Chapter 25 #2
“Thank you.” Nik stepped out, and the man immediately left, descending back down to where he’d come from.
Without knowing what to do next, Nik decided the best thing would be to simply knock on the man’s door.
So he did, and when it opened, he was greeted by a rather tall but fairly young man.
“Come in, come in, make yourself welcome. Excuse me while I finish my shave.”
“Not a . . . not a problem,” Nik said, entering the sumptuous room, following the well-dressed man with a steaming towel pressed to his face.
“Have a seat,” the man said, “and I’ll be back in just a moment.”
Nikolai had mingled with royals on many occasions and had seen what great amounts of money and power could purchase. He was always curious about the items put on display. They never failed to tell him a great deal about the owner.
Those who arranged comfortable furniture for guests tended to be the best diplomats and were centered on such things as human rights policies and treaties.
Others who displayed fine art or statues were typically focused on trade, export, and economic prosperity.
Some would showcase items from far-off places, indicating ties to nature, wildlife, the Arctic, or the oceans.
While those who exhibited flags, weapons, or heroes of the past were more dedicated to patriotism and protection for their country.
It didn’t matter whether the home was an extravagant palace or a hovel in the smallest town.
People always showed their colors. Family portraits meant the person, or couple, took great pride or comfort in their legacy.
A bare space indicated that whoever lived in that home had not put down roots or meant to leave at any moment.
As the man cleaned his face, Nik looked around for signs to gauge what type of person he was dealing with.
The chairs were luxurious, something he’d expect in such a space, but the cushions were clean and simple—an indication the man did not want to stay or put down roots.
However, there were subtle signs that showed he prized something . . . rare. Something not often seen.
Politics didn’t interest this man. He didn’t care for people either. He had no photos of family or friends. The art on the wall was expensively framed but meaningless. Generic. As were the carpets.
The few books he saw were also common—simple classics most would include in a library.
But there were a few standouts. Those were what interested him, in addition to a few simple items that sat on one of the shelves.
His fingers itched to examine the books as well as the relics.
Nik immediately knew them to be magic—he recognized a rune carved into what looked to be a wand.
Hearing footsteps, he reluctantly sat down, noticing only at the last moment the bowl of stones on the table beside him.
He ran his hand over them lightly and felt power, but it wasn’t coming from the stones inside the bowl.
Ah, he thought, a ruse. Sliding it aside, his eyes widened as he realized the entire table was a section of carved Sledovik cup stones that had been lifted from a glacier and polished to a high sheen.
Running his fingers over the three indented cups, he could feel the hum of power coming from there.
“So,” Nik mumbled quietly, “you collect magic.”
Quickly, he moved the bowl back where it had been before and affixed a smile on his face, preparing himself to greet the man as he entered the room, knowing he’d have to do his best to play the part of someone else.
Nik was good at acting. Hiding his true feelings and fears was something he was well accustomed to, especially when dealing with powerful men.
Still, when the man entered, the unexpected shock sent even a man as practiced as Nik aback. His smile faltered and his heart raced. It took him too many seconds to recover, but he managed and rose to shake the man’s hand, saying, “I certainly appreciate you seeing me on such short notice.”
“Not at all,” the gentleman replied. “Please sit. To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from one such as yourself this evening?”
Nik studied the man he’d come to know. He was young. Much younger than when he’d met him, but there was something in his eyes. Yes. It was the same. He was still deadly. And clever. Oh-so-very clever.
Leaning forward, Nikolai rubbed his hands together, slowly, and glanced up at the man, seeing just a hint of impatience. Deciding to scrap his plan and go a completely different route, Nik began. “I’m not who you think I am,” he said.
“Is that right?”
“That’s right. But then again, you aren’t who people think you are either, are you?
What are you called here? Do they refer to you as the Death Draughtsman yet?
Or is that a name that comes to you in the future?
Do you pose as a monk? I see you’ve been collecting magic.
Have you discovered all the relics you seek yet?
Perhaps you use your other name here. Grigor Sobol Petrovsky? ”
The man was upon him in an instant, his dark eyes flashing daggers. He grabbed Nik by the collar and pulled him to his feet. “Where did you hear that name?” he asked softly. “Tell me quickly, before I slay you where you stand.”
Nik was surprised the man didn’t try to probe his mind or send clouds of magic or fog or summon his undead minions.
He realized in that moment that the man hadn’t yet come into his full power.
That meant they had a chance to kill him—a much better chance here in the dreamworld than they did on the outside. Nik smiled.
“I heard that name from your own lips, Grigor. How many years have you been trapped here?”
Shock registered on the man’s face. He thrust Nikolai back and he tripped, falling onto the settee.
The man began pacing. “You’ve met me, you said? In the future?”
“That’s right. You’re quite the magician.”
“And I’ve been collecting relics?”
“Yes,” Nik replied. “In fact, you’re the one who sent me.”
“I sent you?”
“That’s right.”
“I’m supposed to help you get out of here. But to do that, you’re going to have to help yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re going to have to show me exactly what magic items you’ve collected so far. One or more of them might be tying you to this place. Also, you’ve got to let the tigers go. You can’t get home until they do.”
The Death Draughtsman appeared to be considering Nik’s words but then dashed to the shelf and grabbed the wand.
Quick as a flash, Nikolai whipped off his shirt and disappeared.
By the time his adversary mumbled an incantation and spun to aim it at Nik, he was nowhere to be found.
Both men waited silently, listening for the tiniest sound, for an exhale or a shift of a boot on soft carpet.
Finally, the man pocketed his wand and said, “I know you’re still here and that you do not possess the power to curse me.
If or when you return, I will kill you on sight.
I know a thief and a robber when I see one.
You are a fraud, nothing more. If you want me to believe you, bring me proof.
Show me evidence of a relic and I will listen. Otherwise, your life is forfeit.”
Lifting a bell, he rung it and a dozen men appeared immediately. “Sweep the room from top to bottom. When I leave, bar the doors. There is a thief inside. He is invisible. When you find him, kill him, and bring me his bleeding body. If he escapes, all of you will be killed in his place.”
The men immediately fanned out and locked the doors.
Nik knew he had no choice but to follow the Death Draughtsman.
Staying as close to the man as possible without touching him, he closed the gap between them, narrowly avoiding being sliced open by multiple swords as they methodically began sweeping the room from top to bottom, side to side.
He barely made it through the heavy door as it was locked behind them, and he heard the cries of the men as they searched.
Quietly, he followed the man as he returned to his quarters and sat at his desk.
He stood in the room as he gave orders, signed papers, examined artifacts, and even personally murdered an assistant.
When the body was removed, Nik followed it out, hoping they were going to take it outside to be buried.
Instead, he barely avoided spewing the contents of his belly when they hacked it to pieces and fed it to not one but seven large tigers.
He recognized three of the cats. One was Iriko. The other two were Veru and Stacia. But how had they ended up caged there? Four of the seven cats refused the macabre dinner, but three of them ate with gusto.
Nik approached cautiously. He’d have to find a way to rescue them, but there was no way to do it alone. He’d need Pasha’s help. He stopped at Veru’s cage first. She roared.
“Hush,” he mumbled. “I know you’re probably mad.”
Her paw came out and swiped at him.
“Stop that,” Nik said. “I’m going to rescue you.
I promise. I’m just glad to see you’re all alive.
I’ll bring help. You’re scheduled for the Games, but I’ll try to get you out before that.
You’re owned by the Death Draughtsman. He’s not at full power yet.
We can beat him now if we put our heads together. Stay safe. I’ll be back.”
Just then two men turned the corner. “Did you hear something?” one guard said.
“Nah. Don’t know why you’re always thinking someone’s down here. Just us and the cats and the man who’s staying over for dinner.” He started chuckling.
“I don’t think it’s funny. Bound to be us one of these days.”
The other man shrugged. “We’re all zoophagans, ain’t we?”
“What’s that? Zookeepers?”
“Nah. Carnivores. They eat meat. We eat meat. Only fitting we end up meat for something.”
“Not me. I’m top of the food chain.”
“No, you ain’t. Lots of things what can eat you.”
“Like what?”
“Like them, for one.”
“Yeah? What else?”
“Snakes.”
“Snakes? I don’t think so.”
“Yeah, they can. Great big ones.”
The two men wandered off and turned a corner, still arguing.
“Glad you have men smart as carrots taking care of you,” Nik mumbled. “I’ll hurry,” he promised, and followed behind them.
It took another hour for him to find his way out of the compound, and then two more hours to make his way back to the main game area and then to the section that looked familiar enough to him that he could find the rooms where Pasha and his girls were staying.
He discovered the right floor, turned the corner, smoothed back his hair, and prepared to knock—when he noticed the room had been abandoned, and everything inside it had been destroyed.