home

search

Book 1, Chapter 15 - The Client

  “Looks like you two are living large,” said Arc, walking into Tina’s Diner. “This is one of the pricier places in town to grab something to eat.”

  “But they have bigger portions,” said Jack, shoving an entire pancake into his mouth.

  “They do,” admitted Arc.

  Julie swallowed what she had been chewing and then leapt to her feet. “You’re back!” she squealed, drawing attention from everyone in the diner. “Sorry, Tina.”

  Tina rolled her eyes and got back to work.

  “Back indeed and not much worse for the wear,” said Arc, sitting himself down.

  Jack started sniffing. “Is that…soap?”

  Arc looked at his clean scarf and smelled it. “Yes, cactus blossom,” he said. “I didn’t pick the scent but I can’t deny the allure.”

  “Why did you wash your scarf?”

  “Because it was dirty.”

  “I know that, but…why?”

  “I had a small run-in with a few of Colt’s boys. I was taken prisoner for five days and then escaped.”

  “Prisoner?” asked Julie, dropping her fork and putting her hand over her mouth. “Are you alright? You must tell us everything!”

  “Later,” said Arc, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s nice to see the pair of you haven’t skipped town already. How have you been?”

  “Fine,” shrugged Jack. “Jamison paid us a couple of silvers yesterday for delivering some equipment to buyers around town. We thought we’d celebrate with a hearty breakfast.”

  Julie beamed. “And he said to stop by again tomorrow because he may need a few more things delivered.”

  “That’s good,” said Arc with a smile. “That’s very good. I’m glad you two seem to be settling in so well. Like I said, Pembroke is one of the better places to nest in Nuvaria.”

  Jack finished his last piece of bacon. “Alright, I’m done. Now, you can tell us everything. We thought you’d be back in a couple of days, but you’ve been gone for over a week.”

  “I’m going to pay a visit to Rodney Millar, the man who’s paying me to take out Colt. There are a few updates I think he should hear about and I don’t much fancy repeating myself too many times. If you’ve got nothing better to do, why don’t you come along?”

  “Yes,” said Julie enthusiastically.

  “I was hoping to let my breakfast settle,” grumbled Jack.

  “Nothing settles a stomach like a post-meal walk,” said Arc, leaning over and ruffling Jack’s hair. The young man was not amused. “Come on.”

  “Fine,” Jack said, standing up and fixing his hair.

  “You’re not waiting for me to eat?”

  “But you just said…”

  Jack sat down and muttered under his breath as Julie giggled and Arc flashed him a sneaky grin.

  The trio walked up to Rodney Millar’s house. It was one of the nicer abodes in Pembroke, standing at three storeys tall and with some semblance of a garden outside, but there was an unsettling air about the place that wasn’t eased by the two guards keeping watch by the front gate.

  “Here to see Mr Millar,” said Arc. “About—”

  “About Colt,” nodded one of the guards. “Yeah, I know who you are, Arc the Hawk. Go on in. The boss is sitting by the pond.”

  Jack leaned over to Julie. “I was hoping to see inside.”

  “Me too,” she sighed. “To live in a place like this…”

  Arc led the twins past the guards, through the gate, and around the garden. There was no shortage of wiry grass and even a few blooming flowers sitting in deep-brown flowerbeds. Arc had always wondered where Millar had gotten the rich soil that allowed his plants to thrive, but considering his visits were in relation to the man’s dead daughter, he decided it would be inappropriate to ask.

  He walked around the side of the house and Millar came into view. He was a stocky man with greying hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He wore grey dress trousers and a white shirt with a red tie, having taken inspiration from the businessmen from before the Arcanaclysm. Now that Arc thought about it, Millar would have been alive before that, but he wouldn’t have been much older than a toddler in those days.

  As the guards had said, Millar was sitting by a small pond where a handful of silvery fish were swimming around aimlessly. The man was transfixed by the creatures who had not a care in the world, perhaps because he longed to have no burdens of his own, but no man worth a damn is truly carefree.

  “And what brings you back into my midst, Arc the Hawk?” asked Millar without looking up. “I know that Colt is still alive because a few of his men were in town just yesterday.”

  Jack and Julie exchanged worried glances. For all they knew, they had unwittingly walked past the bandits.

  “I’m working on that,” replied Arc. “I have no doubt you know about my failure to kill him in the pass a couple of weeks ago, but it did leave him short a few pickups and ten men.”

  “That’s good,” said Millar, looking up with a faint smile. “A little bit of frustration and misery for him before he dies.”

  “And three days ago, I blew one of his outposts to smithereens and killed another twelve of his men, including one of his generals.”

  “Hammington? Hawthorne? Benson? Who was it?”

  “Benson.”

  “Ah, I see. Did Kenny Wormwood give you the location?”

  “He did…half-heartedly.”

  “Good,” said Millar, standing up and putting his hands in his pockets. “Tell me everything.”

  Arc relayed his tale from his meeting with Kenny to the moment he walked away from the burning ashes of the outpost. He kept the information about the young woman the bandits had brought in on the light side, not wanting to expose the twins to such atrocities, but Millar knew Colt and his men’s methods well enough to pick up on the subtle suggestions.

  “That one will hurt,” said Millar, looking back to the fish. “Benson is one of his most cutthroat men. It’s exactly why he’s kept on the edge of Colt’s territory. If any of Darcy the Jackal’s men encroach too far, he’s the perfect person to ensure their torture and disfigurement before being sent back as a warning. Frankly, Arc, you’re lucky to be alive.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “I suspect he thought it was funny watching me starve while awaiting his boss’s arrival. I’m just glad I could rip that chance away from him…along with his head.”

  Julie winced at the thought, but Jack was in awe. He knew Arc was tough, having seen it for himself a few times over, but to have survived such a dire situation was miraculous.

  “It’s a good thing you snuck your gun in,” said Millar.

  “Yeah, I wasn’t sure if that tactic would work,” replied Arc with a laugh while scratching the back of his head. “I thought Benson would have seen it for sure, but it must have been those stupid sunglasses of his.”

  “I would say that it was arrogance.”

  “He had no shortage of that.”

  “And what is it that I can do for you? I know that you didn’t come here to simply give me an update.”

  “I was wondering if you’d been able to source me any more supplies?”

  “Ah, the contingency that we discussed…”

  Millar reached into his pocket and pulled out a small handheld radio. He pressed a button on the side. “Darius, bring the red one out.”

  “Just the one?” asked Arc.

  “Just the one,” said Millar. “Colt has been giving the suppliers some grief.”

  “Yeah, Jamison had said as much. Another reason to see to it that he doesn’t make it past next week.”

  “As if there needed to be another reason.”

  “Of course,” said Arc.

  Julie stepped forward, bowed her head, and clasped her hands by her waist. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Mr Millar.”

  Millar didn’t know how to react for a moment. His lip quivered, but he held himself together. “Thank you, child,” he said. “I can already tell that my Caroline would have liked you. She was only a few years older than you, you know. What’s your name?”

  “Julie,” the young girl replied, looking up to make eye contact.

  “And my name’s Jack,” said her brother. “We’ll do whatever we can to help Arc. I promise.”

  “I appreciate that, but it would be best if young ones like yourselves didn’t involve yourself with such dangerous people. Frankly, I’m not sure why Arc brought you both here.”

  “They’re my intrepid assistants,” said Arc. “But don’t worry about them, I wouldn’t bring them into one of Colt’s bases, especially the one he’s twiddling his thumbs in.”

  “Knowing Colt, he’s doing anything but twiddling his thumbs.”

  A man walked around the corner holding a small red cartridge between his index finger and thumb. On the side of the bullet, was an emblazoned rune. The man was wearing similar armour to the guards out the front and had a shotgun slung over his back. He approached Millar and gave him a salute with his right hand.

  “Thank you, Darius,” said Millar, gesturing towards Arc.

  Darius pivoted rigidly to face Arc, ceased his salute, and handed over the spell cartridge. Arc immediately identified it as another Arcane Shot, bringing his total back up to five. As much as he would have liked a few spares or even other spells at his beck and call, he was happy with his five red bullets and lone white bullet for the time being. For everything else, he had his revolver.

  “Cheers,” said Arc, giving Darius a nod. The guard then swiftly departed and Arc turned back to Millar. “Thank you for finding this, Mr Millar. Even without worrying about supply lines, it’s getting harder to find larger batches of cartridges.”

  “Perhaps that’s because there are fewer men left who can make them,” said Millar with a raised eyebrow.

  “Who makes them?” asked Jack.

  “Wizards,” said Arc, making the young man laugh, but he cut it short when Julie gave him a nudge.

  “I assure you, young man,” said Millar, “that wizards still exist, but most of them have the sense to keep their heads down lest they be deprived of them. However, I have hope that times will change as my generation dies off and people forget the world that once was and are forced to accept the world that is.”

  “One day,” sighed Arc. “We’ll leave you in peace, Mr Millar.”

  “Good luck, Arc the Hawk,” said Millar. “And stay safe, children.”

  The trio departed, leaving Millar who returned to staring into this pond where one of the fish was poking its face above the surface. Once Arc and the twins had passed through the gate and were back on the streets of Pembroke, Jack asked a question that was burning in his mind.

  “Can people who make regular bullets not replicate spell cartridges if they have one to base it off?”

  “I know of a few people who tried,” said Arc, scrunching up his face. “But they’re either dead or have lost a limb. Nah, once a spell is contained within a bullet, it’s in there for good and nobody can open a cartridge without triggering it. Similarly, someone without magical training or aptitude will only cause themselves a whole heap of strife should they read a spell scroll aloud in their vain hope of trapping it within an empty cartridge.”

  “And why can’t the wizards who are left mass produce them?”

  “Because of the way magic works. If a wizard has a scroll, he can cast that spell by simply reading it and the paper burns up before him. If he copies it to his spellbook, he can use it freely, but there’s a slight hitch that stops these mages from unleashing endless spells.”

  “Their memories?” asked Julie.

  Arc raised an eyebrow. “How’d you know that?”

  “I read about it in a book I found last year.”

  “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  Julie smiled and her walk turned into a giddy skip.

  “You’ve met wizards before, haven’t you?” asked Jack.

  “Yep,” said Arc.

  “Is it true that you took down a lich?”

  “I didn’t think you would even know what a lich was,” said Arc, taken aback. “But yeah, it’s true. That was a few years ago and I certainly didn’t do it alone. Had my old buddy Jono not done his research, my entire group would probably be roaming an old crypt in service to Shutan the Ruined. How’d you hear about that story anyway?”

  “People around here know more about your past than we do,” said Jack.

  Arc pondered this for a moment. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true. But does it matter when you know me and not my deeds?”

  Jack bit his lower lip as he thought. “I suppose it doesn’t, but you’re still an enigma.”

  “I can’t say I know much about your past either, but I know the pair of you are good kids. You’ve got a bit of an attitude, Jacky Boy, but I know it’s because you want to protect Julie.”

  “He beat another kid bloody last week,” said Julie quietly.

  “Did he deserve it?” asked Arc.

  “Yes,” admitted Julie.

  “Had the other kid learned his lesson?”

  “He walked past us a couple of days ago and avoided all eye contact.”

  Arc put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Then you did a good thing, my friend. And don’t let that snitch of a sister tell you otherwise.”

  Jack laughed heartily while Julie scowled.

  “I’m not a snitch…”

  “That’s what all snitches say, young lady,” said Arc. “Now, let’s get to Jamison’s. Maybe he’s heard something from his suppliers about where Colt is holed up.”

  Arc, Jack, and a seething Julie continued along, making their way back towards the street where Jamison’s armoury lay. As they walked, they heard a distinct rumbling of a vehicle somewhere a few streets away, but it sounded like it was coming closer.

  The three turned their heads as the smoky rumbling grew louder. Arc’s jaw dropped as two pickup trucks drove up the street and parked outside the local watering hole, Desert’s Lament, and four men jumped out with thirsty grins on their filthy faces. They glanced around and one of them locked eyes with Arc for a split second.

  “Cover!” called Arc as he dove on top of the twins to shield them from a slew of gunfire.

  Arc and Julie crawled behind a low wall while Jack rolled behind a crate outside of Jamison’s shop.

  “Colt’s men?” asked Julie, her voice trembling.

  “That dopey son of a bitch who shot at us was the only other survivor of the wreckage,” said Arc, checking his revolver as loaded. “I never got his name, but I remember his ugly mug.”

  Arc leaned around the corner and fired three rapid shots at Colt’s men. He threw himself back as a rain of bullets struck the wall. Some whizzed over it, shattering the windows of the grocery store behind.

  “Missed ‘em all,” said Arc with a sigh, switching his revolver for his spellcaster. “Seems like a waste…”

  He leaned around once more and fired two shots at the men. The cylinder glowed blue and clicked, sending the bullets speeding down the barrel. They discarded their binding cases and erupted as arcane energy. The Arcane Shots homed in on their targets, striking them in the chests and collapsing their ribcages. As their broken bones pierced their hearts and lungs, the two men dropped and died a quick, but agonising death.

  Arc leaned around once more, but he only saw one man remaining. Where had the other gone? He switched back to his revolver, hoping to save as many of his spell cartridges as he could. To use them against lackeys rather than the head honcho pained him. They would be a last resort.

  Suddenly, the ignition started on the trucks and Arc sprung over the wall, taking careful aim at the backmost driver and, with a squeeze of his trigger, splattered the bandit’s brains across the windshield as the other—the man who recognised him—sped off at full throttle.

  “Things could have gone worse,” said Arc out the side of his mouth. “You alright, Julie?”

  “Yes,” said the young girl, peeking out from behind the wall. She was shaking relentlessly as the adrenaline coursed through her, but she did indeed seem to be okay.

  “How about you, Jack?” Arc called over to the crate.

  There was no answer.

  “Jack?” Arc called again, rushing over. He froze in horror upon seeing no sign of the young man.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Julie, hurrying over to join Arc. She clasped her hands to her mouth when she saw her brother was not there. “Where is he?” she cried out.

  “There’s no blood,” said Arc, looking around. “He must have slipped away to somewhere safer when the—”

  Arc slowly turned his head to look at Julie. The look on his face elevated her fear.

  “Tell me,” she said quietly.

  Arc sprinted to the pickup truck, threw Colt’s dead lackey to the ground, and jumped inside. He wiped the bloodied windshield with his sleeve, leaving an even more obfuscating red smear. The reason he had only seen one man before was because the other was busy grabbing Jack and throwing him in the back of his truck. The young man was bait to lure Arc to Colt.

Recommended Popular Novels