Maksym Pachesiuk
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Warlock's Last Exam - Chapter 11
🕑 Added 2025-01-10 16:09:38 +0000 UTCKnuckles agreed. What choice did he have? The girls were still glaring at me like wolves, but Grandfather used to say that life was worth exactly as much as people were willing to pay for it. And Knuckles needed this price just as much as I did.
“Perfect,” I nodded. “Keep in mind, I don’t forgive betrayal. And as for hunting... well, you’ll see for yourself. Let’s not stand out here like fools. Let’s head inside, make some tea. We’ve got a lot to discuss. Don’t get fidgety!” I snapped at Knuckles as he opened his mouth to speak. “We’ve got time until sunset.”
I asked Finella to take care of the tea, and told Ellie to call old Lady Wilcox to arrange renting the house for the next month. While the girls were busy, I questioned Knuckles about the Hunchback’s base and the girls about their abilities. Naturally, they didn’t tell me everything, but Finella did mention she was skilled with fire. She preferred ordinary fireballs but could also unleash a concentrated beam. Her fire shields worked well against magical attacks but were somewhat weak against physical ones. A heavy pistol round could break through them about half the time. Ellie, like any shifter, had enhanced regeneration, excellent hearing, and quick reflexes. Her spirit wasn’t a goat, as I had initially thought, but a roe deer, which gave her incredible speed over short distances and the ability to leap a four-meter fence without a running start. Her kicks were lethal.
Knuckles couldn’t boast of such skills, but he was a decent fighter for back-alley brawls.
Once the tea was poured into cups, Ellie handed me a few sheets of paper and a pencil, while Knuckles helped draw a map of the neighborhood.
“First of all, we need to think about escape routes.”
“We could use the basements – they’re all interconnected,” Knuckles suggested.
“That’s an option, but I wasn’t talking about that. I mean injuries, wounds. We’ll need transport.”
“A horse and carriage?”
“Horses are afraid of me, and they might panic at the beast. What about your buddy… Talbot? His cab might do.”
“He won’t agree.”
“Who’s asking him? Although… do you think I should talk to him?”
“Yes!”
“Fine, we’ll handle that right after the planning. Is the cage big? Will I fit inside?”
“It’ll be tight. It’s one of those hanging cages they used to put on poles. Looks more like a birdcage.”
“That’s no good. We need a larger cage. Any ideas where to get one?”
I asked more out of habit than expectation. Locking myself in a cage as bait was too risky. The mark – damn it – could ruin the whole plan. Who knows what kind of beast it was and how sensitive it was to etheric traces?
“The zoo?” Ellie unexpectedly suggested.
“As if they’d just lend it to you,” Finella snorted.
“We could buy one…” I mused, calculating how much time and money it would take, including transport costs. “No, too conspicuous.”
I turned back to the sketch. The building surrounding the courtyard with the cage was shaped like a “U,” similar to the alley where Knuckles and his gang had tried to corner me.
“Draw the roads and the neighboring buildings,” I asked.
Knuckles quickly scratched out some crooked lines and squares. I picked the one across the street from the house and asked:
“What’s this?”
“A three-story box, like everything else around here.”
“I take it everyone will be hiding in their homes like mice tonight?”
“Yes,” Knuckles nodded.
“Finella, can you extinguish fire?”
“More like suppress it,” she replied.
I checked my watch. Half past five. And so much still to do…
“Listen carefully, girls. Buy about three liters – no, a liter and a half – of kerosene and pour it into bottles, then change into something fit for the slums. Fin, hide your hair. Wait for Knuckles and me here. Oh, and some healing potions wouldn’t hurt, but only if possible. Knuckles, can you buy a rifle and rounds at the ‘Commode’? I need a good one!”
“The f… if I know… I mean, I don’t know. Nothing good in ‘Commode.’ If it’s something like ‘death arrows’ or specialty rounds... There are a few places, but the prices there… Whew! They might not even let me in.”
“Nothing illegal. A standard military Enfield will do. A shortened barrel is fine, as long as it shoots straight. Keep in mind, I’ve only got two hundred on me.”
“Then why the hell are you asking me? If it’s nothing illegal, just walk into any weapons shop.”
“Not just any, I need a reliable one.”
“Not my thing. In Pubset, there’s ‘The Royal Stag,’ ‘Thunder Bear,’ and something like ‘Powder Some-sort-of-shit.’ I haven’t been to any of them, though.”
“Ellie, be a dear and call us a cab.”
The name “Thunder Bear” caught my attention. With minimal information and limited time, it seemed as good a choice as any. Turns out, I wasn’t wrong.
The weapons shop was spacious, with the latest, including automatic, long-barreled models mounted on the walls. Under glass on the shelves lay an assortment of pistols and blades. The cheapest SMLE Mk2, with rifling still intact, cost me a tenner. After that, the salesman tried to sell me a branded “Thunder” bullet, but it turned out to be carved from ivory. Sure, it looked impressive, but a true Thunder bullet is carved from Thunderbone.
I had a few pistol rounds made of the real thing in my satchel, so I pulled one out for comparison. That’s when things escalated. I raised my voice, called for the owner, and caused a bit of a scene. To my surprise, the owner actually showed up – a gray-haired man with thick white mustaches who had been working in the repair shop attached to the store. He apologized for the fake bullet and, in an attempt to smooth things over, tried to give it to me as a gesture of goodwill. I wasn’t having it. I told him I’d only take a real one, and that’s where he dug his heels in. In the end, I had to cough up an extra ten for the genuine round.
Now I had a bullet imbued with the powerful paralyzing essence of lightning. A shot to the chest with this would kill instantly, though I wasn’t planning to kill outright.
A few more pounds bought me a holster, a box of basic cartridges, two coils of sturdy rope, and a pair of thick leather gloves.
The next task was tracking down Talbot.
It turned out this weasel had a legitimate job as a porter at the docks, where he’d honed his skill for reading people and sharpened his nose for profit. But, like any respectable scoundrel, he didn’t foul his own nest. Time was running short, so I slipped on my signet ring, turning the seal to the inside.
We found Talbot resting under one of the columns in the central hall. We carefully flanked him, which was the right move because the bastard’s first instinct, as soon as he saw me, was to run. I frowned, pulling back my coat to reveal the pistol holstered at my side.
“Don’t even think about it, Johnny,” Knuckles hissed menacingly.
“You got a lot of nerve, punk.”
“Enough,” I ordered. “We don’t have time to convince you. Apologies in advance. Knuckles.”
The boy smirked and, with a short swing, drove his lead-weighted fist into the porter’s ribs.
“B-bastards,” Talbot wheezed, collapsing to his knees. “I’ll kill you brats.”
“I need a vehicle and a driver for the night,” I said. “After that, we’re even. Or, we can have Clint beat you to a pulp first, then head to the police and tell them how you’ve been forcing starving homeless folks to rob travelers. Your choice.”
“Fuck you bastards!”
“Knuckles,” I prompted.
The next punch sent the porter sprawling onto the floor.
This didn’t go unnoticed by the port police. One officer called out to his partner, and they both started heading towards us.
“Put away the knuckles and don’t move,” I told Clint, then turned the signet ring outward to display the crest. “And here come the noble guardians of order. Your choice, Talbot. With this situation, you won’t just lose your job.”
“Fine!” he barked.
“Gentlemen,” I greeted the approaching officers, making sure they noticed the ring. “Apologies for this minor incident. The porter was careless with a fragile package, and it upset me.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to hit people!” one officer declared boldly.
“Do you think it would’ve been better for me to file a complaint and get him fired?”
“Boy?” the constable addressed the porter.
“It’s fine, guys. Really, no big deal…” Talbot got to his feet and dusted himself off.
The conflict was resolved. John took the rest of the day off, and we went to the pier to test the rifle. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore muffled the shots perfectly, and I finished before the golden hour, using that time to fetch the girls. I left the rest of my money – except for some small change – at Finella’s house. They’d already tried to rob me in the slums once before.
With the last rays of sunlight, we arrived in the slums.
I couldn’t figure out why this district was so run-down compared to the overall wealth of Farnell. It wasn’t even that the buildings were particularly old. As it turned out, before the Big War, this area was home to dock workers and craftsmen. But in ’15, a fierce battle took place here. The enemy had used a caustic gas that dissolved lungs. Supposedly, wizards and healers had dealt with the aftermath, but every cough and sneeze here was still blamed on that poison. Only those with no other choice agreed to live here.
I spent some of my pocket cash to rent a room on the third floor of a building across from the courtyard with the cage. That’s where I stationed a noticeably shaken Talbot and Knuckles, whose role was to keep an eye on him. The car was left parked directly below.
Naturally, there were people who decided to try their luck stealing such a valuable vehicle. After all, it wasn’t that late yet. We were fortunate – they turned out to be members of the Hunchback’s gang. The girls were still downstairs and were the first to confront the audacious thieves. Finella didn’t feel like “lighting things up” and instead let Ellie stomp her hoof. The pair folded immediately, but by the time I came down, they had already crawled away.
“Well, ladies, shall we have some fun?” I asked. “Ellie, flash your eyes when I say so. Finella, light a flame just enough for the Hunchback to see it. Make sure he sees it, and then snuff it out. Stay one step behind me and let me do the talking. I think I’ve figured out how to handle this lot.”
Our trio walked straight up to the central door of the building. I knocked.
The door was opened by a skinny, hedgehog-haired guy who looked like a smaller version of Knuckles. This one was a bit shorter and had lost one of his front teeth somewhere along the way.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Certainly not you, my good man. Call the Hunchback.”
“What, you think the Hunchback’s some errand girl? If you want him, you go to him yourself.”
“Then lead the way, or am I supposed to search the whole house myself?”
“Don’t get lost, then!” the young thug sneered, darting inside the stairwell.
As I stepped in, he had already dashed up the creaking stairs to the next landing.
The interior of the building looked even worse than its exterior. The plaster had peeled off the walls decades ago. The wooden floors and beams were rotting. Some steps on the staircase were missing, and the ones that remained didn’t inspire much confidence.
“Are you sure you’ve figured it out?” Finella teased.
“I’m starting to doubt it.”
By the time we reached the second floor, our guide had sprinted down the hallway and disappeared behind one of many doors.
The lighting here came exclusively from the surprisingly intact windows at either end of the corridor. The density of door frames gave the impression of a beehive – an abandoned one. My vision allowed me to pick out the most dangerous spots where the floorboards had rotted or dried out.
“Step where I step,” I told the girls. “Any guesses where they are? Ellie, can you tell?”
“I can’t hear anything,” Ellie replied.
“Gentlemen!” I shouted. “Don’t waste my time.”
One of the doors ahead opened.
“Lost your way, eh? Heh-heh,” the gap-toothed guide jeered and immediately ducked back inside.
“Follow my steps,” I reminded the girls, sidestepping the worst spots on the floor.
Behind the door was a tiny, narrow room, but the adjacent wall – made of thin wooden planks and plaster – had been completely smashed through, forming a spacious passage into the neighboring room.
There, lounging in a decent old armchair, was the Hunchback. Judging by his appearance, he could have been anywhere from twenty to thirty years old. His stern, and at times, almost attractive face was clean-shaven, his clothes neat, but the hump over his right shoulder ruined the impression. His right arm was significantly thicker than his left, the fist nearly one and a half times larger, and the old revolver in his hand looked like a toy.
Of course, he had minions. Four of them, to be exact, armed with rusty cleavers and bats. They were significantly younger – somewhere between fourteen and sixteen years old.
Judging by the thick, uneven layer of fine debris on the floor and the smell of dust in the air, the wall had been broken recently. Notably, in our room, someone had thoughtfully spread an old carpet over the dust, but the tracks leading into the neighboring room stuck close to the wall. As trappers, these bandits were hopeless amateurs.
I stopped just short of the carpet, leaving room for the girls to stand behind me.
“Esteemed… scumbags,” I said. “Allow me to introduce Lady Ellie…”
I didn’t see her flash her eyes, but I did notice how the bandits flinched.
“And Lady Finella…”
This time, the reaction was even more dramatic.
“Now then,” I continued, drawing my pistol and cocking the hammer. “Should I take this step forward?”
The Hunchback paled and aimed his revolver at me, but said nothing. His minions fidgeted, casting nervous glances at their leader.
“Seriously?” I asked. “I’m wearing a Stone Skin ring. If you don’t lower your gun, I’ll shoot.”
“Bullshit! I’ve got one too!”
The Hunchback proudly displayed the ring on his right hand, his revolver's barrel tilting upward to show it off. I drew my gun and fired, quick and precise, just as I had done countless times at the target range. Thanks, Grandpa. You were right – It came in handy.
My bullet struck his revolver. The weapon discharged as it flew out of his hand. The enemy’s bullet lodged itself in the wall above us, while his revolver bounced off and smacked one of the boys square in the forehead.
“Freeze!” I said calmly.
The Hunchback clutched his right hand with his left, stunned. His ring hadn’t helped. Or rather, judging by the red streak on his cheek, it had helped – but just barely. Who knows how… Did my bullet ricocheted off the revolver?
It meant he was still under the ring’s protection, but the shock left him unable to use it.
Slowly, I holstered my pistol and motioned for the bandit to approach with my finger.
“Come here. Come on, don’t be afraid.”
The Hunchback obediently rose to his feet. He took a few hesitant steps forward and froze at the edge of the carpet.
“Don’t stop now,” I encouraged him. He took a step sideways.
“Straight!” I ordered.
The Hunchback muttered a curse under his breath and stepped forward quickly.
Under his weight, the carpet suddenly puffed up, folding around him to the point where it swallowed him whole before his body completely fell through the hidden hole beneath.
Only his unnaturally strong right hand flashed above for a moment, trying to grab onto the wooden planks. His nails scraped uselessly against the old wood before slipping off.
I approached the edge and looked down at the bandit sprawled awkwardly on the carpet below.
“Do not dig a pit for someone else… Ever heard that saying?” I asked.
The Hunchback didn’t answer, but that was fine by me. He turned his head toward my voice, and that was enough.
“Here’s what we’re going to do next,” I said. “You’re going to hand over Nathan Sparrow to me, and you’re going to give the ladies a room on the third floor of either the right or left wing of the building, closer to the street.”
“I only control the central wing,” the Hunchback muttered.
“I don’t care,” I said. “You’ve got five minutes, and then I’ll get offended. I’ll be waiting outside.” I stood up and glanced at the Hunchback’s terrified minions. “Toss me that piece of junk,” I told the gap-toothed kid, pointing at the revolver.
He obeyed, though he picked it up with two fingers, as if it were the corpse of a venomous snake.
The girls and I stepped outside.
“You know,” Finella said, “you really pulled it off.”
Nathan was brought out two minutes later. He immediately ran to hug Ellie but kept glancing at me with apprehension.
“That’s enough,” I said, cutting the touching reunion short. “Time’s up.”
“Nathan, listen to Magnus. It’s important!”
Magnus? Oh, right, I’d introduced myself using my middle name. Fine. If this works, maybe I’ll start using my first name again.
“Come on, kid,” I ordered. “I’ll take you to your brother. Just don’t run off.”
“Go,” Ellie instructed him.
“Here.” I shoved the revolver into the boy’s hands to calm his nerves.
While we talked, the Hunchback’s minions dragged another homeless kid out into the street and locked him in the cage. Cap turned pale, the girls tensed, and the boy started to raise the revolver.
“Don’t even think about it,” I hissed. “It’s not time yet.”
I won’t lie – I wasn’t entirely emotionless myself. I’d have loved to crack a few heads, but I kept my composure and, in doing so, tested the girls. Even soft-hearted Ellie managed to hold herself back from doing anything rash.
The unfamiliar kid screamed, sobbed, struggled, and even bit, but none of it helped. The thugs shoved him into the cage and locked it with a large padlock. They placed the key on a wooden tray about two meters away, closer to the building entrance.
I glanced up at the window of the rented room.
The cage was positioned with its door facing the building entrance and secured to the old asphalt with metal stakes. This blocked the view of the tray from the window. I couldn’t turn the cage around to position the lock toward the window, but I could move the tray.
“Ellie, grab the key and try to open the cage. Make a scene,” I instructed, pulling out one of the paired vials from my pouch.
Ellie must have misunderstood me because she genuinely started trying to unlock the cage, and I nearly had to wrestle the key away from her.
“Cap, bring me the tray,” I said.
While everyone was watching the boy, I discreetly uncorked the vials and dripped a bit of two-component adhesive onto the key’s head. I placed the tray between the cage and the right wing of the building, securing myself a good vantage point.
The girls moved to their new position, while I returned to the room in the building across the street.
I pulled out my dagger and carefully removed the slats holding the largest pane in the window frame. Missing glass was less suspicious than an open window. Even so, I didn’t close mine completely, just enough to leave it ajar.
I set a table in the middle of the room and tied one end of the rope to its leg. On top of the table, I set up a firing position, loaded the SMLE with a Thunder bullet, and smeared the ointment across my third eye. I slipped on a thick leather glove over my left hand.
After half an hour of staring into the darkness, even my eyes were struggling to distinguish shapes. I had to mix a night vision potion with a drop of prolonger. This slightly weakened the original potion’s effect but extended its duration. The lower intensity didn’t matter much to me.
A few minutes later, a figure emerged from the shadows near the wall. A man.
My hand moved to touch the dagger, but it remained silent. A shame.
The stranger moved slowly around the courtyard, approaching the tray but still staying out of sight of the captive.
Absolutely silent, he darted toward the tray, lowered his hand, and his fingers brushed the key. But the adhesive held it firmly to the wood. The tray shifted slightly and scraped against the asphalt. The shadow froze in surprise, and I pulled the trigger.
In the small room, the gunshot roared like a cannon blast. The enchanted bullet sliced through the darkness in a bright flash of lightning and struck the stranger’s leg, erupting in a shower of blue sparks. The electric discharge arched the shadowy figure’s body violently.
I leapt over the table and kicked the window frame with my foot. A bit too hard. Even though the window was already open, the frame was sent flying out into the street.
Still gripping the rifle in my right hand, I grabbed the rope with my left and swung out through the window. The leather glove screeched from the friction as I slid swiftly to the ground.
From the third-floor window of the right wing of the building across the street, three bottles of kerosene flew out in quick succession, shattering on the asphalt below.
I ran, leaping over the spreading kerosene puddles just in time to avoid the fireball that crashed down from above, igniting them in a blaze of hot flames.
In the flickering glow of the fire, the vampire bared its fangs at me.
