses are sharper than yours by a big margin. Trust me, me counting coins now would just be wasting your time and mine.”

He slammed the lid shut and dragged the chest to his side of the table, the annoying sound drew the gaze of other patrons in the Brass Grapes. “Alright, then. Three hundred for the job. A good payday, I’d say.” The mercenary grinned. “Listen, if you’re ever in need of a small and quick blade, don’t hesitate to call on ol’ Ripp, now.”

With that, the swiftling jumped from his chair, bowed to the two wizards and shot from the bar in a blinding flash of speed. Before Alex’s eyes could even begin to track him, he was gone, leaving the Thameish wizard shaking his head.

“Should’ve hired him ages ago,” he said. “Let me tell you, some of those fights we’ve been in wouldn’t have been half the trouble they were with Ripp by our sides.”

Khalik shrugged, then raised his hand, catching the attention of a server. “And we would be all the weaker for it: better to hire more experienced fighters now that we know how to handle ourselves rather than before we did. I have no plans to be a useless child in battle, waiting for guards and servants to save me.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that.” Alex smiled as the server approached. “Hold on—Let’s make our order.”

The young men ordered two cups of fortified wine with shots of rum on the side to celebrate their victory. Alex might have ordered more than one if there wasn’t a great pile of work waiting for him.

It was going to be a long evening.

He looked back at his friend. “Right, about the mercenary thing: now that I think about it, we would have only needed to hire mercenaries recently. Until we came to Greymoor, we were fighting most of our battles in Baelin’s class.”

“It is true,” Khalik agreed, his smile nostalgic behind his beard. “And the only true battles we fought were against foes who sought our lives when our guards were down: like the mana vampire’s attack on Najyah—”

His familiar gave a loud screech of offence, ruffling her feathers and digging her talons into the perch positioned at the side of their table.

“—it is alright, it is alright.” The prince stroked her feathers, his voice soothing. “The monster is long dead. We have already avenged your honour, Najyah.”

She gave another offended squawk, but seemed to settle down, her feathers growing decidedly less puffy.

Alex fought the urge to laugh. “Yeah, there was also the attack at Isolde’s cousin’s villa. Then those bloody demons. Ugh, let me tell you, I can’t wait to get down there and show them some surprise carnage for once.”

“Mhmmmm.” Khalik nodded, still gently stroking Najyah. “Of that, we are in full agreement. And speaking of that…” His eyes fell on two small sacks by Alex’s side, each containing a share of dungeon core essence. “What will you do now? Will you begin crafting your staff immediately? Start on my armour? Research spells?”

“Well, I’d love to do any one of those things, to be honest,” Alex said. “But what I’ve got to do first is a bit less glamorous.”

“Oho?” Khalik raised an eyebrow. “What comes next?”

“A business proposal.” Alex reached into the satchel beside his chair, pulling out a notebook and setting it on the table. He quickly flipped pages until he reached a long, formal document that seemed to go on forever.

The prince whistled, eyeing the pages dubiously. “Interesting. Vastly interesting. What is it for?”

“My boss,” Alex glanced around the Brass Grapes and leaned across the table, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m going to try and set up a business partnership with Toraka Shale.”

Khalik’s eyebrows shot so high, they threatened to melt into his plaits. “That is…very interesting indeed. But why are you doing it first?”

“Well, the staff’s going to take a bit of coin to make. Well, a bit’s putting it mildly, it’s going to take a good chunk of coin: more than I’ve got currently.” He flipped through the notebook again, stopping when he reached the set of schematics for his staff. They’d increased from when he’d shown Khalik them a couple of days earlier. “I have ways to design it so that it’s cheaper, but I’ll be bloody damned if I’m going to waste aeld tree wood and dungeon core essence on a crappy staff.”

He scoffed. “It’ll be a masterpiece, or I’ll throw myself in the Prinean.”

“I understand, you have a good quality canvas so you do not wish to spoil it with fingerpaint,” Khalik agreed. “And this…business plan will provide you with the war-chest needed for your staff?”

Alex chuckled evilly. “Oh it’ll get me more than that, Khalik, a hell of a lot more than that. But, yes. I’ll need the coin from this if I’m going to build a proper staff.”

“Hence the business proposal, then…” The prince ran a hand through his beard, eyeing Alex’s notebook. “...do you feel comfortable with it?”

Alex gave him a look. “Do you want the truth or a lie?”

“Hmmmm…let us have the lie first.”

“Well, I think it’s brilliant and no one could resist it,” he nodded with a confident smile.

“And the truth?”

“Oh by the Traveller, I’m so bloody nervous about it I feel like my skin’s going to rip itself off and go running to the Rhinean Empire,” he said mournfully, his head dropping to the table and his fingers raking through his unkempt beard. “I’ve never done anything like this before, man, and the you-know-what's been helping, too. But…well, a lot of my family’s future is riding on this.”

He tapped the business plan with a finger. “If this goes wrong, it’s bye-bye staff until I can come up with something else, and bye-bye financial freedom for the foreseeable future.”

“That is not so bad.” Khalik shrugged. “You are clever, and even if this fails, you will create another plan. I know you will. Besides, you now have a well-paying job that will give you its own opportunities.”

Alex gave the prince a withering look. “That’s easy for you to say, you’re loaded. You’re swimming in coin. For me, this is different, man. And…look, for reasons that would be abundantly clear if you read the proposal, there’s a bit of a time limit on this sort of plan…and I’m not sure what I’d try next if time runs out.”

“Then show it to me,” Khalik said.

“Hm? The proposal?”

“Yes.”

“Ooooh, bah!” Alex scoffed, waving him off. “Trust me, you don’t want to read it, it’s dry as a bone, and it’s like ten pages long so far.”

“I am curious, all the same, bone-dry or sea-wet.” He waved the book toward him. “Come, hand it here.”

Alex sighed, sliding the book across the table. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you—And ah! I see the server is on the way with our drinks. Good thing too, you’ll need at least one just to get through that.”

“Let me be the judge of that, Alex.” Khalik frowned, flipping to the first page of the proposal. “Now be quiet for a moment, I need to concentrate.”

“Yeah, well, shutting up then, if that’s what you want, but I’m telling you—”

“Alex.”

“Right, right, shutting up for real.”

The young Thameish wizard went quiet, watching the prince read through his proposal with a deep frown lining his forehead as drinks were placed on the table. Khalik’s eyes travelled across the pages line by line, lips muttering in Tekish under his breath.

Anxiety-filled, Alex picked up his wine cup, giving it a swirl and taking a larger sip than he’d intended. He sipped nervously as Khalik read, and—by the time the prince had finished—he’d drained one cup and had ordered another.

“Well?” He asked as Khalik put down the notebook. “Thoughts? Is it great? Terrible?”

“Oh, most terrible!” The prince offered, his face a mask of disgust. “The worst writing I have ever seen: you must have been taught the common tongue by a wine-addled frog.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Oh, haha! I just told you that I’m so nervous I’m about ready to skin myself, and you go making fun of me. Some friend you are!”

“Apologies, apologies!” Khalik held up his hands in surrender before noticing his wine glass and taking it up eagerly. “In more serious words, though…it is good…but it could be better.”

Alex’s heart dropped slightly. “Really? Have you written business proposals before?”

“I have not,” Khalik admitted. “But I have read many proposals for matters of state, all written to convince a king that they would be beneficial to him, his queen, his house and his kingdom. I have seen proposals that have succeeded. And those that have failed. I can teach you some tricks from the ones that found success.”

Alex’s green eyes grew wide. “Khalik…I could kiss you right now.”

“Even if you could, I would never allow it with that foul, neglected thing on your face.” The prince waved his hand in mock disgust. “Now come, bring me a pen. I will show you tricks on how to get those with power to part with some of it.”