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Chapter Twenty-Four

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“You have all that, so far?” Krek glanced across the table at Magpie.

“I think so.” Magpie tapped her gryphon feather quill against a blotting pad. She scanned over a list of names and other information, freshly added to a small, leather-bound book. “I’ll let you double check it in a bit, just to be sure.”

“Good.” The gryphon turned his attention to Geppert, working in a separate book. “And you?”

“So far, so good.” The immense man wrote something down, then paused to sip his whiskey. “You know, Mags, this is gonna be almost all our birds.”

Magpie pursed her lips. “I know. But preferred customers get preferred treatment. Everyone else is just going to have to wait.” She looked up, gazing back at Krek. “You realize, of course, that if any of my birds don’t make it home, I’m going to hold you responsible.”

Krek waved his paw. “Yes, yes, I’ll buy you new ravens.”

Magpie rolled her eyes. “Will you spend years training them, too?”

The gryphon clicked his beak in thought. “If I’m not dead, or in busy enacting terrible vengeance, then sure, why not. Kathlyn and I can train them in our free time.”

Magpie chuckled to herself, scribbling down another name in her book. “If that won’t coax her away from the throne, nothing will.” She lifted her voice, emulating a warbling bird. “Gee, your majesty, wouldn’t you rather clean up bird shit in a musty old sunroom than sit on that gilded throne?”

Krek glared at her, his silvery crown feathers raised. “Our sunroom will not be musty.”

“Although,” Geppert said, scratching at his chin. “It is gonna have bird shit everywhere.” A smirk tugged at his lips. “Doubly so if you’re training ravens in there.”

Krek hissed, lashing his tufted tail against the lounger. “Hilarious, Geppert. Utterly hilarious.” He plucked up his drinking bowl, and drained the last of it into his beak. The gryphon set the bowl down, sighing in satisfaction. “We are going to need of this, you know.”

Geppert arched a brow. “That’s our second bottle gone, already. Not to mention the rum.”

“I fail to see how that’s my problem.” Krek’s tail thumped the lounger again. “If you invite a gryphon to partake with you, you’re expected to provide him with adequate drink.”

Magpie smiled at her lover. “He has a point, Geppert. If you didn’t want to have to fetch additional bottles, you should have stashed more in here to begin with.”

Geppert ran a hand through short-cropped black hair. “Guess I didn’t expect him to wanna get drunk, drunk.”

“I am not drunk.” Krek rustled his wings, shifting his weight atop the lounger. “Far from it. I’d need at least a good few bottles to myself, for that.”

“You’ve had a few bottles to yourself.” Geppert laughed, then threw back the last of his whiskey. He thumped his cup down. “I’ll get more.”

“See that you do,” Krek said, chirruping up. He offered the big human an open beaked smile, his ears up. “Thank you, Geppert.”

As Geppert rose up to fetch more liquor, Krek surveyed the table. A trio of empty, wax capped bottles were already clustered at one end. Despite’s Geppert’s pointed jibes, Krek’s human friends had certainly indulged in their fair share of both rum and whiskey. It was true enough that the gryphon had done more to empty the three bottles than they had, but it was also true he was many times their size. Krek had made a point to not allow himself to become too inebriated, because he still had important work to do, and delicate devices to interact with.

Krek turned his attention to the progress they’d made thus far. The three lockboxes from his vaults were now positioned at even intervals across the table. The first box was open, its contents mostly distributed around it. The other two remained shut, though Krek would have to open them eventually, if only to lay preparations for all potential eventualities. Magpie and Geppert each had a variety of journals and writing implements strewn about, taking down information and instructions from the gryphon.

When first opened, the initial safe revealed only an tightly packed array of secure puzzle boxes, like vaults within vaults. They each shared a black and white checkered pattern, but that was where their similarities ended. Some were spherical, others rectangular, cube shaped, or even triangular. Each had its own puzzle to solve, to access its contents. Some could be twisted, others had hidden levers and switches, or buttons to press, or rows of painted numbers to align. Krek had packed them all so carefully that they completely filled the metal vault, looking almost like a chess board until the first one was removed. And even that process was but another layer of security for the gryphon’s secrets. For some of the puzzles were in fact trapped decoys. One might release a toxic powder, while another deployed poisoned needles. By removing them in a specific order, it became possible to gasp the decoys by their safe panels. For the safety of Magpie and Geppert, Krek had returned the decoys to the box for now. 

Many of the containers were long since opened, their contents further divided up into several places across the table. Some of them simple and self-explanatory. There were pouches of gold and platinum coins, from Illandra and beyond. Others held samples of rare ores and alloys, or fistfuls of cut gemstones, and other exceedingly valuable materials. Several were carefully packed with a variety of high purity ghost stones, primal swirling inside them like wayward spirits. Some held more dangerous substances, poisons and toxins from far beyond Illandra’s borders.

The gryphon reached out and delicately plucked a crystalline vial. A grayish powder filled it. Wax capped its stopper firmly in place. He passed it across the table to Magpie. “Here. Add this to the package for Delivery Seven Four Two.”

Magie took it, and held it up to a lamp. “What is that, blue cap?”

Krek shook his head. “No. The Wind and her brood are all long since immunized to blue cap.” He clicked his beak. “It’ll slow them down, make them ill, but by the time it’s even kicked in, you’ve long since been eviscerated, or incinerated. Probably both.”

Magpie pursed her lips. “So this is even stronger?”

The gryphon shrugged his wings. “The toxicity is relatively the same, give or take a few seconds of neurological and pulmonary collapse.”

Magpie gave him a blank look. “Do what now?”

“Your nerves fail, and your lungs stop working.” Krek isolated another vial, containing the powdered essence of the highly toxic blue cap mushroom. “They both kill you, but in slightly different ways. This one…” He tapped the vial with a single finger pad. “With careful, low dose exposure, it’s possible for the body to build an immunity against. Illandra used it extensively in their conquest of Aran’alia, and the other provinces. The nobles running things out there now still have it in there head that all it takes to fell a dragon is enough blue cap. And I’m certainly not inclined to tell them there’s not a dragon who serves the Wind who hasn’t already been immunized to it. That, however…” He inclined his beak towards the vial Magpie held. “They’ve never dealt with.”

Magpie scowled at it. “What is it?”

Krek shifted himself, separating out a few more vials. “I call it, the Gray Hollow.”

“I have a feeling I don’t want to know what it’s called that.” She carefully set the vial down. “Where’d you get it?”

“A long way from here.” The gryphon grunted, looking away. “Honestly, Magpie, even you wouldn’t know the place if I named it.”

Magpie folded her arms, staring at him. “You know, I’ve been over the sea, too. That’s where it comes from, I’m guessing? Across the sea?”

Krek merely shrugged his wings.

“Across two seas?” Magpie leaned forward, her brows raised. “The far, far continent?”

A smirk left the gryphon’s beak half-parted, his ears splayed. “Sure, Magpie. Something like that. Let’s just say, I can assure you the Wind has never been exposed to the Gray Hollow, before. Let alone immunized to it.”

Magpie gave a low whistle. “Alright, if it’s that far way, you’re right. I probably haven’t heard of it. So what do you expect Seven Four Two to do with it? Assassinate The Wind?”

Krek squawked, a sound of feigned indignation. He pressed a paw to his chest, just above the scar over his heart. “Magpie! This is my beloved’s mother, you’re talking about. I would not have her assassinated!” He slowly set his paw back down, his grin returning. “Not with what’s in the first box, anyway.” Krek gestured with a wing towards the third lockbox. “That’s the box for assassinations and revenge, remember?”

Magpie chuckled, picking up her quill once more. She added a note about the vial to her journal. “I thought that was just for black-hearted revenge? Now you’re adding assassinations, too?”

“You said it, not me.” Krek shrugged his wings. “Besides, black-hearted revenge sometimes calls for an assassination or two.” He lifted his head, still grinning. “If you must know, most of my assassination materials are in a different vault.”

Magpie cast a glance at the vial again. “So why are you sending that to her?”

“Self-defense.” Krek shifted his weight, letting a hind paw hang off the lounger. He stretched his toes. “If worst comes to worse, it’ll be her only option. Honestly…” Krek picked up another vial, gazing at the gray powder. “I’m not sure a single vial is enough. But it’s all I can spare her. If she can make proper use of it, it ought to incapacitate The Wind for a while, at least.”

Magpie scribbled something else down. “You never know. Maybe she’ll get the full dose and die then, and there. Problem solved.”

Krek flattened his ears, his stomach sinking. How, he thought, had it ever come to this? The last thing he ever wanted to have to do was harm Kylaryn. How many years had she treated him like her own son? How many joyful days had spent, laughing with Valar, his siblings, and his mother? She had taken him in, and treated him like family. She had sheltered him, protected him, taught him to fight like a dragon…and in the end, she’d even given him her blessing to call Valar his mate. And then their lives diverged, and instead, he fell in love with the living symbol of Kylaryn’s mortal enemy.

The last time he saw her, she had proven she would not hesitate to harm him, if that was what it took to achieve her life-long goals. Krek could not blame her in the slightest. He understood that mindset all too well. Krek, after all, felt exactly the same way. He had loved Kylaryn like his own mother, once, but if it came down to her life, or Kathlyn’s, Krek would forever still The Wind without hesitation.

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.” Krek swallowed back his worries, holding out his paw. “Let me see what you’ve got so far.”

Magpie passed him her journal. Krek took it and turned it round, scanning over everything she’d been scribbling down. He carefully paged back to the beginning. Already they’d covered a number of pages. On it, were a list of names, locations, coded phrased, and instructions for a variety of deliveries.

Many of the containers in the lockbox were filled with nothing more than tiny, rolled up encrypted messages, along with smattering of information about who they were for, or where they were going. Krek had studiously prepared each of them over the years, in preparation for a great variety of eventualities. Most were in the form of tiny scrolls. Others were kept in vials, or little locked cases. Some bore one of the gryphon’s sigils, often a single black feather. Others held a code name, while yet more had no identifying information at all.

“I don’t suppose I even dare ask what all those messages…” Magpie chuckled. “Even are?”

“They’re all a little different.” Krek selected one at random, glancing at its contents. “This one is coded instructions, to an Illandra sleeper agent.” He set it back down. “As are many of them.” The gryphon selected a tiny vial with an equally tiny scroll in it. “And this one calls in a favor, from an old contact who owes me their life.” The gryphon swapped it for one that held his black feather sigil in wax. “And this one calls in a binding contract on an old enemy of mine, promising to bury our animosity and release him from said contract, in return for his cooperation.” Krek tapped a miniature locked case. “This contains a document freeing someone from a prison cell.”

Magpie folded her arms, glancing at the other two lockboxes. “Let me guess. Those have more?”

“They certainly do.” Krek waved his paw at them. “While they’re separated out in terms of what I had planned for each recipient, I’m going to be activating most of them now, just in case.” He tapped the first, mostly emptied box. “For one, I need all the help I can get to protect the Queen. For two…” He gestured at the second box. “We’ve already begun to feed the wolves, and so I must set more of my pawns in motion.” The gryphon gave a happy warble. “Some of those messages are going to make some very important people outside Illandra very happy. And they’re going to make other people very unhappy.”

“So…” Magpie arched a brow. “You gonna tell me about this ‘feed the wolves’ thing, or not?”

Krek shook his head, lifting his crown feathers. “Afraid not. At least, not in detail. I can tell you it is a large scale, provincial and border-related military operation. But not the sort you might think. The only people privy to its true meaning are the Queen, the Prince, Illandra’s highest ranking generals, and myself. The surviving generals and their various armies will do most of the heavy lifting, but the game board still has several precariously placed pieces.” Krek tapped the second box. “Some of the messages in here are designed to push them off a cliff.”

Magpie snorted, scowling at the gryphon. “Are you mixing in random metaphors just to confuse me, Starling?”

Krek squawked, putting a paw over his chest. “Me? Never.” Then he chirped birdsong laughter, waving his paw across his lockboxes. “Taking every message and instruction here into account, you could say they’re the web my life’s work has been weaving. They feature the collected wealth of knowledge and connections, favors and secrets, and of blackmail and extortion built by countless decades of diplomacy and spycraft.” Krek draw himself up, his ears flattened back. “Kylaryn thinks herself the only one with a secret army, working in the shadows. Well…” Krek brushed a paw across several of the scrolls, waiting to be delivered. “I’m about to have an army, too.”

Magpie rubbed her chin. “Geppert’s right, then. We are gonna run out of birds.”

The Vault’s were not the only service Magpie offered. True to her name, Magpie owned several immense flocks of highly-trained messenger birds. Many of them were ravens, including those roosting in the tree out front. But she also kept magpies, doves, pigeons, starlings, a variety of large birds and prey, and more. Some of her employees in the surrounding block were kept on just to tend all her birds. She operated a vast network messaging routes flown by her birds, interlocked with a secondary network of couriers and delivery workers. There were few places she could not reach in secret, one way or another. That was part of the reason Krek had chosen her vaults for his various encrypted instructions. Magpie stood the highest chance of getting the largest number of them successfully delivered. Not that he didn’t have redundant back ups elsewhere, just in case.

“I suggest you send them in waves.” Krek drummed his fingers against the table. “Send the first set out as soon as possible. When the birds return, send out the next set, and so on. The order in which I’ve given them to you should suffice.” He gestured at the journals she and Geppert had been writing in. Krek had given them contact information and a number for every individual message. In some cases, he was sending along more than just a message, such as the Gray Hollow vial. “Just try not to tarry too long between waves. And maximum security protocols at all times, please. I’ve already anticipated that a certain percentage of them may be intercepted, and that’s fine. Everything is in code, anyway.” He held a paw up. “And yes, I was serious about paying for replacement birds and their training, as required.”

Magpie grimaced. “You’d better be. You may as well open the other boxes and start separating out all the other deliveries, too. While they may equate to different things in your head, in mine it’s all the same operation.” She tapped her journal. “I need to record all the delivery information together, after all.”

“A fair point.” Krek carefully moved things aside, making sure to keep them in the proper order. “Help me make room, then.”

Magpie stood up, and took the empty bottles away. She set them against the wall, then helped the gryphon move the first box and its contents to the side of the table. Once that was done, she picked the second lockbox, and set it in front of Krek. Krek gave her the code phrase to unlock it, and she produced a hidden set of keys. Magpie opened the locks, undid the clasps, and then stepped back to allow the gryphon to open the safe.

Krek pulled the lid open, revealing only another safe, scarcely any smaller than the vault which contained it. It’s silvery-hued metal was forged of the same lightweight, yet highly durable alloy as Krek’s armor. Several dials, switches, buttons, and numerical wheels marked its top and front at evenly spaced intervals. Magpie turned away, and Krek swiftly turned the dials and wheels, selected numbers, and flicked the switches to the proper positions. The buttons were all trapped decoys. When everything was in the right position, a loud click signaled the safe was unlocked.

Inside the safe were yet more various puzzle-locked containers. These also shared a color scheme, all marked in shades of blue and gray. Krek quickly emptied most of them out of the box, removing them in the proper by memory alone. As in the first lockbox, several of them were decoys. In addition to all the containers, there were also a few scroll cases, documents, more pouches with money and jewels, unusual coins, and more. When everything Magpie would need was unpacked, he hurried to free the next batch of messages from their ornate confinement.

“More puzzles?” Magpie shook her head after she turned around, chuckling. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Can’t be too careful.” The gryphon worked through them all in quick succession, even as the repetitive motions eventually left his paws aching. “Do you want to start cataloguing these before Geppert is back, or shall we await his return?”

“He should be back any moment.” Magpie’s eyes settled on the last vault. “If there’s messages you need to send out of your black heart over there, may as well open it too.”

Krek stilled. His gaze slowly shifted to the third box. Just the idea of opening left his heart thudding in his chest, his belly knotted. There were things in there he didn’t even want to see, people he never wanted to contact, let alone to call upon. Still, with any luck, he’d never have to. But there were messages that needed to be sent, contacts to alert, dreamers to wake, and so on.

“Very well. Go ahead and unlock it while I finish up here.” Krek clicked his beak, returning his attention to his work. “The code phrase for that one is Storyteller.”

Magpie checked her notebook, then nodded. “Storyteller. Confirmed. Unlocking.”

As Krek continued to prepare items to be catalogued and delivered, Magpie unlocked the final vault with her hidden keys. Inside was another silvery-alloy safe, identical to the last. This time, Krek gave Magpie the instructions to open it, courtesy be damned. A time might yet come when she would have open it again without him, anyway. She flicked switches and turned dials to Krek’s specifications, and soon the safe clicked open.

Magpie slowly opened it, sucking in a breath. “What the hell?”

Inside the safe was yet another strongbox. This one, however, was strikingly different. It was black as the richest ink, reflecting nothing. Gazing upon it was like looking into the purest obsidian, in the darkness of a night with neither moon, nor stars. Images of human hands were inscribed upon it, holding a great book. Within the book were etched two rings, one within the other, one rough, the other smooth.

“Trace a finger leftwards on the outer ring.” Krek glanced over at her, demonstrating with a paw. “Then rightwards on the inner ring. Then trace the first, and third fingers of the right hand. Do not touch the left hand, nor the book’s edges.”

Magpie scowled, following his instructions ever so cautiously. “What happens if I touch the left hand? Will it kill me?”

Krek shrugged his wings. “Not just you.”

Magpie’s frown deepened. She moved her finger slowly, and carefully. “I find it extremely disconcerting that I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

“Just remember the instructions.” Krek packed emptied puzzle-boxes back into the second vault.

Magpie followed his guidance to a tee. When completed, there was a hissing noise, and a nearly invisible seam around the box parted. “Now what?”

“Now you may remove the top.” Krek gently brushed a paw against her arm to make sure he had her attention. “Do not attempt to remove the box from within the safe. Only the top. If you need to move it before you’ve sealed it again, move it by the outer vault.”

Magpie hesitated, turning towards the gryphon. “Krek, just manner of traps have you installed in my vaults?”

The gryphon rumbled, low and ominous. “The traps are the least of your concerns, with that one.”

Magpie glared at him, crossing her arms. “Just what the hell is this thing?”

“Something I probably shouldn’t have, honestly.” Krek waved his paw at it. “Do you want me to open it?”

“Nah.” Magpie turned back towards the box. “This feels like one of those things I might brag about, someday.” She shifted her voice. “Hey, you remember Krek? Did you know I got to open his doom box one evening?”

“Who’s got a doom box?” Geppert finally returned, carrying three more bottles in his arms.

“Krek does.” Magpie waved at it. “Or at least, that’s what I’m calling this thing, now.”

Geppert set his liquor down on the table. He stared down at the ebony strongbox, then looked up at Krek. “I’m gone for five minutes, and you’ve already decided to burn the world down?”

Krek chirruped laughter, shaking himself. His feathers fluffed up. “I decided it wasn’t worth keeping around, after all.” The gryphon clicked his beak. “No, Geppert. But there’s a few messages and things in there I need to send, as well. And truthfully, should that box’s primary purpose ever be initiated, I may require you two to retrieve some items from it, should I be unable to return here.”

Geppert drew a knife, and used it to work through the wax cap on a rum bottle. “In other words, if you die, you want us to burn the world down for you.”

“Precisely.” Krek smiled, his ears up. “Should that happen, I suspect the spark will already be long-since set. I’ll just need you fan the flames a bit. Very little hands-on wet-work required. Unless…” He cocked his head, splaying his ears. “Well, we’ll burn that bridge if we come to it. So, what have you got there?”

“Rum, this time.” Geppert sliced through more wax until he was able to reach the stopper. “We’ll be back to whiskey next bottle.”

“Works for me.” Krek passed the man his drinking bowl.

Geppert poured Krek some rum, then poured some of himself, and Magpie. After distributing the drinks, he turned his attention to the mysterious ebony object. “What’s this thing made of, anyway?” Geppert reached towards it. “Obsidian?”

“Stop!” Krek swatted his hand away.

“Ow!” Geppert shook his arm, wincing. “That hurt, bird!”

“My apologies, but you mustn’t touch it without proper instructions.” Krek held his paw up. “It’s dangerous.”

Geppert shrugged, curling and uncurling his fingers. “So is all your shit.”

“This one’s different.” He glanced at Magpie again. “Grasp the top by the sides, and lift it straight up. Be careful not to touch the left hand. And be prepared for it to be heavier than it looks. You can set it in the table.”

“Yeah,” Geppert said, picking up his rum. “Heavy as that box was when I carried it over here, I half-thought it was gonna be totally full of gold. Or lead.”

Magpie did as Krek instructed, grasping the box’s top by its sides. “Bird’s acting real ominous about this one. Kinda thought he was just being a feathered ass, and trying to scare me, but…”

Krek only smiled as she trailed off. “Yes, let’s go with that one. Just open it.”

Magpie slowly eased the top away. She grunted in effort, but pulled it clear, and set it down on the table with a heavy thump. The contents inside were divided roughly in half. One side of the odd strongbox held a smaller cube made of exactly the same strange, black material. This one had images of dragons inscribed upon it, their heads bowed, and thick collars upon their necks. On the other side were books, scrolls, odd trinkets, a large, golden feather, vials of powders and liquids, waxes and signet rings, maps, a few more puzzle box containers, and much more. Unlike the first two vaults, this one seemed entirely without real order.

Magpie tilted her head. “Lemme guess. Don’t touch the scary looking box on the left?”

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” Krek shrugged his wings, then began to dig through the contents. “Probably won’t do anything, but better to be safe, and all that.”

“And let me guess,” Geppert said, tapping one of the books. “Your black heart here is where you keep all your dirty picture books.”

Krek warbled laughter. “Hardly, Geppert. Wouldn’t do me much good if I made my stash of pornographic materials that hard to access, would it?”

Geppert carefully picked up the hard-bound book, shaking it. “So if I flip through here, I ain’t gonna find no pictures of lady gryphons hoisting up there tails?”

Krek clicked his beak, his head tilted. “Maybe one or two. Though, if that’s what you’re interested in, I should sell you one of my other vaults.”

Geppert set the book back down. “You know, funnily enough, some people really do pay us to hide their sex stuff.”

Krek set a few items down on the table. “I can’t say I’m shocked.” He waved at the book. “That’s actually going to be useful to you two, should this box ever come into play. In the first few pages, there are names and descriptors of certain people who may one day visit your trinket shop.”

“Oh yeah?” Geppert opened it, sharing it with Magpie as she leaned in. “Looks like phrases, too.”

“Correct.” Krek picked up his drinking bowl, and took a long swallow of rum. It’s spiced, caramelly flavors melded well, and warmed him all the way down his throat. “Ah, that’s nice.”

Magpie traced her finger down the page. “How come they all have a little dagger symbol next to them?”

“Because,” Krek said. “If they don’t the correct listed phrase, they’re probably here to kill you. I suggest you kill them, first.”

Magpie and Geppert looked at each other. “I don’t think he’s joking,” Geppert said.

“I’m not.” Krek stared at them, his voice flat. “If the phrase does not match the name, and described person, it is likely they are either compromised, or an imposter.”

Magpie sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You know, at times like this, I don’t really miss doing this shit for a living.”

Krek only clicked his beak. He took another long sip of rum, then continued. “If the person, and their code phrase do match, then they will be looking for specific items from my vaults. Likely, from the Black Heart. Give them what they ask for. And only what they ask for.” Krek reached out and tapped a finger to the book. “The list of approved items is located on page fourteen.”

Magpie flipped through it, then scanned the list. “You and your damn codes.”

“One other thing.” Krek gestured for them to turn the pages again. “See that flame symbol at the top?”

Magpie twisted up her face. “Every spy knows what that means.”

Krek nodded once. “If any of the individuals listed there show up, consider your operations burned. Among others, that list includes Death in the Night’s top spies, and assassins.”

“I recognize some of these names.” Magpie ran her finger down the page again. “Sylva. Tarek. Cassilia. I think I’d already know if any of them showed up, it was time to close up shop and move on.”

“Indeed.” Krek waved his paw. “I don’t expect them to come calling, but consider that list a forewarning, just in case. If the worst happens, there’s always a chance The Wind or her people could trace some part of my vengeance back to my old friends. So if any of those people show up, I suggest you kill them, if you can, and then you institute whatever emergency burn protocols you have, and get the hell out of here. Take what secrets and treasures you can, and raze the rest.” He clicked his beak, gesturing at the black vault. “And do take that with you.”

Magpie smirked. “I’ll consider it.”

“Yanno…” Geppert set the book down, exchanging it for his cup. “I always hoped whenever you showed back up, it’d be to have some fun. That maybe we’d get to go out drinking, gambling, maybe get into a fight. But I shoulda known…” He threw back his rum, downing the entire pour, then slammed the cup down. “You’d only come back here if it was time to throw our lives into chaos again.” He poured himself some more rum, chuckling. “That’s a joke, bird. Mostly.”

“Yes, Geppert,” Krek said, laughing. “You really should have. Besides, I’m not throwing you into chaos. I’m making your lives more exciting again.”

Comments

KnightOfTheDragon

I believe I called out at least twice out loud while reading this "How much do you know Krek?! And how?!" Haha.

SpaceCadety

Having read your other stories, I think I can guess where that poison is from, and what that black vault is. How in the hell did he come into possession of *that*. What else does he know?

The Wilder Lands

Those are certainly good questions to ask! Certain chapters in Revaramek inform us of another character's visits to Illandra... If anyone knows about said character's stay it might be Krek... But there's a lot of 'ifs' and a lot of questions that may or may not get answered directly in this one. Just have to wait and see!