Grak: Private Instigator (Orc PI Book 1) Page 10

  The image of a blocky, granitic face hovered above the card. Small packages of various shapes and sizes, ranging from envelopes to assorted boxes, circled around his stony visage.

  Delphinious was a logistical anchor in the midst of a swirling storm of parcels.

  If one looked closely, Delphinious looked like an earth elemental, but one can never be entirely sure in Alyon. Several kinds of animated rocks live here, along with a variety of elementals and other alien species that defy simple—and complex—classification.

  After we spoke with Arcwhistle, Delphinious was next on the list.

  The back of the card listed his address in the Warrens.

  I knew the place generally but did not spend much time there. Everyone tends to move far too quickly for my tastes in the Warrens, even the rocks. The Warrens are where most of the self-storage and low-end retail and distribution are in the Undercity. About the only thing desirable in the Warrens are the occasional treasures that pass through.

  “Handsome devil, ain’t he?” Kordeun raised an eyebrow as he examined the proud visage of Delphinious floating above his business card.

  “A rough sea of unruly packages won’t stop Delphinious from delivering,” I said.

  “He looks as indomitable as tha hills.” Kordeun’s eyes lit with mirth.

  “Depends on the hills,” I amended.

  “Aye.”

  “Sand dunes?” I offered by way of clarification.

  Kordeun laughed. “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor vortexes o’ random boxes will stay Delphinious from his appointed rounds.”

  I decided I liked Kordeun.

  He might be a bit nasty.

  He might be a bit snarky.

  He might be a bit rough around the edges.

  But we got along just fine.

  20

  Kordeun and I were shoulder-to-shoulder in my apartment.

  There was little room to do much other than stand and try not to get in each other’s way.

  We were so amusing to watch that Draypheus actually opened an eye where he lay perched on the countertop to catch some of the cumbersome orc-dwarf ballet.

  “Aspect, please connect me with Arcwhistle Tangleknot.”

  My voice echoed lamely off the walls of my cave.

  I hoped the Aspect listened to my request.

  Many people have dedicated Aspects that they call their own.

  My brother, for instance, has one all to himself inside the extradimensional space in his pouch.

  Since I pay for his, I cannot afford my own.

  Alyon furnishes a basic level Aspect that is available to all, but it’s far less reliable and personal than the full, independent versions.

  I think it’s mostly because the public Aspect is overworked.

  Or bored by the common man.

  Whatever the reason, Kordeun and I had a bit of time to kill before it finally deigned to answer my call.

  So, as delicately as I could without crushing my guest, I summoned the projection to get caught up on the latest city news. “Projection, news, please.”

  I don’t know why I generally use nicer manners for my appliances than I do people, but there it was: Grak at his finest.

  “Good idea, Grak! I wanna hear how tha Alyon Archmages did against tha Gnusian Noetics.”

  The Archmages are Alyon’s Wizarding team.

  “Last night’s game’ll have serious playoff ramifications.”

  Kordeun was a dwarf after my own heart.

  There’s nothing like coming home after a rough day of hanging out at the bar to watch a Wizarding match.

  Wizarding pits teams of mages against one another in games of skill, strategy, and head-to-head magical pandemonium.

  Depending on the game—goal, challenge, or battle—each team tries be the first to reach a common goal, overcome a specific trial or succeed at a given challenge, or defeat each other on the battlefield.

  Events are nonlethal, but spectators have been known to die of laughter watching wizards careen and caterwaul across the field of competition under the influence of hostile magics.

  The games not only test competitors’ skills but hone their abilities to keep the macroverse and its Citizens safe.

  As enjoyable as Wizarding is to watch, everyone benefits from its play.

  Especially the audience.

  “You got it!

  “Wizarding highlights, please.”

  There I was, being nice again.

  We’re no Tellanon, but Alyon has a long history of successful participation in the games at even the highest levels.

  The previous night’s match had been my favorite, a battle royale. There was no intermediate goal or challenge between the wizards. They just faced off, team against team, mage against mage.

  And then absolute bedlam ensued.

  Alyon were dressed in their traditional red robes, while the Gnusians were dressed in their matte metallic gray.

  In Wizarding, no magical items or preparations are allowed. The robes worn by the participants are just basic cloth. The mages do not arrive at the match ensorcelled with protective magics or contingencies in place. All their preparations and strategy are done on the field. In fact, each team is thoroughly searched and dispelled prior to entering the field of play.

  These precautions help even the level of competition in a given match. Competitive ranks from Archmage down to Novice further balance out matches based on arcane skill level, innate magical talents, and natural abilities enjoyed by some races.

  The previous night’s battlefield had been a sere rocky expanse unadorned by geographic relief. Barren rocks and dirt stretched as far as the eye could see. Nine wizards per team stood across from each other at the limits of most races’ line of sight. Theoretically, this gave the teams a little time to prepare, since the effective range of many spells is restricted to what the wizard can clearly see.

  The audience was arrayed in special floating stands behind vision-enhancing shields to help them keep abreast of the action.

  And safe.

  Audience capacity was limited to a few thousand to minimize risk and the potential for interference.

  The shields protecting the audience also served to isolate viewers from players.

  In a battle, the match is over when all the members of one team are incapacitated or otherwise unable to continue. In goal or challenge matches, the game ends when the object of the match is achieved by one of the teams.

  “Who’d ya pick?” Kordeun asked, his voice full of animated enthusiasm.

  I really had no clue.

  And, truth be told, this was not limited to Wizarding.

  There are so many worlds, so many teams, that keeping track of opposing squads is about as easy as tracking down the terrorists causing all the monstrous mayhem in Alyon. Throw in the randomness of magical effects, and any match could be a toss-up.

  “They may not win, but I always pick Alyon.”

  “Ya’re an honorable man, then, true ta his team and their cause!”

  Mostly, I am just ignorant of other teams and their causes.

  And I am generally too lazy to rectify the situation.

  Kordeun pointed to a small metal emblem knotted prominently in his beard, one of his many kazzak. The item displayed was a small charm shaped like a fist holding a lightning bolt. “This here symbol o’ tha Archmages was given ta me by tha team fer helpin’ save ’em after a match with an opposin’ team got outta hand.”

  My eyes got as wide as a child’s in a candy shop.

  Awed, I managed, “Really?”

  “Aye! ’Twas one o’ my first real accomplishments after arrivin’ in Alyon. Helped get me started on tha right foot in tha community.”

  Having no awards or honors to speak of, or at least any that were worth speaking of, I was suitably impressed.

  “I get free tickets ta home games now.”

  I did my best not to beg for an invite.

  Alyon’s games are usually held in a po
cket dimension accessible from the floating city of Alyon proper, the space and its environs specifically tailored for the match.

  “If ya’d like, maybe we could go one day.”

  Keeping my cool, doing my best not to let my excitement show, I gushed nonchalantly, “I’d love to! Any time!”

  I hoped the clever note of understated desperation in my voice did not hurt my chances to go.

  “Here we go!” I shouted as the match began.

  I did my best to contain myself, not because I wanted to but mainly because I did not want to smash Kordeun as I flayed around my tiny apartment in spasmodic elation.

  Kordeun had similar ideas.

  Games can be exceedingly complex or straightforward and simple. It all depends on how the teams’ initial strategies play out, flux, and morph in response to the other team.

  I had high hopes for this match.

  Not because I expected great things from either squad, but because I had not had someone, anyone, over to my home to watch a match in far too long. I was excited for the opportunity to share camaraderie around a common cause and the joy that came with it.

  Put simply, despite spending far too much time at a bar, I was socially deprived.

  That I was willing to project this need onto a dwarf I had known about a day spoke volumes.

  Thankfully, the projection’s sound was far too loud for Kordeun to hear my pitiful cry.

  “Let the game begin!” The commentator’s voice was a rich baritone. He sounded like a singer tuning his voice, waiting for his turn to belt out an audience-smashing refrain.

  I ignored him.

  I didn’t need to hear what he said. I just wanted to watch the match.

  I focused my attention on the Archmages. As soon as the contest started, Alyon’s wizards began casting their spells.

  One of the challenges of watching wizards work is interpreting what their intent is when casting spells. Trying to figure this out in a competitive arena is particularly daunting.

  This is also part of the fun of watching.

  While the mages are trying to figure out what their opponents are doing and how to counter these actions, the audience is trying to puzzle out what everyone is doing…all at once.

  It’s a mad scramble for understanding, strategy, and success for everyone involved.

  Since their focus was not on the Noetics and I saw no flashy effects, either around themselves or directed toward the Noetics, I assumed the Archmages were buffing themselves with some kind of protective or augmenting abilities.

  The Noetics’ strategy was entirely different.

  Before the Archmages’ spells were complete, the entire team of Noetics teleported in with a flash of light, forming a perimeter around the Archmages, hemming them in without room to maneuver effectively.

  My heart sank.

  This was a classic constriction maneuver employed by superior teams, used to overwhelm overmatched opponents.

  Obviously, the Noetics thought they easily outclassed the Archmages to act so boldly.

  “No!” I yelled, fearing the worst.

  “Fight back, ya simpletons! They’re right on ya!” roared Kordeun, echoing my sentiments.

  The Archmages, however, had their own ideas.

  Completing their casting just after the Noetics’ sudden arrival, the Archmages blurred into motion. The Archmages’ movements were so fast that the eye could barely register them.

  The Archmages had cast a spell to accelerate their spellcasting abilities.

  The Noetics’ stomach-churning initiative quickly turned from a fearful match-ender to a disadvantage.

  Neither Kordeun nor I had time to shout our triumph before the match was over.

  Moving easily twice the speed of the Noetics, the Archmages unleashed a barrage of spells that the Noetics could not counter.

  Flashing lights, arcing tendrils of force, and a stunned audience were all that there was to see in the match’s brief final moments.

  The Noetics’ gamble, their aggressive failed strategy, had paid off handsomely for the Archmages. Alyon’s initial ploy had been the perfect counter to the Gnusians’.

  Even if it was entirely accidental.

  Kordeun looked at me with his mouth agape. “Gotta be one o’ tha shortest matches in history.”

  I could not argue.

  Some of the spectators had not finished settling into their seats before the match was over.

  The contest left me entirely unsatisfied.

  “Want a drink?”

  “Thought ya’d never ask,” Kordeun replied.

  Kordeun shared my sentiments exactly.

  21

  “Grak, you have an incoming call from Arcwhistle Tangleknot. Will you accept it?”

  The voice of the Construct filled the air, muting the replaying highlights Kordeun and I were dissecting in slow motion.

  “Sure. Patch him through.”

  Arcwhistle’s face appeared in the air before us in all its multidimensional glory. His bulbous nose was so massive, it almost swept us from the room. I worried that his tremendous unibrow might get caught on something and he would never be able to leave the cramped space.

  “Thank you for returning my call, Arcwhistle.”

  “I’m glad to help, Grak. 17639XKN.2738 further elucidated the true import of your mission. I feel duty and honor-bound to assist your cause.”

  “That warms my heart.” I hoped the sarcasm wasn’t too thick. Between my sarcasm and Arcwhistle’s eyebrow hairs, we might suffocate.

  “How may I be of service?” Despite my past experience, Arcwhistle really did appear accommodating.

  “We need help on our case.” Why I included Kordeun without pause, I could not say. “Help that you are uniquely suited to provide.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “We need the assistance of a chemical expert. Perhaps you know of one from within the ranks of Paratechnologists?”

  “One?” Arcwhistle laughed. “More like everyone! What exactly do you need this Paratechnologist to do?”

  “I need him to analyze the scene of a crime and determine if compounds present on the premises could be combined to create the transformative compound causing the monstrous outbreaks. This determination would be based on both residual chemicals found onsite and an inventory of the building.”

  I took a breath.

  That was more than a mouthful.

  And I had used my best forensic language.

  Arcwhistle paused dramatically, as if in deep consideration. In reality, he was watching the projection of last night’s match.

  I could tell by the replay reflected in his giant eyes.

  “Arcwhistle?”

  “Yes?” he mumbled distractedly.

  “You can catch up on the game later, Arcwhistle. This is important. Lives hang in the balance.”

  I did not mention that we had been watching the match while waiting for his call.

  “Give me a moment,” he said.

  It was obvious to me that this moment meant letting him watch another snippet of the match.

  I glanced at Kordeun, who smirked in response.

  He seemed to be enjoying this exchange almost as much as watching the match.

  After another few moments, I cleared my throat.

  As enjoyable as watching someone else watch a match was, I would rather get his help than his reaction.

  Unless, of course, I wanted to record his reaction for fun and enjoyment.

  Which I did.

  “So, who would you recommend?” I asked as Arcwhistle’s focus shifted back to us from the replay.

  His gigantic pupils focusing on us gave his attention away.

  “Yoctoerg Surgewave is the gnome for you!” His enthusiasm for the match had been transferred to us.

  I wasn’t sure Yoctoerg Surgewave was the gnome for anyone. But, in fairness, gnomes probably thought orcish names were as strange as theirs were to us.

  “But you can call him Yocto
. Or Erg. Or Surge.”

  “Noted,” I said drolly.

  “This is the kind of work he lives for. Not the solving of murders, mind you, but the resolution of chemical puzzles as well as inventing solutions for them.”

  “So, you think Yocto may be able to develop a counter to the toxin causing the outbreak?”

  “If anyone short of the Construct can do it, I would wager on Yocto.”

  “Great!” I said, and meant it.

  “Would you ask him to meet us at the King’s Crown?”

  “He may beat you there.” Arcwhistle’s attention returned to his projection as he signed off.

  “Thanks!” I called as we hustled toward the door, gathering our things, including a few choice preparatory items, glad to escape the dragon-sized snout terrorizing my room.

  Worst case, we would get to the bar early and have to drink a celebratory victory spirit or three prior to Yocto’s arrival.

  22

  The King’s Crown was exactly as I had expected.

  Empty.

  Orthanq was hovering behind the bar, diligently working on whatever it was that had kept him busy in all the long hours since he had had a customer other than myself.

  Kordeun—who I was beginning to realize must be even more bored than I was if he was willing to not only hang with me but come to such enticingly lively places as my home and the King’s Crown—was still by my side.

  If patience is a virtue, what is boredom?

  Virtue’s seat?

  If so, some chairs are truly not worth sitting on.

  As we made our way across the burnished wooden floor through the empty room, I hollered, “Orthanq! We’re meeting a gnomish Paratechnologist here shortly.

  “He comes highly recommended.

  “He may be able to sort out the cause of the transformations.”

  “If we’re lucky, he may be able ta come up with an antidote,” Kordeun added more hopefully than I felt.

  By the time we were done, we had navigated through the room to Orthanq’s well-tended bar.

  Even though I was growing more used to the feeling, it was still odd sitting down with almost no one else around.

  Until recently, the King’s Crown had been the very definition of lively.