Seven

Chapter 2

"A soul," Leopal called from somewhere above Seven, "is not an easy thing to come by. I happen know of several ways to acquire one, and none of them are particularly easy or pleasant. Or even legal, now that I consider the entire endeavor."

The chair she was perched on creaked as she twisted around, yellow eyes scanning the carefully drawn out maps of the world pinned to the far wall. If she stared long enough, it looked like they were moving. Little waves on the oceans, fainter grey shapes that she assumed were clouds drifting slowly and curling into new forms. Or maybe they actually are moving, considering that the maps belong to a warlock.

Leopal slid down the metal ladder that led to a loft crammed full of bookshelves above, letting out a quiet oomph at the impact and dropping a thick tome on the messy table. Seven quickly lost interest as he flipped through the pages, every passage she caught a glimpse of written in unfamiliar characters. There were several languages that she'd learned in her younger years, but this was not one of them.

"If you want a soul, I need something in return. I don't provide my services for free, you know, and a soul usually has a hefty price. But luckily I have something that needs doing." Leopal paused, squinting at her face. "I'm sorry, but did you have scrapes on your face before getting attacked? Those look at least a few days old, not hours- Never mind, not important."

Seven picked at the sleeves of her jacket, flicking her claws against the metal cuffs around her forearms. She was aware of his curious glances at them, but didn't care enough to do anything about them. The cuffs were entirely harmless, as far as she knew. A bit like a signature on a piece of art.

   Seven flinched at a loud sound, looking over at him as he swept a good deal of the table's clutter onto the floor, seeming unconcerned at the sound of shattering glass. He didn't pursue the topic of her quick healing or metal cuffs any further, and she wasn't sure whether to feel relieved he hadn't pushed for information or disappointed that she didn't get to show off. Leopal slapped a piece of parchment onto the newly cleared surface, pointing at the detailed sketch inked on it. Which, like the maps, was moving.

"That. I need that back from the creature that has it."

It looked like a whimsical combination of a watch, a compass, and some other device Seven didn't know how to name. Two elegant hands steadily ticking away while the third pointed north. On top of that, it was intricately designed and brightly colored, three slowly rotating rings along the edge marked with tiny symbols. A truly impressive tool, just as grandiose as him.

"Who has it?" She watched as he ran a finger across the drawing, the entire perspective abruptly spinning around to view the outside of the device and leaving her a bit disoriented.

"Not who. What. A firedrake. I assume you know what those are?"

Seven didn't react for a few long moments, resting her head on her hands and letting out a long sigh. A firedrake. The bigger, meaner, more serpentine cousin of the dragon. Known for viciously guarding their vast hoards and killing thieves without hesitation or a regretful thought. She'd heard stories of knights getting slow roasted in their armor for the amusement of the vicious reptiles.

"Yes, I do know what those are. Anything else I should know before I enter the den of a creature capable of turning me to steaming ash with one hiccup?"

Instead of looking sorry, Leopal looked downright delighted. "Yes, as a matter of fact there is! A band of human knights are riding out to deal with the beast. It's quite a nuisance to the nearby village, you know. Stamping on crops and eating livestock, all that business. If they succeed, they'll loot the den and take my erialioscope. If they succeed, they loot the place and take my belongings. Which is understandably annoying, if they sell them or keep them or whichever. Killing is messy and I dislike it. If they fail, the drake'll be all hot and bothered for the next few decades or so, and I'm not a patient man. I would suggest departing as soon as possible and traveling as if the hounds of hell are snapping at your heels if you want to have any time to yourself around the drake's den."

It took every ounce of self control Seven had to avoid vaulting over the table and ripping his throat out just for his tone. She settled for flipping him off instead.