Burning Today Options

[Olen]

Some of you probably remember my last piece, Yesterday's Shadow and that it had a rather unsatisfying ending. I spent the summer rectifying this and now have a sizeable sequel/ completion to it which is itself now finished. It would probably be better to read Yesterday's Shadow before this as it would make more sense, however you should get by without it. If anyone wants I'll put a synopsis here, though Yesterday's Shadow isn't very long so you could just read it here (enough plugs yet?)

Anyway without further ado:

Burning Today

Prologue

Dervas wore boots while he worked. Shoes didn't last long in the decaying mixture of blood, vomit, drink and drugs which floored The Black Guar. The dark man had finally passed out and for the first time Dervas dared look at him. A worn man with a broken soul. Who are you? The Black Guar didn't get passing trade – the mixture of pushers, heavies and racketeers who made up most of his patronage didn't appreciate strangers. In the first hour the man, who now lay face down on the table, had knocked two out cold and broken another's arm. They left him alone after that and he them. Dervas wiped the remains of a line of sugar off the bar and nodded to the bouncer who went to move the man to his room.

Someone knocked at the door. Dervas ignored it. They knocked again, for longer this time. He cursed and went to tell whoever it was where to go. It was late an he didn't need any more trade. He pushed open the door, a curse dancing on his tongue. A sack crashed to the ground, gold clinked within. A Breton in black clothes stood in the doorway.

“What's his tab?” There was no need to ask whose.

“Sixty.”

The Breton showed no surprise, and counted out the gold. “Listen,” his tone offered pain if Dervas didn't, “You keep giving that guy drinks, drugs, whores, whatever he asks for okay? For him happy hour doesn't end, tabs never have to be paid. Push as much as you can into him. Don't worry - I'll be round a couple of nights a week to pay you. That sack,” he kicked disdainfully at the one he'd just dropped, “Contains a thousand drakes, payment enough I'd say. If he asks don't tell him, just give him more drink. Understand?”

Dervas nodded, his mouth was dry.

The man disappeared into the night.

Dervas walked back into the bar. He looked towards the dark man's room. Who are you? he thought again, And what have I gotten into?

[Olen]

This was meant to be part of the previous part so just a short one today. I blame the cold affecting my ability to think.


14. Hiding

The sun, already in the west when I hid, crawled down towards the horizon. The mages patrols were less frequent and their shouts less wild. It took an effort to stay hidden knowing fine well that with every minute Renera drew further away, I would be hard pushed to catch her before Alt Bosara now. If the mages hadn't stopped me I'd have already caught up with her, for better or worse. My thoughts turned down the same rutted track of hatred offering another permutation of bitterness. I'm not stupid though, I knew that they hated me just as much and that trying to run would only end one way. I would wait until dark to make my move. The sun continued its slow cycle while my mind rushed though its, faster, yet just as futile, circle.

Night fell, and in the dark before the moon rose I made my move. I loosened muscles which had gone to sleep and vaulted out over the rocks of my hideaway. I crouched and stared into the darkness. The weak light of a campfire flickered a way to the north, some would be there but not all. I looked a moment longer then moved west darting from rock to shadow and keeping low. In the black shadow of an overhanging boulder I paused, I heard something. Footsteps. A voice too, though I couldn't make out words. They were coming towards me, and their camp, from the south. I shrunk further into the gloom and froze, one hand on my sword. The measured steps continued to approach. Had I been seen?

I forced myself to relax, tension would just tire me. If they knew where I was they still had to get close enough, and there was little enough I could do anyway. I would assume they didn't. The footsteps grew nearer. The urge to run, or fight, rose. Anything but waiting like a rat in barely concealed hole. I crushed it but I was a tense as a lute string, my nerves hummed and my fingers quivered. I took a breath, but quietly. It didn't help. The footsteps were near now. I hardly breathed. Then I saw a booted foot and a leg only a couple of dozen yards from my rock. They hadn't seen me. Unless it was all a trap. I brushed away that thought. The walking man continued on towards the fire and I let out a shudder. I had to move, another encounter like that and there would be nothing left of my nerves. And no wander. Suddenly I wanted a dose of skooma very much, but my pack was gone. I crawled from under the boulder and out in front of another mage.

For a horrific moment we regarded each other in utter surprise. Then her face twisted in hatred, a mirror to my own. I leapt forwards and ran away into the scrubland at full tilt. I heard her scream in rage behind me, a fireball flew away to my right. A wild shot. I ran and cursed myself as seven kinds of fool, the skooma withdrawal was worse than I'd thought. Why hadn't I considered who the first mage had been talking to? Still if I held my pace for another hour and didn't take the most obvious route... I cursed again, I didn't want to run for an hour, and I'd loose all trace of Renera's trail. A few more fireballs flew but all in the wrong places and directions.