Outtakes from MLTF (Part 3 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!

The most likely place in The Ruins for Karl to hole up and hold Quentin would be on the northern section of the island where the servants of the island's great houses had lived. It was dark, dank, and had slimy things aplenty. No doubt Karl felt right at home. Mermeia's criminal elements tended to steer clear of the renegade mages. The mages preferred the ruins of the great houses, so the criminals preferred to be somewhere else. Even though Karl considered himself a mage, he was bright enough to know when he was outgunned. It didn't matter how many bullyboys you had working for you, some things you just didn't want to run into in the dark.

Karl's fiefdom in The Ruins wasn't easily accessible due to boobytraps and nature's barriers, and was easily defendable for the same reasons. We were going in with Guardians, Phaelan's crew and now members of the city watch. That would give us more than enough for backup and to cover the exit and make sure there was one when the time came to leave. I had no doubt that ours would be a fast exit. Nothing could make a night go from bad to worse like coming in one way only to find it blocked when you wanted to leave.

Janek and Riggs were leading the way and the rest of us were content to let them. I was a firm believer in letting the qualified do their jobs. The watch had commissioned the maps and memorized them, and the watch had the unfortunate task of patrolling The Ruins on a regular basis. As far as qualifications went, it worked for me.

After a couple dozen yards, it got even darker, and entirely too quiet. Goblin eyes would have been hard pressed to see through that murk. The murk wasn't a natural part of the landscape. Then again, what was?

The blond axe wielder, whose full name I'd discovered was Vegard Rolfgar, shouldered his way to the front. "Lightglobes or torches?" he asked his commander.

"Globes," Eiliesor said.

"Torches are also weapons," Phaelan pointed out, a short saber in his hand.

"So are globes."

While the globes ensured that anything and everything out there could see us, we would also know when anything and everything came running at us. As far as tradeoffs went, I'd take it. The pale blue lightglobe Mychael produced illuminated moss-shrouded cypress, reeds, rotten ruins of wooden structures, and black water. Too much black water. Depths unknown, habitants undetermined, and as far as I was concerned, both could stay that way. Something was draped across the path some twenty feet ahead that I hoped was a tree root. Eiliesor went first, followed by Riston Kirkwode, the dark-haired Guardian from Tam's place, then Janek and Riggs. I followed with Phaelan. Four others followed at a distance to make sure nothing snuck up on us from behind.

Eiliesor was non-committal about our surroundings. Phaelan didn't like it at all. Janek and I didn't like it either, but then we'd been here before and had good reason for our mutual case of the heebie-jeebies.

The path forked in three directions. The one in the center curved after another twenty feet or so. Karl was trying to get crafty. I'm sure those paths led somewhere, but it wasn't anywhere we wanted to go, and nothing living down there was anything we wanted to meet. Being able to find things wasn't only relegated to objects or people. I could also find my way. Usually.

Everyone had an off day.

"Which way?" Mychael asked.

"Straight up the center," I said. It was the one without any forks. It was also the darkest.

Those who guarded Karl may be the biggest, but they weren't necessarily the brightest. He tried to keep it simple for them. Keeping them from stumbling into some of the The Ruins' less desirable areas kept them alive to protect him a little longer.

"Is that what the beacon is telling you?"

"No, it's what I already know."

Phaelan peered into the gloom. "Hmmm, looks dangerous." He nudged me in the ribs and winked. "You go first."

"Me?"

"That necklace of yours hasn't let you get killed yet. I'm thinking it's not going to stop playing watchdog now."

Chivalry wasn't dead, but sometimes when it got around Phaelan it took a nap. Apparently, he thought the beacon was dependable. I'd like to have shared his confidence.