Freelance Heroics (Firesign Book 2) Read online

  A familiar feeling crawled up Gavi’s spine. It was dread. “Would it help if I said you could have a beer?”

  “Nope, but I’ll take it,” said Mazik as a beer slid in front of him. “I say we go with the crazy plan. I think you’re gonna like it.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that,” said Gavi. Raedren nodded.

  *

  Mazik, Gavi, and Raedren were in a bar. They were relaxing after a long week, and had been there for some time. A third beer had turned into a fifth as they discussed how they became casters, and the sixth beer had just arrived.

  “What did you major in again?” asked Gavi.

  “Me?” said Mazik.

  “No, Rae. I know what you majored in, you maniac.”

  “I resemble that remark!” Mazik grinned.

  “I majored in protection,” said Raedren.

  “Really? I always thought you did enhancement, because of the regeneration clinic job.”

  “I thought about it, but decided against it. I think it was near the end of our first year… .”

  Mazik flopped onto his cheap dorm room bed. “So, what are you going to major in?”

  Raedren set aside his textbook. “Not sure. I’m still trying to decide between enhancement and protection.”

  “Really? Enhancement surprises me.” Mazik sat up. “I know you’re good at it, but I don’t see you getting much use out of it. Now, if it was possible to enhance mental traits, I could see that. I know you’ve always wished for a real brain.”

  “That was terrible,” said Raedren.

  “I know. I wasn’t really trying. What’s your conundrum?”

  “I’m probably better at protection magick, especially hard barriers5, and I can get a job using those. Mostly it would be defense work, though, and I’m not sure that’s what I want to do.”

  “You could specialize in binds6,” said Mazik.

  “That would lead to what, city guard work? I’m not sure about that either,” said Raedren. “I think I want something a little more quiet.”

  “How is enhancement going to help with that? It’s the most common major. Even if you’re better than everyone else, you’ll have lots of competition.”

  “But I could minor in rejuvenation or healing,” said Raedren. “Rejuvenation would be cool, but there aren’t many good jobs for helping people boost energy back temporarily.”

  “I like it for last-minute studying,” said Mazik, grinning.

  “Healing would be good, though. There are a lot of good jobs at hospitals and regeneration clinics, and I think helping people regrow limbs and stuff like that would be really rewarding.”

  “It probably doesn’t matter what you major in, to be honest,” said Mazik. “You’re pretty powerful. You could do either one and probably get the job you want, or get a general casting job, or something else entirely. Or you could double major.”

  “Maybe,” said Raedren. “How about you?”

  “Evocation!” said Mazik.

  “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

  “I want to make things explode!”

  “What are you going to do with an evocation major?”

  “Er—I’m not sure, actually,” admitted Mazik.

  “What about alteration? You could get some good jobs using that,” said Raedren.

  “Hmmm, I suppose.” Mazik leaned back in his chair. “Moving things without having to stand up or touch them is cool, but I don’t have the control for delicate stuff. Best I can do is push, pull, and accidentally break things. Maybe the occasional force bind7, but that’s it.”

  “Pretty typical,” said Raedren. “But isn’t that what majors are for? Getting better, I mean.”

  “Not this late in the game.”

  “But if you do evocation, you’ll have specialized in burning or exploding things. Aside from working in a hospital cauterizing wounds, or maybe construction, what work can you get doing that? Work that you’d want to do,” added Raedren.

  “It might help me survive my military service, for one.”

  “Well, there’s that.”

  *

  Paragon. Malediction. Vector. Bloodfist. The Tryrindar Knights. The Brotherhood of the Steel.

  Those were the names of the six largest adventuring guilds in Houk, the so-called Big Six. Like a cartel fixing prices, they used their government-approved oligopoly to set average rates, distribute lucrative quests, and censure members who stepped out of line. Within Houk their control over the adventuring trade was nearly absolute, with only the Tyrant standing as a check to their power. But she was busy, and rarely bothered.

  This month the Guildmaster’s Council was meeting at Paragon’s guildhall. It was a utilitarian building, more in common with a military barracks than the raucous beer halls of most guilds. Raucous it was now, though, and it made Mazik smile. The crowd behind him heckled and jeered as Mazik climbed onto a milk crate.

  Mazik cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hellooo! Are the big bad guildmasters in today? We’d like to have a woooord with yooou!”

  On either side of the crate, Gavi and Raedren shook their heads.

  “Do you have to antagonize them?” asked Gavi.

  “We’re going to be doing that enough already,” said Raedren.

  “Eh, fuck ’em,” said Mazik. “Besides, what’s the point in gathering this crowd if we don’t give them a show, right?” he said, raising his voice.

  The mob responded with a cheer. Like all Houkians, they were looking forward to some good old-fashioned street theatre. What was unusual was that they had gathered ahead of time. This was by design—walking ten blocks with Mazik shouting “We’re going to challenge the guilds!” was probably overkill, but he loved a good audience. Likewise with the reporter from the Houk Times. Mazik didn’t believe in taking chances, unless taking chances looked like more fun.

  Mazik watched as the curtains behind the second-story balcony twitched aside.

  “Ooo, there they are. Everyone wave!” said Mazik. The crowd laughed.

  The curtains opened and the windows swung wide, revealing themselves to be doors. The nine members of the Guildmaster’s Council stepped onto the balcony.

  Warmaster Evii’Katünche of Paragon stepped forward. A proud woman who famously expected much from her guild—and even more from herself—she wore dusty cream robes that stopped just below her knees, revealing khaki pants, and her hair was restrained with a clasp that pulled it tight at her forehead and temples.

  “What can we do for you?” asked Warmaster Evii.

  “Good afternoon! We just wanted to discuss a few things with you,” said Mazik.

  Warmaster Evii glanced at the crowd. “Of course. If the three of you would like to step inside, we’ll sit down and chat.”

  “No, that’s okay,” said Mazik, holding up a hand. “Here is fine. I think everyone would like to hear this.”

  Warmaster Evii’s expression didn’t change. “All right. What would you like to discuss?”

  “You’ve been stonewalling us from joining a guild for a month now. That’s petty, but within your rights. That’s not what we want to talk about.” Mazik cleared his throat.

  “Your actions led to the deaths of good Houkians,” he said. “There are soldiers, guards, and even civilians who are dead right now because you would rather play petty games when lives are on the line.”

  A ripple went through the crowd, and the crowd nearest Mazik edged away. Several of the guild leaders looked like they wanted to jump down and tear Mazik’s head off.

  Mazik ignored them. His attention was focused entirely on Warmaster Evii, who hadn’t moved a muscle. Mazik grinned and continued.

  “Of course, I’m talking about the kidnapper quest you so badly bungled last month. Because you were unable to find the kidnappers for so long, and because you sent so few people to help when they were finally cornered, innocent people are now dead who didn’t need to die. You didn’t cut them down, but you helped ensure their deaths, and that makes you partiall
y responsible.”

  “You’re not innocent in this,” said Warmaster Evii. “If you hadn’t botched the handoff we—”

  “Or we could still be saddled with the cult today,” snapped Mazik. “We don’t know what could have happened. What I do know is that you let the kidnappers terrorize the city for three months, and when it came time to put an end to them, you sent so little help we were barely able to finish off their god before it got loose. We made mistakes, but at least we acted, and brought every ounce of our power to bear on the problem. You didn’t. You offered a pittance of your power, and it almost led to a god ruling from the Tyrant’s Palace.”

  “Their deaths are regrettable, but I disagree with your version of events. We used all available information to decide who to send, and though we underestimated their numbers we—”

  Mazik waggled his fingers, pantomiming a flapping mouth. “Blah, blah, blah. What about all of you?” he asked, turning to the crowd. “How do you feel? Just those nine up there would have been enough to put that god down with ease. How do you feel about the Big Six? Do you like how they walk around acting like they know everything and are better than everyone else?”

  The crowd grumbled. Most citizens tried to stay out of the guilds’ ways, but the Big Six’s reputation was rocky at the best of times. People don’t like bullies, even if they won’t say it to their faces.

  “And they act like that even though they couldn’t find those kidnappers for three months. Makes you wonder if they’re really that good, doesn’t it?” said Mazik. The crowd laughed.

  “Regardless of your version of events, you’re leveling accusations, not discussing anything,” said Warmaster Evii. “Do you have anything to discuss or not?”

  “You know what I think your problem is?” Mazik went on. “I think you’re not used to losing. That’s why you can stand up there, looking down on us like a bunch of kings, and refuse to look reality in the eye. I think you’ve become too complacent.”

  Warmaster Evii said nothing.

  “I’d like to fix that!” said Mazik. He pointed at the guild leaders, a well-timed burst of mana ensuring his robes billowed dramatically.

  “We challenge the Big Six to a duel! The three of us versus the best duelist in each of the Big Six. Six duels against six opponents, and we’ll do it with only three people. If you win, you’ll prove that you’re worthy of protecting Houk, and we won’t bother you anymore. But if we win, we want the Guildmaster’s Council to endorse our charter for a new adventuring guild, one dedicated to the defense of this city and its fine people!”

  Gavi had to give it to Mazik—his plan had put the council in a tough position. Though public opinion mattered little to the guilds, it mattered a great deal to the Tyrant, which was why she was still in power (and alive). If public opinion turned too sharply against the guilds, she could decide to take action, and then anything could happen. That meant the council needed to take care of this quietly, but Mazik had just made that impossible. Between the agitating crowd and the Times reporter, they couldn’t shush this up, and if they turned down the challenge when the numbers were so clearly weighted in the guilds’ favor, they would appear weak, cowardly, and arrogant.

  Of course, that doesn’t mean we’ll win even if they accept.

  Gavi watched as Warmaster Evii glanced at the other Big Six representatives. Several of them nodded.

  “We accept your proposal,” said Warmaster Evii. She continued even as the crowd’s cheers threatened to drown her out. “Paragon, Vector, the Brotherhood of the Steel, Malediction, Bloodfist, and the Tryrindar Knights will each send one person to this duel.”

  Mazik threw open his arms. “Excellent! About the time and place—”

  “Your terms are already kind enough. We cede the right to decide on the time and location to you,” said Warmaster Evii.

  Mazik grinned. “Thank you,” he said, and Gavi couldn’t help but smile. She had a feeling the council was going to regret that concession.

  *

  “There are other options,” said Raedren.

  “Like what?” asked Mazik. The two freshmen were discussing their college majors during a break between classes.

  “How about summoning? Being able to convert mana into physical objects is always in high demand.”

  “I don’t like the gray goo that spews out when a spell break. I always get it on my clothes.”

  “Maz.”

  “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Mazik lowered his hands. “Honestly, I wish I were better at summoning. I get how you imagine what you want to create, and I can do that for certain things, but I either can’t get it to form or it lasts for maybe half a minute, which is a far cry from the several hours to half a day a good summoner can get. Plus my stuff always glows too much.”

  “That’s only because you’re a beginner. I know a summoning major whose creations only sparkle once in a while, and with simple items she can even pass them off as authentic8.”

  “It’s a little late in the game to be going from beginner to expert, remember?” said Mazik. “This is for our majors, not our course catalog. That ship has sailed. If you like summoning so much, why don’t you major in it?”

  “Because I’m even worse than you, thanks for bringing that up,” said Raedren. Mazik stuck out his tongue. Raedren added, “Though if I could summon beer9, I would have tried harder.”

  “If only. What about illusion? You’re good at barriers, so illusions shouldn’t be a problem. Though come to think of it, I’ve never seen you try.”

  “Opposite problem from you. I have trouble picturing what I want to create, so my illusions always come out looking weird, when they work at all.”

  “Wait, is that why?” Mazik sat up. “That’s surprising. Is that why you never liked talking about that class?”

  Raedren nodded. “I bet I could even make them tactile10, but I’ve never tried. I can’t get them to stay up long enough once I notice how ridiculous they look.”

  “Hmm.” Mazik flopped back onto his bed. “Are there any others? I feel like we’re missing some.”

  “Just universal and unclassified, I think.”

  Mazik snapped his fingers. “That was it. Though I can’t major in mana regeneration and keening, and I wouldn’t want to major in the glorified miscellaneous pile for div crap, so that’s not useful.”

  “I guess it’s better to follow our natural aptitudes after all,” said Raedren.

  “Yup,” said Mazik. “So, evocation it is for me. How about you?”

  “Protection, I guess. Maybe I’ll still minor in enhancement or healing. Still not sure.”

  “Well, you’ve got time.” Mazik grabbed his bag and stood up. “Right now, though, we’ve got to get to class.”

  *

  Three days after their theatrics with the Guildmaster’s Council, Mazik, Gavi, and Raedren were back at the Kitpicc Gladiatorial Arena, the sunken coliseum colloquially known as The Pit. It was their first time back since they had helped kill a god out front a month ago.

  The three stood atop the Gate of Life, looking out over the arena. Much had changed since their last visit, with aimed at restoring the building to how it had been before. The arena floor, which once sported a gaping hole from when the late god Amougourest nearly killed them, had been completely repaired, though not much else had. Battle scars still marred many sections, especially the lowest deck where much of the fighting took place. Mazik suspected the Catacombs were still a mess as well.

  “I can’t believe the guilds agreed to this,” said Gavi. She watched as spectators filed into the stadium. Over half of the usable benches were already full, with people still pouring in.

  Mazik laughed. “Me neither. That’s why I made sure the Times heard about it first. I doubt they’ll ever make that mistake again, but it works in our favor for now.”

  A fat man in a lacy scarlet tunic waddled over and clapped Mazik and Raedren on the back. “Thank you again for bringing your fight to Kitpicc! The match has
already proven to be more popular than expected, and will go a long way toward helping with the repairs.”

  “No problem,” said Mazik, returning the announcer’s back clap. “We’re happy to help, since we weren’t able to keep it from getting banged up in the first place. We’ll try not to do too much damage today.”

  The announcer laughed, and his stomach undulated like fresh cream. “A little is fine, as long as it makes for a good show! We made sure to give you those columns you asked for, so feel free to make the matches exciting.”

  Gavi glanced at the eighteen columns that formed a circle just inside the arena walls. She cocked her head.

  “Cover, if we need it, or something spectacular to blow up,” said Mazik. “The crowd loves that kind of shit.”

  “Ah.”

  “I wish you all the luck in your bout,” said the announcer, shaking their hands. “I will be rooting for you, though obviously I cannot show any preference once the matches begin.”

  “We understand. Just try to make us sound impressive when you introduce us,” said Mazik.

  As the announcer retreated, the trio watched as the stadium filled. The crowd was already agitating for the matches to begin.

  Gavi looked around. “Where are the rest of our opponents?”

  While the announcer, referee, and other arena officials had set up directly above the Gate of Life, on either side were two covered benches where the competitors’ teammates would be able to watch the games. The one to the right had been set aside for the trio, while the other side was for their opponents. Only two of their opponents were present.

  “I’m sure they’ll come.” Mazik opened up his robes and checked his knives. They had been exchanged for blunt practice weapons from the arena’s armory. “I need to get into position. Everyone know the plan?”

  “Win as many matches as we can,” said Gavi. “I think we can remember that.”

  “Great! You two are the best,” said Mazik. Gavi snorted.

  “We only need to beat six people,” said Raedren. “Apropos of nothing, what are the odds at?”

  “The guilds are favored. Heavily,” said Mazik. “Last I heard the odds are set at us winning two or three matches, depending on your bookie, and I’ve heard some saying that’s optimistic. Used to be less before the guilds released that statement saying they were sending new and semi-retired people. Those ass-covering fucks.” Mazik stuck out his tongue.