Outtake from MLTF (Part 1 of 5)
For this week, I'll be posting a chapter from Magic Lost, Trouble Found that didn't make it into the final version. It features Karl Cradok, the crime lord of Mermeia, and more of Quentin. In streamlining the book, my editor and I decided that the Karl/Quentin subplot had to go. But both Karl & Quentin are still in reserves as characters to be included in future books. Karl's a slippery one, and Quentin's known for getting into everything -- so who knows where they'll turn up? ; ) Enjoy!
Karlerius Cradok was the self-proclaimed crime lord of our fair city. His name was really Karl, but none of his lieutenants dared to remind him. He had added the suffix to be more impressive to the magic users under his control, though he didn't need it. Karl was a powerful enough sorcerer all by himself. You couldn't be boss of anything in Mermeia without a certain level of magical talent. To me, he was just Karl. It was the name his mother had given him, and if it was good enough for her, it was good enough for me.
Karl also used to be Quentin's boss. They hadn't parted on good terms. I could see Karl forcing Quentin into what was essentially a suicide job. He could be a nasty little man when he put his mind to it. Though if Karl had hired Quentin, it made one thing easier for me--I wouldn't have to add a new name to my list of least-liked people. Karl Cradok already had a permanent spot.
Right now, Karlerius Cradok was scared, a trait you just didn't see everyday in a crime lord of a city.
Through hundreds assorted malefactors--magical and otherwise--scattered throughout the city, Karl was behind the daily, if not hourly, breaking of nearly every law Mermeia had on its books. Prosecuting him was complicated by his lack of traceable involvement in any of them--and by a lack of victims willing to press charges or witnesses willing to testify. Most people were afraid of him and what he could order done.
My family wasn't most people. We had been attacked and were feeling more than a little vengeful. At least Phaelan was. But unlike my cousin, I didn't necessarily think Karl's head on a platter or innards on a spit was the most prudent course of action. I didn't want to strong-arm Karl, just let him know it was time he played nice. Now.
Though if he wasn't inclined to behave, I was willing to do whatever was necessary to get Quentin back. I hoped heavy-handed persuasion wouldn't be necessary, but I wasn't holding my breath. Intimidation had been sufficient with Ocnus. I was hoping Mychael Eiliesor and his boys would have the same effect on Karl. If that failed, I wasn't opposed to having Phaelan's crew or a few select Guardians teach Karl better manners. Though considering how I felt about our destination, I might be persuaded to lend a hand myself.
I had been in The Ruins last night and had absolutely no desire to repeat the experience. Ever. Yet here I was again, same time, same swamp. I wondered if Chigaru Mal'Salin was still camped out at Tam's place. Less than likely. I had to grin at that thought. After I told Tam who his houseguests were, I'd imagine the Nathrach family home was now less than hospitable towards visitors. Tam knew some very creative--and vindictive--wards.
When it came to criminal elements, The Ruins wasn't the worst part of the city, but it was bad enough that a group of heavily armed men loitering around The Ruins would be ignored. In certain sections of Mermeia, self-preservation could make you overlook almost anything. Between our numbers and our armaments, I couldn't imagine anyone walking up and asking stupid questions.
I had an interesting surprise waiting for me when we got there. Interesting in a stomach-clenching sort of way. There were already armed men loitering on the entrance to The Ruins. The stomach-clenching part was that I knew them.
Janek Tawl and six of his watchers were waiting for someone, and I think that someone was me. In the chaos that had been my life for the past two days, I'd essentially forgotten about Janek. From his grim expression, he hadn't forgotten about me.
And I thought Karl was going to be tonight's problem.
Karlerius Cradok was the self-proclaimed crime lord of our fair city. His name was really Karl, but none of his lieutenants dared to remind him. He had added the suffix to be more impressive to the magic users under his control, though he didn't need it. Karl was a powerful enough sorcerer all by himself. You couldn't be boss of anything in Mermeia without a certain level of magical talent. To me, he was just Karl. It was the name his mother had given him, and if it was good enough for her, it was good enough for me.
Karl also used to be Quentin's boss. They hadn't parted on good terms. I could see Karl forcing Quentin into what was essentially a suicide job. He could be a nasty little man when he put his mind to it. Though if Karl had hired Quentin, it made one thing easier for me--I wouldn't have to add a new name to my list of least-liked people. Karl Cradok already had a permanent spot.
Right now, Karlerius Cradok was scared, a trait you just didn't see everyday in a crime lord of a city.
Through hundreds assorted malefactors--magical and otherwise--scattered throughout the city, Karl was behind the daily, if not hourly, breaking of nearly every law Mermeia had on its books. Prosecuting him was complicated by his lack of traceable involvement in any of them--and by a lack of victims willing to press charges or witnesses willing to testify. Most people were afraid of him and what he could order done.
My family wasn't most people. We had been attacked and were feeling more than a little vengeful. At least Phaelan was. But unlike my cousin, I didn't necessarily think Karl's head on a platter or innards on a spit was the most prudent course of action. I didn't want to strong-arm Karl, just let him know it was time he played nice. Now.
Though if he wasn't inclined to behave, I was willing to do whatever was necessary to get Quentin back. I hoped heavy-handed persuasion wouldn't be necessary, but I wasn't holding my breath. Intimidation had been sufficient with Ocnus. I was hoping Mychael Eiliesor and his boys would have the same effect on Karl. If that failed, I wasn't opposed to having Phaelan's crew or a few select Guardians teach Karl better manners. Though considering how I felt about our destination, I might be persuaded to lend a hand myself.
I had been in The Ruins last night and had absolutely no desire to repeat the experience. Ever. Yet here I was again, same time, same swamp. I wondered if Chigaru Mal'Salin was still camped out at Tam's place. Less than likely. I had to grin at that thought. After I told Tam who his houseguests were, I'd imagine the Nathrach family home was now less than hospitable towards visitors. Tam knew some very creative--and vindictive--wards.
When it came to criminal elements, The Ruins wasn't the worst part of the city, but it was bad enough that a group of heavily armed men loitering around The Ruins would be ignored. In certain sections of Mermeia, self-preservation could make you overlook almost anything. Between our numbers and our armaments, I couldn't imagine anyone walking up and asking stupid questions.
I had an interesting surprise waiting for me when we got there. Interesting in a stomach-clenching sort of way. There were already armed men loitering on the entrance to The Ruins. The stomach-clenching part was that I knew them.
Janek Tawl and six of his watchers were waiting for someone, and I think that someone was me. In the chaos that had been my life for the past two days, I'd essentially forgotten about Janek. From his grim expression, he hadn't forgotten about me.
And I thought Karl was going to be tonight's problem.
posted by Lisa Shearin at
8:37 AM
2 Comments:
Aha. A little twist in the road that got straightened in the editing process.
Another great read. Thanks for posting. Looking forward to more.
I had about 108 pages of twists in the road. But being an editor in my day job, cranking up the editing chainsaw was a lot of fun.
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