Of Gods and Warriors ✓

Chapter 68

The distant murmur of voices, buzzing of crickets in the garden, even the faint susurration of the late afternoon breeze drowned out in the virulent darkness that spread through the air, engulfing the three as though in a depthless void.

They'd been shut in.

There sounded the click of a crate being opened. In a flash, Xenro had his sword at the ready.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"A mere precaution, nothing more." Atruer's eyes spun grotesquely in their sockets a few times. Despite entire eras spent among mortals, he had not a clear grasp of how to roll his eyes. "Place's swarming with wizardfolk. Don't want them to sniff me out, do we? Thanks to a certain little devil--" He glared at Farren, "--I've had enough experience with those blasted Council Mages. Heaven knows I do not need more."

Xenro could not bring himself to believe that excuse. Yet he held on, for Farren.

There was a tug on his sleeves as she tried to steady herself, still swaying on her feet. Sweatbeads dotted her forehead, teeth clenched. The small cut had jarred her whole being, if her heavy breaths were any indication.

"I want--" she began.

Atruer dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Heard you the first time. And the second."

She glared at him, hands on hips. "Well? Do something about it."

"Certainly, dear," said Atruer and downed his goblet. With a snap of his fingers, the empty goblet hovered up in thin air, followed by a flash of a light and a crack. It changed shape at his will, and something roundish and small dropped back into his hands with a jingle.

Atruer tossed it right at the two of them without warning.

"Watch out!" yelled Xenro, and threw himself in its path. The object hit the ground at his feet. Gold coins rolled out of it and scattered, glittering bright even in the stifling gloom. The thing was merely a harmless bag of money. Farren popped her head out, looking over his shoulder. "Eh?"

"Well, there's your solution. Surely you must be out of your mind to even think of walking out of such a profitable contract. I don't blame you, however," said Atruer sensibly, "a soldier's life ain't no joke--lotsa stress. Your mind's addled, lass. You can afford a good healer with this. Take the lad with you, too. Serious issues, didn't I tell you?"

"We don't need your filthy coin!" snarled Xenro and was about to unsheathe his sword when Farren stopped him. She shook her head, her usual sly grin beginning to creep back into her face.

With the toe of her boot, she pitched the bag of coins into the air, caught it, and stowed it in her belt pouch. "Since you have so generously offered it, I shall keep it. You are insufferable, Lord. But gold sure isn't. Now, back to why I'm here for--"

Interrupting her, Atruer clapped, rocking back and forth where he sat, his cheery smile almost adorable--had it not been for those rows of pointed teeth, far too many in numbers to suit a humanoid face. "See, lad, this is why I like her so much. Morals corrupt with greed, soul twisted, heart ridden with hatred for her own self. Ideal."

Farren's smile vanished, the grip on her dagger tightening momentarily. Xenro placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Leave it be," he told her. "Knowing him, the money will likely revert back to that blasted goblet of poison."

"Correct!" shrieked Atruer with glee as he peered at Xenro. "See, this is why I like you so much. Cursed to see the harsh truth, always knowing the inevitable end-- and thus you never truly enjoy peace." He let out a mad, cackling laugh.