Six of Ruin (Heirs of Irenwell #1)

Fear gave place to awkwardness as our group took in the small, wrinkled man angrily waving with his walking stick, the crease between his brows deepening. The warthog jumped around the man, wagging its pointy tail.

Danilo stepped forward with his usual ‘I-am-a-knight’ stroll, “Good afternoon, I am Sir Danilo of Danth-”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass!” The man shouted. “What have you done to the wolves? If you killed any of them, I will skin you alive!”

“The wolves are fine.” Danilo cleared his throat. “Worthy opponents, for sure-”

“Did it feel like I was interested in talking to you?” The man sneered. “Out with whatever it is you want and get out of here. Disturbing an old man’s slumber like that.”

“Uh,” I pushed down the nervousness, “We’re here to speak to the mage.”

“Mage?” The man’s eyes widened. “You’re not worthy of speaking to the mage.”

“Excuse me?” I put my hands on my hips.

Danilo immediately tried to stop me, “Irina-”

“No, no.” I cut him off and turned to the old man. “Do you have any idea who we are?”

The old man offered a self-satisfied smile, “Do I know who you are?”

The mock was unmistakable and I was suddenly not so sure in myself.

“Let’s see.” The old man pointed at me. “An entitled, self-centred whore.”

The gasp fell off my lips.

The man pointed at Danilo, “A high-up-his-ass, elitist prick.”

At Nickeltinker, “A squandered potential.”

At Torvald, “A tortured brute without basic grasp of abstract thought.”

And at Rixen, “And an immature, daddy-didn’t-love-me rebel without a cause.”

There was no proper way to explain the shock that settled between us. Awkward coughs and ashamed glances followed.

The old man seemed beyond satisfied with the outcome of his remarks, “Did I guess that correctly?”

Nickeltinker chuckled, “To a tee.”

The man grinned, “Well, goodbye to you all. Do not ever return.”

And he turned around to walk away.

“Wait.” Rixen called out, apparently just now finding his ability to talk. “We asked for the mage’s help, we sent a letter-”

“Why do you people always think you’re entitled to a response?” The old man faced us again. “The mage is not interested! He even hung the damn bird at his front door in case any of you little monsters came snooping around.”

“But we need help.” Slight desperation lingered in Danilo’s voice. He lost all of his usual prideful demeanour. “The magic in the land is awakening and we were sent to unlock the tome in Orathia. We cannot do it without a mage.”

The old man arched his white brow, “Do you think I am some kind of a recluse? I know what’s going on in the world.” The old man halted for a second, then raised his voice. “The mage is not interested!”

There. The way he caught his own slip-up in between the sentences told me everything I needed to know.

He was the mage.

I lifted the hem of my dress and pouted, “Well, alright, then. I suppose we should leave. There has to be another, more powerful mage out there who can help.”

Rixen’s confusion lasted for a mere second, “You are most certainly right, your Grace. There are still good mages in the world. I just hope what we have to offer has any value.”

The mage snickered, “Do you take me for an idiot? Spit it out!”

“Fine.” Rixen snapped. “We know the location of the Truthteller.”

The mage did not respond immediately. His wild green eyes danced across our faces, possibly trying to locate a lie. But we did know the location. The Truthteller was somewhere in Orathia. Did it matter that Orathia used to be the biggest kingdom in the world?

Finally, the mage took in a sharp breath, “You’ve earned yourself an invitation to my home.”

“Really?” My eyes widened.

“Well, not all of you.” The mage grinned. “The knight and the bastard have to stay out.”

“Excuse me?” Danilo raised his voice.

“You heard me, you empty-headed baboon.” The mage raised his finger as a response to Danilo’s loudness. “I do not allow royalty into my home.”

Danilo sucked in a breath, his hand lingering next to the hilt of his sword. “I am Sir Danilo of Danth, King Bernard’s only legitimate heir, and you are still within borders of Bastia.”

“Yap, yap, yap.” The mage mocked. “The moment you entered this forest, you stepped into the realm of Loria and your laws and customs became completely invalid. Now, if you don’t shut your yapping mouth this very second I will feed you to the wolves until there’s nothing but that swollen ego and a lock of your shiny hair left.”

Danilo grabbed his sword.

“Danilo-” All of us warned at the same time, realising he did not know this man was the mage.

But Danilo was already offended, “Who do you think you are, old man?”

“My name is As Ypsilos Gis Magos Tau Naz and you are not welcome in my home!”

The moment he lifted his head, it looked as if he’s shed some invisible illusion off himself. He straightened his back, suddenly becoming much taller. The light returned to his eyes, which now sparkled a deep, lively green. Wrinkles and creases covering his face now spoke of unknown wisdoms. His grey hair and beard turned fuller and healthier.

He was still old, but now he appeared alive, agile and intimidating.

An aura of power lingered around him.

Danilo backed away, his hand leaving the sword, “I apologize.”

“My name is Nickeltinker.” Nick stepped forward, grinning. “Love what you’ve done with the place, Mage As. Very threatening.”

“Come on in.” The mage said. “And please, call me Ace.”

“Sure thing.” Nick patted the warthog, which now wagged its tail happily.

“Oh,” Ace smiled at the warthog, “This little guy is Sir Francis Bacon the Third. He won’t bite.”

Torvald mumbled his name and him and Nick entered the small, stony cabin.

Danilo grabbed my hand, “I do not think you should go inside, Irina.”

I wiggled out of his grip and shot a mean look his way, “I have to.”

Danilo looked up at the mage, “Princess Irina is also royalty, she should not be allowed to go inside.”

Annoyance shot through my veins and I gazed at Rixen, who simply shrugged, remaining awfully quiet throughout this entire interaction.

Ace sneered, “Don’t you know women are allowed inside even when they do not have an invitation?” Then, he looked at me and added under his breath. “Someone might buy you a drink and I get a cut from every coin spent here.”

“Wait, buy me a drink?” I asked. “Where are we going?”

“Irina, stay outside.” Danilo commanded.

Ignoring Danilo, I looked at Rixen, “You’ve nothing to add?”

The shadowman raised his eyebrow, “Don’t get yourself killed.”

Danilo reached for me one more time, but I already grabbed the hem of my dress and walked to the door.

The mage turned around and sighed, “I will send somebody to take care of your wounds, I suppose, considering my wolves are the ones responsible. How did you even convince them to let you pass through?”

I pulled out the emerald pendant, partially to check its colour, “It’s Fae-made.”

The pendant glowed green.

Ace snickered, “The female side of your ancestral tree sure loved Fae.”

I frowned and followed the old man to the cabin, “What do you mean?”

Cabin’s interior looked much like the exterior. Plain wooden chairs and bed, with little to no detail, and little to no lightning. Only a couple of candles decorated the tables, wax spilling all over the wood. There was also no sight of Nickeltinker and Torvald.

I swallowed the emerging fear when I noticed the floor-door on the far left.

The mage pulled it up, “You’d like the Fae Folk, too, at least according to rumour.”

I felt as if he offended me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why.

Ace gestured for the door, “Ladies first.”

Bracing myself, I climbed down the wooden staircase. Music reached my ears immediately; deep tunes accompanied by drums and fast melodies. Unfamiliar, exotic, captivating.

Rich smell of musk, jasmine and some other, intense, sensual fragrances assaulted my nostrils, making my head spin. Voices reverberated through the smoke-filled air. My heartbeat picked up the pace, evening out with the rhythm of the music.

Before me, a huge, dimly lit space opened up. It was crowded with either people or furniture. Dark purple and red curtains hung from the ceiling and people passed through, disappearing in hidden rooms. Tables were laden with flagons and plates. Dark blue flowers decorated the curtains and floors and sofas.

Every single corner was filled with something, either gilded statues depicting strange human shapes or huge, aggressive plants that bobbed their flower-shaped heads in the rhythm.

My heart climbed up to my throat, beating through my skin. I inhaled the deep, rich smells and walked in, or was pulled in.

There wasn’t a single human being inside except for me.

A group of people with lizard-like skin played cards next to me, their elongated hands ended with claws. A couple of pink-skinned women danced around them, eyeing the cards through the black, narrow slits on their heads.

On the other end, a few grey-skinned individuals left the curtain-covered room. They weren’t entirely corporeal; their skin almost translucent and shimmering. They were taller than anything I’ve ever seen, too tall for the space they were in.

There were other races, too. Most of them resembled humans one way or the other, but they didn’t feel human. Nobody felt human in this place.

“Welcome to Loria’s Den, the hottest bar from Bastia to the eastern coast.” Ace grinned. “It’s members only, so be grateful I even let you in.”

Nickeltinker suddenly came into view, emerging from one of the rooms. His doll-like eyes were bigger than usual and an intoxicated grin gripped his face. Traces of white powder lingered under his nostrils.

“I so love this place!” Nickeltinker jumped up and down. “Ace, man, I’ll get you anything from the Bordering City or Shira if you can let me in anytime.”

The mage’s eyes widened, “Bordering City, you say? See, I owe this one guy money, so I cannot exactly show my face there.”

Nickeltinker nodded knowingly, “One of the Wise Men? Which one?”

“Fjorn.” Ace frowned.

Nick clapped, “He owes me money! That debt is settled.”

“Great!” Ace flicked his fingers and people moved away from the table in the middle. “My house is your house, floran.”

“What in the three hells is going on here?” I asked, scanning the weird atmosphere. “Where is Torvald?”

Nick glanced around, “I lost him. How is it possible to lose such a large guy in such a small space?”

“These rooms are sneaky.” Ace whispered under his breath. “I would not trust them. My magic went haywire.”

Urgency rolled off my tongue, “What is going on here?”

“Oh,” Ace pulled out a scroll from underneath his robes, “I am going to have to swear you to secrecy. Nobody can know about this place. They’re always watching, you know?” The mage’s wild eyes flickered with suspicion. “Trying to steal my home, rob me off my belongings.”

“Who’s they?” I asked.

“Sign here.” The mage pointed at the bottom off the page and gave me a black pen.

A little reluctantly, I signed my name, eyeing the mage.

“Now, have a seat.” He gestured at the table. “You’ve come to negotiate with me. We’re going to negotiate.”

I plopped on the satin-covered purple chair, which immediately lulled me into much needed comfort. Suspicion bugged my mind and I took Ace’s advice seriously. I should not trust these rooms. They wanted me to let loose, to forget why I was here.

Ace sat on the opposite side, his wild green eyes sparkling under the dim lights. I realised then that his eyes were alive, the fluid in his irises kept moving around, like liquid emeralds.

Nickeltinker sat next to me and I moved a little closer to the floran. Danilo should have come in with me. I did not feel safe.

A pink-skinned lady put a large glass flagon full of thick, oozy, azure-coloured liquid and three cups in front of us.

“What’s that?” I eyed the liquid.

Ace smiled, “You tricked my wolves with a Fae-made pendant. It’s only fair I trick you with something Fae-made as well.”

Alarm shot through my veins, “What is that?”

Nickeltinker poured himself a glass before I could stop him, “It’s yummy.”

“It’s the liquor of truth.” Ace said. “Oh, and the safe word is ding-a-ling.”

“Why would I need a safe word?” Panic laced my voice.

Ace grinned, “Let’s negotiate.”