Chapter 21
Von
God of Urn, Von didn’t have time for this. The bedraggled young man standing before him, looked as though he’d rolled out of a cave, and smelled as though he lived in one too. By the torn clothing, anyone would have guessed him a beggar, but he wasn’t starving. He was robust with a wildness about him and unsightly scars. It immediately made Von wary.
“Pardon me, sir, that wasn’t my intention,” the young man said. The edges of his canines flashed into view when he spoke. So, not human, then. “My name is Zev, and I’m searching for my cousin. I believe she came this way. She has red hair, about yea high.” He motioned to his lower chest to show her height.
Von studied him a bit longer before deciding his worry seemed genuine enough and gave Elon a signal to stand down. “Aye, I met the lass,” he said. “She stumbled into me before she meandered on yonder.” He motioned in a general direction toward the market.
“Thank you!” Zev said profusely then ran off and slipped into the crowd.
How did he know they had contact with her?
“Wolf,” Elon said as he tucked his dagger away.
“Aye?” Von arched a brow at his impassive companion.
Elon rarely spoke, and when he did, it was only for good reason. The elf lifted his hood over his head again, giving Von a glimpse of the scar on the back of his hand where his Red Highland tattoo used to be.
“How do you figure?” Von asked.
“Sensed it, Commander. Shifter magic.”
“Hmm.”
The lass they had bumped into didn’t appear to be of any relation to a werewolf. She had an endearing smile that reminded him of Yavi. The thought of returning to her had Von picking up his pace again.
“The young lady had strayed that way,” Elon said, motioning in the opposite direction Von had sent Zev.
“Oh.” He hadn’t paid attention to her after she begged her pardon and scurried off. His mind had been on his purpose in this town. “If he’s a werewolf, he’ll find her on his own soon enough.”
They crossed the town’s length to a narrow street that smelled of stale urine and sickly-sweet ale gone rancid. The cobblestone was slick though it hadn’t rained in days. Von curled his nose and avoided walking through any unidentifiable puddles. The timber buildings compacted close together, making the shaded street feel isolated. Muffled voices and music leaked through dark-stained windows and doors left cracked open.
Each entrance had carved wooden signs hanging from corroded chains with the names of their pubs. Von checked each one, looking for the sign that readBig Valley. He found it with the last pub that sat parallel to the main road leading out of town. Within the alley between the pub and another were two lads sitting on barrels waiting for him.
Geon jumped to his feet with a wide grin. “Commander Von, Captain Elon. You made it.”
The lad, with his tousled copper hair the same color as his jovial eyes, stood proud in his all-black uniform. It was inconspicuous enough. Simple trousers and a leather coat. It had no livery or emblem as intended. At fifteen-summers-old, he was the youngest Raider Von had recruited.
“Why wouldn’t he? You sent for him,” Dalton said in his smug Magos accent.
The young mage was only a year older than Geon but carried himself with an arrogance not fit for a slave. He flicked his brown hair out of his dark eyes and stood, resting his staff across his shoulders. On one end of the staff was a jagged, orange crystal, encased in an intricate weaving of carved wood. Brass bangles at his ankles—a clear representation of slavery—glinted beneath his umber robes as he moved.
Von crossed his arms. “The only one who summons me is the master. The Raider you sent back to the camp said you’ve found a Sacred Scroll. That is the only reason I’ve come.” Otherwise, he wouldn’t have risked showing himself in public. There were too many Rangers in these parts, and any of them would gladly turn him into the Azure Guard. “Where is it?”
Geon gave him a sheepish smile. “Ah, well, we don’t have it yet. We met a merchant who told us he had one for sale. He’s waiting inside.”
“He’s here?”
“Aye, in the taproom.”
“He’s a portly clod in posh garb,” Dalton added. “You can’t miss him.”
“Did you see the Scroll?”
Geon winced. “No, Commander.”
Von ground his teeth. “Then how did he know to approach you?”
