By Zachary Holbrook
The bartender offered a glass of whiskey, but Kronzar turned it down. He didn’t have the coin to pay for a drink, even if he could look at the stuff without memories of flames searing his mind. Flames, and the screams of one he was supposed to protect.
“So… if you don’t drink, what’re you doing in a bar?”
“I’m looking for employment,” Kronzar said, turning back to answer Cane’s question. “I heard you’re hiring?”
Cane twirled his glass. “That depends. How angry do you want to make the merchant lords?”
Kronzar hesitated. “Um. Not very angry. But maybe a little bit, if absolutely necessary.”
He was already wanted for the fire at the last tavern. And he was desperate for work—any work. Anything that would distract him from his failed duty.
“I know someone who’s looking to recruit a youngster with… unusual talents,” Cane said. “Good pay, long term job stability. A great person to work for, if you don’t piss him off. What do you say?”
“Talents?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the kind displayed at…” Cane’s voice dropped. “The Pregnant Rock Tavern a few months ago?”
Kronzar stiffened, heat rushing to his hands. “I don’t have anything of that sort.”
Cane raised an eyebrow, barely visible in the shadows of his hood. “Really? Because my boss is a very good person to have as a friend. I recommend you get on his good side if you have something he wants.”
Kronzar scooted his chair back, glancing at the exit. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Cane unsheathed a knife and scratched a mark into the table. Three parallel lines with a jagged scar crossing over them. The mark of the Thief Lord.
Kronzar stood up. The last thing he needed was to get involved with the most powerful criminal mastermind in Dustubria’s underworld. “Sorry, but I’m not the person you’re looking for. You’ve got me mixed up with someone else.”
Kronzar exited the bar as a gang of dust smugglers began a riotous drinking song. Different people than the ones Kronzar had briefly fallen in with, but similar enough that he couldn’t help covering his face as he rushed past them. He glanced back one last time, just long enough to see Cane watching him, smiling.
The scene caused Melsu’s worried face to rise unbidden in his mind. She’d trusted him after their parents died. Trusted him after he started working for the merchant lords and thought he was some hotshot dust smuggler who deserved to get drunk with his crew when he ought to be at home. Trusted him just long enough to get killed.
Kronzar clenched a fist and strode down the dirt street, pretending to go somewhere. In reality, he wandered aimlessly until he noticed Cane following him. Kronzar’s hand dropped to the vial at his belt. There’d been rain yesterday, so he should have ample fuel in case of a confrontation.
What was he thinking? He couldn’t use his powers to fight the Thief Lord’s minions. They’d only come after him in greater force if they received confirmation of his abilities. His mother had sacrificed day and night while she was alive to keep their heritage hidden. He wasn’t about to throw that away.
Kronzar darted down an alleyway when Cane seemed to be distracted. He found refuge in a corner between two squat tenements. At least, he thought it was refuge until two armed men stepped out of the shadows.
Cane joined them. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider my offer?”
Kronzar shook his head.
Cane gestured to his men. “Do it.”
The two thugs drew their hydropistols. Kronzar moved by instinct, bringing his hand down to shatter the glass vial. The liquid splashed over his skin, and Kronzar felt power erupt from within him, igniting it.
The black liquid burned ordinary men. Kronzar burned it.
A ball of fire engulfed Kronzar’s hand, then flew towards Cane. His minions scattered, their shots going wide.
Cane laughed. “No special talents, huh?”
Dread settled in Kronzar’s heart. He had to kill these men, then escape Dustubria—go somewhere the Thief Lord could never find him.
He directed an inferno towards his foe, but the fire was ripped from his control. Kronzar gasped and stumbled back. He looked up to see his flames vanish into the outstretched palm of a new figure, a woman whose long hair obscured her face.
He wasn’t the only one of his kind. The realization stunned him for a moment, until the woman turned towards him. Half her face was ruined—a mass of scar. But he immediately recognized the keen grey eye staring at him from the other half.
“Melsu?”
She approached him, flames swirling about her fingers in intricate patterns. Kronzar watched in amazement. He’d never been able to exercise that kind of control, and Melsu? His sister didn’t even have the gift… did she?
“I am Melsu. But I am not the girl you left behind. I have… changed.”
Kronzar felt the heat of her gaze. She alone knew his full guilt. “Melsu… I’m sorry. I was a fool.”
Melsu turned and strode away.
“Wait!” Kronzar said. “I want a second chance. At being your brother, the one you always deserved.”
Melsu glanced back. “Oh, you’ll get a second chance. At what though… you’ll have to see for yourself. Follow me.”
“Where are we going?”
“To my teacher, the one who pulled me from your wreckage.” Melsu raised a hand, and fire issued from it, forming a pattern in the air. The symbol of the Thief Lord.
Kronzar gulped and followed her into the street.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
This story is set in the same world as one of my earlier stories for Havok, ‘One Shot’.
Also, if the cliffhanger ending bothers you, don’t worry. Kronzar will return. Maybe not in Havok, but I already finished the first draft of a novel in which he plays an important role.
Oooh, cool! I loved One Shot. :D I don’t see any connection between the two right off, but that just intrigues me even more! You’ve got a really awesome world going here.
Great story, Zachary!
If you read them again, you’ll notice that the same type of weapon, hydropistols, appears in both stories. There are other connections that will become more evident as I continue to write in this world.
Good story. It was moved at a good pace and was gripping all the way through.