Obscurely Obvious Read online

  “The feeling is mutual.” Telic fell into step with the other man and put on his most winning smile. Most people found it difficult to resist. “Can’t one old friend seek out another without raising suspicion?”

  “We haven’t had much to say to each other in a long time, Telic. Get to the point.”

  It was Telic’s turn to frown. “All right, I will.” He laid a hand on Ashkar’s arm to stop him. “It’s the Luzz. I know what you’ve been doing. Taking them supplies is bad enough, Ashkar — but teaching them how to use magic? By the One Light! Have you no idea of the trouble you could get into? Or the trouble you could cause?” He watched as Ashkar’s face tightened in anger. For someone so gentle and quiet, his temper had always been mercurial. Who knew if he’d lash out? But no, they had been friends for far too many years. “They’re not worth risking your life.”

  “According to whom?”

  “Ask anyone! They’re a bunch of shiftless, half-witted parasites.”

  “And who pronounced this judgment? Have you ever given thought to the fact that they might need our help? Our guidance?”

  Telic stifled a burst of laughter. “Have you ever given thought to the fact that you are much too soft-hearted? I appreciate your talent for helping others but haven’t you got your hands full helping humans?”

  “I don’t draw the same lines that you do. I help those that need my help, no matter what their stature or race. The Luzzil are sentient creatures. I’ve watched the birth of their young, seen mothers comforting their children’s hurts, looked on as fathers taught their sons…”

  Telic took a deep breath, then let it ease out again. “You’re being pedantic.”

  A little smile curled the corner of Ashkar’s mouth. “The frog calling the fish wet?”

  “Not at all.” He was not gaining any ground. “I want you to stop, Ashkar. If not for yourself, then for the rest of our people.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re giving an education and a technology to a race that has no idea how to use it.”

  “What?” Ashkar made a mock show of astonishment. “You mean I might give them a sense of equality or something?”

  Telic’s temper stirred. “You could be escalating a war, man!”

  “Ah, I see.” Ashkar’s face fell into lines of disgust. “You and the other high and mighty government wetheads don’t want an open rebellion on your hands when you take the Luzzil Ones to your slave farms.”

  “No, Ash! Not slaves — useful and productive members of society. Can’t you see that’s the best thing for them? They can’t organize themselves in any practical way. They can’t even take care of their own! You’ve been to their villages — if you can call them that. They don’t even know how to build! They live in caves full of filth and disease. All we want to do is help them lead productive, healthy lives.”

  “No.” Ashkar’s face hardened. “You want to trap them and use them. The only reason they live the way they do is because people like you have forced them into poverty and ignorance.” He turned away to continue down the path, his light gleaming around his feet again.

  “Ash, wait!” Telic called. He felt a sliver of cold slice through him at the way Ashkar turned to glower at him. “I didn’t want to put it this way, but you have to stop. I have orders. Don’t do this again or I’ll have to stop you.”

  “Oh?” Ashkar raised a questioning brow. “How will you do that?”

  Telic’s face echoed Ashkar’s grimness. “However I must."

  The other man glared at him, then nodded reluctant understanding. “I think it’s only best to warn you then, that I’ll use whatever I must in order to aid the Luzzil Ones.” Long strides carried him down the path. Then, with a wink of the light surrounding his feet, he disappeared.

  It angered Telic that his childhood friend insisted upon carrying out his stupid scheme to improve the lot of the Luzz. The man was too soft. Always helping the weak and down-trodden. He never looked out for himself or the society that had given him birth and trained him in his arts of magic. He never had a thought for improving his station, but settled instead for being a Minor Mage. Not a Primary, or even a Secondary. He had no ambition at all unless you counted that of rescuing the Luzz. And what were they, after all? Short, frail little nothings without the good sense to get out of the rain. Rejects. Cast outs.

  He snorted in disgust. There must be some way to convince Ashkar to come around. The Light knew they could use his training with the Healing Magicks in the work camps. Conditions there — well, they weren’t any worse than those in the Luzz caves. If they could improve the living quarters so the pathetic beasts could live a decent lifespan, there would be no end to their usefulness. They could build great causeways, maintain the supply farms, work the fishing fleets, and be useful in a thousand ways. Their contribution would free the wiser and more talented humans to conduct the advancement of society. Telic had worked hard to get where he was in the hierarchy of the government police, and he wasn’t about to see it all go to nothing. It galled him that Ashkar refused to listen to reason. His little project could very well endanger thousands of human lives. If the years they’d spent growing up together meant nothing then what could he count on? If it came down to brute force, Ashkar would lose. The entire government was against him. The odds were too great for him to fight, even with his magic abilities. He was, after all, only a Minor Mage, and there were many other mages.

  The thinning of the mists and the pearly gray sheen of the sky bore testament to dawn under the great greenwoods. Shadows still clung to the ground. The thick boles of the sky-scraping trees concealed three guardsmen and a mage. Telic stood off the pathway. Every sunrise for the past week had found him waiting here. He knew that it was one of only two ways to get to the Luzz village on the cliffs and that Ashkar would have to use it eventually.

  “You’re sure we won’t have any trouble with him?” one of the guards asked, loosening his sword in its scabbard.

  “No. There are five of us and only one of him. He does his work alone.”

  The mage smiled in assurance. “You forget that you have a Secondary Mage in attendance, my young friend. I will have no difficulty at all restraining a Minor.”

  “Only a fool underestimates his quarry.”

  The mage hid his disdain by turning to gaze at the dim woodlands surrounding them. One of the guards watched the woods intently, fingering an amulet hung from a cord around his neck. Now and then one could see faces in the mist if they looked hard enough. Telic didn’t look. He saw no sense in inviting extra trouble, and had purposefully chosen sunrise to lay his trap. The light banished the pesky things.

  After a time, a lone figure appeared on the pathway, coaxing the donkey that pulled a too-big cart to diligent speed. With a strange reluctance, Telic watched as Ashkar toiled up the track. He waited until they were even with his men, then signaled for them to step out.

  “Well,” said the big man, coming to a halt. “So we meet again. I wondered how long it would take you.” He eyed the small group. “I see you brought reinforcements.”

  “I knew you would resist if I came alone.” Telic felt a sudden and unaccustomed sadness. He didn’t want to have to imprison Ashkar. He would spend a long time far from the light of day. That’s what they did to lawbreakers. He cleared his throat. “What do you have in the cart, Ashkar?”

  “See for yourself,” the other answered in a soft voice, resting a hand on the donkey’s head. Lines of disappointment and betrayal marked his gentle face.

  Telic gestured and one of the soldiers moved forward to lift the tarp. They found a generous load of fishing gear: nets, hooks, long-handled fishing spears, and sharp-bladed skinning knives. His eyes flicked to Ashkar. “Taking more supplies to the Luzz?”

  Ashkar remained silent, his head bowed as if already beaten.

  Telic picked up a knife and tested the blade. “Smuggling arms,” he sighed, resisting the urge to turn back and let his erstwhile friend go. There was
the law that must be upheld; the people to watch out for. “You will have to come with us, Ashkar. I am placing you under arrest.”

  “No.” Quicker than the eye could follow, Ashkar made a motion with one hand. Telic’s companions fell to the ground. They stayed there, unmoving.

  Telic drew a startled breath and dropped into a defensive crouch, sword in hand. “Stupid fools!” he cursed and his eyes fastened on Ashkar. Determination hardened his jaw. “So. You’ve learned to kill with your magic.” Murder would win him a life of imprisonment and slavery. Using magic to kill merited immediate death.

  Ashkar looked at Telic with bleak eyes. “They’re not dead. Just unconscious.”

  Telic laughed, wry and unamused. “Then your skills have improved.”

  Ashkar shrugged.

  “You know it won’t end here.” It infuriated him to find his voice shaking, even the smallest bit. He must stay in control. “I’ll come after you again.”

  “I know,” the big man nodded.

  “I won’t let you turn the Luzz against us.”

  “And I won’t let you turn them into slaves.”

  The depth of sadness in Ashkar’s eyes startled him though he couldn’t say why. It was exactly what he should have expected. Ashkar’s generous heart was his greatest weakness. “Well, are you going to use your magic on me, too?”

  Ashkar shook his head. “No. That wouldn’t be fair. But I won’t let you dog me, Telic. I have too much to do to waste my time worrying about you all the time.”

  Telic let a sardonic smile creep across his face. “Pray tell, then, what do you intend to do with me?”

  Ashkar’s glance flickered to the ground. “You and I would make a good team, Telic. There was a time when we were on the same team. We could be again.”

  “Aye,” Telic nodded. “If you would end your foolish venture and stand on the right side of the law.”

  “Which side is that? The political side? Or the moral side?” The two men eyed each other combatively. The path they’d shared as boys had diverged long ago. Finally, Ashkar spoke. “Will you join me?”

  “No. Will you join me?”

  “No.” Ashkar held his hand out in front of him. Light shimmered and danced. In a blurring of motion, a sword appeared in his hand. “I challenge you to a fair fight. Man to man. Sword to sword.”

  Telic laughed. “I’m to fight against a sword of magic? Your sense of equity is overwhelming.”

  “Not at all. You take this sword, and I’ll take yours.”

  “You’re serious? You want me to trust that you won’t use magic to save yourself?”

  “You’ve always trusted me before.”

  Telic regarded him with a wary expression, then nodded. “Very well.” He knew that Ashkar was as good as his word. If he didn’t use magic, then Telic had a better-than-average chance of beating him. He had made a career out of winning.

  The two exchanged swords and squared off. For a moment, they circled about, testing. They exchanged a few half-hearted blows, then Telic lifted his blade a fraction. “Nice,” he said, admiring the balance.

  “It is only a copy.”

  Telic nodded and stepped in. It had been a long time since they had skirmished this way. Now only one of them would live to walk away. It was too bad. Ashkar was a good man. Misguided, but good.

  He soon found out that Ashkar’s brawn more than made up for his own agility. One blow from the big man was enough to set his arm to tingling clear up to his shoulder. He struck. Ashkar parried. He struck again, and again Ashkar parried. He backed up, letting his opponent come after him. His movements were fluid and swift — experience was on his side. Time seemed to slow as the two surged backward and forward on the path. First Ashkar would bear the offensive, then Telic. For all his great size, the mage was quick, and his muscled arms bore blow after blow without tiring.

  Telic pressed his lips together in a tight line, drawing back a bit to catch his breath. Who would have thought that gentle Ashkar would prove so adept in the dance of the swords? He parried a blow to his head and another to his side, keeping just out of the reach of Ashkar’s blade. He felt more than saw the tree behind him and skipped to the right, tossing his sword into his left hand. Ashkar’s flicker of amusement provoked a grim, challenging smile. He had to admit, the sword of magic felt every bit as sturdy as his own. With the slightest shift, he took the offensive, driving Ashkar back across the uneven pathway. The wild grasses and brush beyond made for uncertain footing. The forest rang with the crashing and screaming of metal on metal.

  “You’ve improved since last we tested our blades.” His breath came hard.

  “Some,” Ashkar grunted. He backed in a semicircle until they had regained the pathway. Sweat ran freely down his face and neck, staining the front of his tunic.

  Doubt reared its ugly head. Could he slip his blade past the other’s guard? Exhaustion crippled him. He sidestepped and lunged. Ashkar twisted and with a heave, drove his sword beneath Telic’s and forced it up and over their heads. Telic spun away in the split second before he lost his grip, snarling in frustration. His arms throbbed and still Ashkar came on as if he possessed unlimited strength.

  “No magic, huh?” he ground out, parrying yet again and using the space gained to wipe the sweat from his eyes.

  “No magic.” Ashkar’s bear-like chest heaved.

  Telic began to feel as though the mage was toying with him. Every stroke, every motion he made, was met and used against him. Rage flickered within his chest like a coal about to burst into flame. He had to end this soon. He spun and ducked beneath Ashkar’s guard, driving his sword up wildly. A bright slash of blood appeared on Ashkar’s face, and then another on his arm.

  Ashkar's face twitched in pain, but still he kept coming.

  “Your talents are obviously wasted,” Telic grunted. “With the right teacher, you could be quite good.”

  “And with a change of heart you could be, too.”

  Too winded to laugh, Telic flipped his sword back to his right hand. The left felt leaden and he was glad for the reprieve.

  “I so wish this could end differently, my friend,” Ashkar said between blows.

  “Not as much as I do.”

  “Perhaps.” He pushed forward, each swing steady and measured. “It’s funny, you know.”

  “What?” Each breath stabbed at his ribs like a knife.

  “You and me. Best friends when we were little. Partners. Allies. Now look at us.” A heaving breath punctuated each sentence.

  “You can always switch sides.” Telic managed a huffing sort of chuckle and sliced away a piece of Ashkar’s tunic, taking skin with it.

  “No more than you can.”

  He grunted. Every swing of the sword made his arms feel longer, heavier. Surely his knuckles must scrape the ground soon. “Why all the talk?”

  “Just saying—goodbye—I’m sorry things have—turned out—this way—for us.”

  “So am I.” If he could only get past Ashkar's guard for a split second… He shifted and feinted.

  His opponent ignored the deception. With one last dreadful and precise thrust, Ashkar’s sword sank into Telic’s body. As the blade drove through flesh, he lifted one arm and knocked Telic’s weapon aside, heedless of the agony as it sliced along his forearm.

  Telic’s eyes opened wide in astonishment and he stood there for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity. Disbelief flooded through him, and then denial hard on its heels.

  Ashkar pulled the sword free and dropped it as Telic began to fall. With his bloodied hand, he caught him and held him against his own abused body. Gently, so gently, he sank to the ground with him, holding him close.

  Telic’s blood gurgled in his throat, staining lips and chin. He could feel the trickling warmth of it. As a soldier, it was not an unfamiliar sensation. This, though, would be the last time he ever felt it again. Such a strange knowledge to own… He thought he saw motion behind Ashkar’s broad shoulder and squinted to focus h
is vision. The ghosts should not be visible in daylight. He marshaled his alarm. He would deal with them in a moment. “Your—” He coughed, spat, and tried again. “Your Luzzil Ones have chosen—” He gagged and gave a feeble shake of his head. “—chosen a fitting champion. You—always—surprise me.”

  Ashkar nodded dumbly, tears mingling with the blood on his face. Blood everywhere: on his shirt, on his arm where he’d struck aside Telic’s blade, and on the sword that lay forgotten by his side.

  “Not going to scold—scold me?”

  “Too late for that now.” He bent his head to wipe tears away on his shoulder.

  “Yes.” Still surprised, he watched as Ashkar clenched his teeth and swallowed. “Be careful. Goodbye, my—friend.”

  “Goodbye, Telic, Ruan” the big man whispered.

  Telic smiled. What kind of man was Ashkar? Look at him. His enemy vanquished, and here he was, crying like a child…

  Tourist Trap

  “Come on. We’re almost there!” Ilyana cried out, laughing and tugging Damon’s hand.

  He let his companion pull him up the grassy slope, laughing and out of breath. Ilyana was beautiful, spirited... and she was his. Had it only been a fortnight since they’d met? The first time he’d seen her he’d been enchanted by the vibrant energy barely contained in her willowy frame. Her too-blue eyes—exotically wide and tipped up at their corners—held an intriguing fire. He couldn’t decide if it were real or his imagination. Wild auburn curls bobbed around her sharp features, her angular face softened by lips that begged to be kissed.

  And kiss them he had...

  The wind from the sea whipped her pretty blue dress and molded it against her figure, refusing to let him forget the passion she’d ignited in him. As they crested the hill, he marveled at the events of the last fourteen days. Twining his fingers through hers, he pulled her close to steal a kiss.

  She responded with an eagerness that had him wishing they hadn’t left the inn. Why hadn’t he come to her little town a long time ago? Fates, but it had been a long time since a woman had stirred him so! Too soon, she wriggled free of his embrace and pulled on his hand, turning him around.