Summoned to a Shattered World

Birthright Chapter 8 - Lighting the Fuse

I stared at the large building ahead, around three stories by the looks of it with a smaller building closer to us while the larger building was surrounded by a small field of plants. Made from what looked like some sort of dark grey ceramic, it seemed quite solid. "How are we supposed to draw your uncle out?"

"That part is easy. We're going to take over the trading post."

"Which one is that?"

"They both are technically, I think. But we'll be taking over that one." She pointed at the larger building.

I really couldn't tell if it was a good plan or not, but I did appreciate the simplicity of it. And getting to take a rest inside, presumably with food, while we waited seemed great. "Who owns this trading post, anyway?"

"Xangro Nul, he was an acquaintance of my father's. He's the sole representative of the merchant consortium in town."

"Er, won't it piss those guys off if we take over the house of their representative?"

Sarinknell smiled. "Without a doubt. Which is all the more reason why my uncle will want to get us out of there as soon as possible. We can always patch over relations with the merchants later. They're not ones to hold a grudge, so long as you're willing to pay their price."

I followed behind her as she bypassed the smaller building. The small grounds around the trading post were full of spindly red plants, with skin like velvet. They shone in the light of the lamps placed at intervals around the house. Tinted glass, embossed with an unfamiliar seal, trapped a writhing flame of brilliant orange.

I stared at them, entranced, as we approached. The flame moved like a living thing, creating ever shifting shadows. There was no sign of any soldiers or other servants around the building, but I stayed on guard. It was impossible to say what surprises might be lying in wait in this land of magic.

We followed the discrete path of paved stone as it wound its way through the gardens. The air was thick with a curious mixture of oil and something floral. I assumed it must be coming from the plants around us. Continuing along the path, we reached the front door without incident.

The door looked like polished brass, decorated with a pattern of curved lines. Even the ceramic walls around it were carved with a similar pattern, turning the house into one giant mural. I wasn't sure if it was intended to be beautiful or ominous, but in the lamps' flickering yellow light, it was both.

Unperturbed by the house's appearance, Sarinknell pounded the door with her fist. She continued until someone on the other side called out that they were coming. I glanced at Sarinknell, wondering if I should draw my sword, but there wasn't a hint of tension.

She probably wasn't expecting to do battle then. Taking my hand off my sword, I relaxed. A thin demon with a pair of small curved horns and yellow skin opened the door. He had a sour expression on his face, one that only worsened when he took in who was banging on his master's door.

"Can I help you, miss?" The sheer venom with which he said the honorific made it seem as if he'd said something far worse.

"Yes, actually. Tell your master that Lady Sarinknell is here to see him."

"Lady Sarinknell?" His disdain had lessened, blunted by his rising confusion. "Are you saying you're Lord Sarinknell's niece?" Narrowing his eyes, he inspected her closely, paying particular attention to her shabby clothes.

"Indeed. Now fetch your master before I lose my patience." She glared at him.

"I shall see if the master is in. Until I return, I can only ask that you wait outside and try to hold on to whatever patience you can muster."