Chapter 20
Calamity
Josse was untouchable. The party had tried time and time again to get to him, but they were thwarted on each attempt. Now, the tournament was the day after tomorrow, and they were running out of time.
It wasn’t helping that Calamity had her face on wanted posters all over the city.
Yorick did his best to help disguise her, but he wasn’t very proficient at it, and she had to walk around in a cloak that concealed her distinctive, gold-tipped horns, which had been highlighted in the guards’ sketch with a little sparkle at the tip of one of them.
They’d split up into pairs for one last attempt at reconnaissance.
Morgana and Calamity sat in a tavern where some of Josse’s men drank, attempting to listen in on their conversations.
They’d had little luck, until one more came in to join his friends, clearly keen to unburden himself of his hard day’s work.
“This fuckin’ tournament,” he said, taking a swig of his colleague’s beer and earning an eye roll. “Josse’s a gambler if I’ve ever seen one, but I’ve never seen him place so many bets. He’s got one on every first-round pairing.”
“You know the old man,” one of the others said. “If there’s odds, Josse’s on one side or the other.”
“He’s not the only one,” the new arrival said. “I’ve just taken his ante down to City Hall, and there’s loads there.”
It had been all over the city – the tournament prize was anything from the city’s vault or the governor’s personal collection. The party suspected this was why the council was facilitating the gambling; they’d replenish any losses quickly with what came in as collateral.
“And this massive chest, supposedly worth so much gold, and it’s just some dumb necklace inside.”
Calamity and Morgana exchanged a grin. They didn’t need to get to Josse; they knew exactly where the Shadowshard was.
* * *
The problem was, they couldn’t just march into City Hall and steal it.
At least, that’s what the others kept saying, though Calamity was mostly sure they could pull it off.
Apparently, her lack of concrete plan to back up her confidence meant she didn’t have theirs.
They chucked around half-hearted ideas in Eden and Calamity’s room.
The elf sat cross-legged on her bed next to Yorick, whose feet didn’t quite touch the floor.
Calamity lounged on her own bed, whilst Morgana sat in the lone chair, and Liam paced anxiously across the floor, no doubt wearing it down with his fretting.
Nashala stood in the corner, watching with her arms crossed.
“We could enter the tournament,” Yorick suggested. “If one of us wins, we ask for the Shadowshard. It’s in their vault, so they can’t say no.”
“Unless Josse wins his bets,” Liam pointed out. “Then he’d get it back.”
Calamity smiled. “Then we make sure he doesn’t win.”
“And how exactly would we do that?” Morgana asked, her voice hesitant, as if she were afraid of the answer.
“Well, we know his opening round picks,” Calamity said, and the others nodded. Josse’s men had heavily debated the merits of their boss’s betting strategy, and their eavesdroppers had taken notes. “So, we find them over the next day and a half and make sure they don’t win.”
“But what about the further rounds?” Eden asked. “Won’t he just make up for it there?”
It was a good point – they could sabotage all they wanted now, but it wouldn’t mean anything for later rounds.
The group debated several approaches – bribing or spying on the bookkeepers, attempting to read his thoughts when he placed each bet, or even seducing him to influence his decisions or earn his secrets – but, in the end, they decided to send Eden, in the form of a bird, to Josse’s box between each stage.
The druid didn’t often use her transmutative powers in this way, and she seemed giddy at the idea.
No one would suspect a pigeon, after all.
They had just enough money between them to get some spell scrolls that would let them communicate telepathically, too.
“Then the rest of us can work to sabotage the players as they go,” Calamity said, glad for the chance at some subterfuge.
“But who’s going to enter?” Morgana asked, and they all looked around at each other. Where was their barbarian friend Gorlag when they were needed most?
Calamity sat up a bit straighter; she liked the idea of sneaking around during the tournament, but she also hadn’t been able to let her magic loose in what felt like ages.
“Absolutely not,” Liam said, spotting her posture change. “Your face is all over this city. They’d arrest you in a second.”
“But it’s unarmed combat,” she said. “You fancy that?”
“I could always go in,” Yorick said, but they all knew that was a bad idea. Only half the spells Yorick knew were combat-focused.
“She’s not wrong,” Morgana said quietly to Liam. “I don’t feel like I’d stand much of a chance without my sword.”
Liam sighed as if he were about to agree, but then a throat cleared.
“I’ll do it,” Nashala said, stepping forward into the group.
“Absolutely not,” Calamity said, almost before Nashala had finished speaking. She still didn’t trust this stranger; she wasn’t sure she ever could.
“Now, come on,” Liam said to Calamity. “She fights without weapons anyway. This could make sense.”
“I also fight without weapons,” Calamity said, feeling magic skirt across her fingertips. She took a deep breath; she’d started enough fires already.
“I think Nashala is perfect,” Yorick agreed, but at least he had the decency to sound as if he felt guilty about it. Calamity glared at him, and he withered. “Sorry, but I don’t want you to get caught. It won’t help us if we have to add a prison break to the mission.”
Calamity narrowed her eyes at Nashala, trying to suss out her motivation.
If she won and claimed the Shadowshard as her own, what could she do with it?
Would she take it right back to Trulnuroth?
Maybe that was why she’d been sent all along.
Maybe Nashala was the servant the prophecy referred to, not Calamity.
But, looking around at her smiling friends, who all seemed satisfied with their decision, she knew her concerns would carry no weight.
She’d eroded so much of their trust with the way she’d handled their investigation so far.
So, as much as she didn’t like it, she knew she didn’t have the power to stop it.
Calamity wanted nothing more than to be proven wrong; for Nashala not to betray them. But there was a sinking feeling in her chest – and a burning sensation deep in her gut – that she couldn’t quite ignore.