Son of a Liche (The Dark Profit Saga, #2)

by J. Zachary Pike

Though its architects built Boulderfolk Commons to Scribkin scale, an office on the premises was still a sign of prestige to anyone in the business community of Andarun; even Elves would overlook the inconvenience of desks that only reached their knees for the status that a Boulderfolk office afforded. Everyone wanted to work in the big mansion for little people, which was precisely why Poldo couldn’t afford to. Boulderfolk’s high rents were even more well-known than its low ceilings, and just as likely to knock a prospective tenant out flat. Unfortunately, a hot drink could only buy so

“That’s how the foundations like things,” grumbled the King. “A banquet here, a cocktail hour there, donations every which way. It’s all a lot of chances to rub elbows and talk business, and nobody ever knows enough about the problem to tell if they’re solving it.”

Long ago, before Handor graduated from prince to king, he had imagined ruling as mostly sitting on a throne and making wise-sounding proclamations. Now that Handor was old enough to possess some wisdom, he realized that wise-sounding proclamations were for pacifying the masses. The actual business of ruling was exactly that: business. Revenues and expenses, inflows and outflows, policies and addendums, and all of it done in smoke-filled rooms far from prying eyes and listening ears. Things had been done that way for generations when Handor took the throne, and the only change he’d made to the process was a partially successful effort to cut down on the smoke.

“And the taxman is taking money right out of the hands of businesses who would spend it on jobs, sire,” said Baggs.

“Well, gentlemen, it is an enviable thing to be afforded concern for the people with no responsibility to them,” said Handor, settling back in his seat. He sipped at his glass of spirits. “You and your shareholders are doing better than most of my subjects.” “Perhaps, sire, but we don’t know how long that will last,” Goldson confessed.

Some adventurers had problems with healing potions. Drinking elixir closed wounds and rejuvenated the dying, but careless users developed crippling addictions to the amber liquid. Kaitha knew she didn’t have that problem, because unlike the average salve-head, she could stop whenever she wanted to. Her current problem was that she didn’t quite want to stop yet, but she also couldn’t seem to keep her hands on any healing potions.

“This is what I’m talking about.” Jynn sighed. “To you and the bards, he was nothing but a villain. You see everything he did through that lens. But I lived those stories, and I know better than anyone that history is nothing but the collected lies society tells itself. To me, Detarr Ur’Mayan was a father, and I spent my entire adult life believing he and I were wronged. When the guild brought their false charges and Johan killed him, I thought the world had turned against an innocent man.”

“It’s basically insurance for the insurance company,” said Poldo. “Oh no,” said Fitch. “It’s not insurance.” “Well I don’t see how it’s any different,” said Poldo. “Insurance is heavily regulated,” said Mr. Stearn.

There were few things that could unite the Order of the Sun and the Order of the Moon; over the ages the two great factions of mages had refined their philosophical differences into the purest contrarianism. Solamancers and noctomancers went to great lengths to be on the opposite sides of every debate, be it political, social, religious, or inane. Even amid such cultivated animosity, however, there were still forces that could push the two orders of mages to the brink of cooperation. One common example was real estate prices.

Gorm put a hand on Laruna’s shoulder. “Lass, sometimes ye need to trust a friend to make their own choices, even if ye disagree with ‘em.”

“Not as bad as they made it sound, anyway,” said Tyren with a shrug. “I mean, it was a shock when it happened, and I’m still getting used to things. But my old knee injury doesn’t hurt anymore, and it’s the first time in ages I’ve woken up without a hangover. Plus, now what do I have to be scared of or worry about? The worst is already behind me, I suppose.”

Kindness and success shared the same problem; they both set expectations. Expectations that such charity or prosperity could be easily duplicated, or that they would be constant, or that they were just milestones in an endless line of goals and objectives.

“Okay, you’re right,” said Gorm. “But what’s your point?” “We’re always between wars, Gorm,” said Kaitha. “All peace is fleeting. You need to take advantage while it lasts. These are the times when you can find happiness and love.” “Hmph.

Nove’s second principle was a straightforward equation, using Nove’s Constant to show that the likelihood of an unfortunate event is directly proportional to the anticipation for whatever the misfortune would disrupt. In layman’s terms, the more people looked forward to something, the more likely that tragic circumstances will prevent it.

“And it does promise some entertainment,” said Goldson. “Always a factor,” said Baggs. “Regardless, we heard Your Majesty might also be interested in providing inspiration and leadership for the troops.” “And more importantly, that you might be interested in being seen providing inspiration and leadership for the troops,” said Goldson. Handor

“And bam! Just like that, they’re on our side!” said the Head of Marketing. “It’s brilliant! We’re converting the enemy without firing a single arrow!”

You’ve got to allow for a bit of hyperbole if you want to build a memorable brand.” “A bit?” Tyren looked up from the sheet. “She can’t have more than a dozen or so vampire thralls. I mean, best case scenario is that you’re off by a factor of fifty. Right?” “Well, ‘the Mistress of a Dozen or So Thralls’ doesn’t exactly rattle the bones, does it, sir? But I’ll change it if you want. You’re the boss, after all.” The Head couldn’t stop the flames around his head from flaring a little higher when he noted Tyren’s relatively recent rank increase. Jealousy and resentment radiated from the skull along with infernal heat.

“Any time.” Tyren leaned back in the old chair. He still had his natural talent for delegation; only a master of middle management could give away all of the work for a project, stay in a place to get much of the credit, and still get thanked for it. The knack must have been in his bones, as evidenced by the fact that there wasn’t anywhere else for it to be. Perhaps undeath hadn’t taken that much away from him after all.

Neddard in the service of the city of Vetchell, in part because he was always a bit of a glutton.” “I’d prefer to say I had a taste for the finer things,” said Ned. “I’m sure you would,” said Ted. “But the point is, when the master cursed us, Ned’s appetites transformed him into a ghoul. Whereas myself, not having any character-defining flaws—” “Nor any personality whatsoever,” Ned muttered. “I just became your basic zombie.” Ted shook his head sadly. “And now he outranks me, just like all the people with unfinished business who became ghosts or the spiteful murderers who became wraiths and the like.”

“Some journeys you must walk alone,”

“I’ll concede that you have power, solamancer,” Detarr rose higher, weaves of noctomancy spiraling around him in complex patterns. He thrust his arms out, and the lightning and stone coalesced around him into a pair of sinister wings, bat-like spindles of bone webbed with crackling green lightning. “But I have power as well, and beyond that, I have mastery!”

“Ah, no,” said Mr. Flinn. “We are paid killers, not storytellers. Our job is to be fast, efficient, and lethal. Justice is irrelevant, and there’s nothing poetic about it.”

Panic is like a fire. It starts with a spark, and if it’s not snuffed out, it spreads quickly. Fear is driven by winds of gossip wherever nervous minds and an uncertain future provide fuel. Terror is as swift and damaging as any blaze.

As the sun cannot comforte thee in the dead of night, Knowledge cannot be thy only comforte, for there will always be questions.

I will help the downtrodden in my way. I will remember the virtues. I will give strength to the weary. I will lift up the broken. I will be a hope in the darkness, because I know better than any There is not always a light at the end of the tunnel. That is why you must carry a torch.

“First of all, never tell a Dwarf he can’t hold a grudge,”

“You don’t know who you are. You only know what will happen if you aren’t the person everyone expects.” The Elf ran a finger along the edge of her jade bracers. “Trust me, wizard, I’ve been more rich and famous than you’ve dreamt of, and all it ever made me feel was pain and fear of losing it. Success and status are a gilded cage. But when you let go of those things, or life takes them from you, the expectations don’t matter anymore. Strip it all away, and nothing can hurt you. You lose the fear.”

As it turned out, a life could be free of cares and yet also devoid of fun.

Something else was bothering him. It wasn’t just that fun was less fun these days, nor was it the added difficulty of trying to live a carefree life without being careless about his real identity or the very real threats to it. The problem was something else entirely, a yearning that he hadn’t felt before.

After nearly two months with the undead, he had once again managed to precisely calibrate his career for an optimal effort-to-authority ratio.

said, are ye Duine Poldo?” the Dwarf repeated. Shock threatened to overwhelm Poldo, and his terror precluded forming coherent sentences. His brain fell back to the businessman’s most basic instinct. With a subconscious spasm of his arm, he pulled a business card from his coat pocket and extended it to the Dwarf.

Jynn shrugged off the accusation. “My entire life is a series of events that could have been great if they went another way. What if Mother didn’t die? What if Father’s research had been successful? What if my marriage to Marja had kept Father alive? What if the Al’Matrans never recruited me? What if you and I had done things differently?” He dismissed these alternative realities with a wave of his hand. “We could spend an age wondering about the things that could have been. None of them will be. It’s best to set such feelings aside and focus on the work at hand.”