The Messengers Menagerie (The Courier Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  Auralee got up from her table and threw one of her crimson orbs at Xandrie. It was pushed aside by the explosion, and the two started their duel.

  Booker tensed up at the sight of combat, pulling the trucker away, “Let’s get moving,” He told the stumbling man.

  The three hired muscles all started to draw their weapons as their glimmers fell, approaching the Princess. Mordecai hopped over the table and roared at the group, causing a chill to go down everyone’s spine and bringing them to a halt. The mercenaries paused as they looked the Troll up and down, their tattooed leader was the first to speak.

  “You may be a troll,” Takahati pointed out, “But we’re the ones with weapons.”

  “Let me change that for you,” Delvar’s voice called out as twin hand axes twirled in the air toward Mordecai.

  The Troll caught them with such ease and flourish; it made Booker wonder if it was planned and even rehearsed.

  Mordecai removed the leather at the edge of the axes and gazed the trio down as Delvar jogged up with his broad axe across his back, “Now everyone has weapons,” Delvar pointed out, “It’s nice and fair.”

  “Where did you..?” Booker questioned after setting the now passed out trucker down.

  “I keep telling you,” the dwarf called from over his shoulder, “I know a guy.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Booker placed his sunglasses back on as Auralee and Xandrie made a light show inside the place. The battle cry of Delvar, Mordecai, and the three mercenaries made up for the whip sounds the slung spells made. Sparks were showering about when the red and blue collided.

  Mordecai twirled his twin axes at the main bruiser, Takahati. Booker watched in amazement as the two went at each other, one of the Troll’s axes catching Taka’s longsword, letting Mordecai take a swing with his other axe that Taka would dodge.

  Delvar, on the other hand, was busy having to keep two lesser prepared fighters at bay, using the momentum of each axe swing to carry into the next one to limit exposing himself to one of their blade strikes. It was somewhat funny to watch, like some bearded, lethal version of the top spinners kids would play with.

  Auralee, on the other hand, was like a bat out of hell with all the passion she was putting into her attacks. Glowing balls and slashes barraged Xandrie’s bubble that she laughed behind.

  Booker looked around for a way to help, but couldn’t come up with an answer that was guaranteed to be beneficial.

  After all, he was a Runner, not a Fighter.

  Could he fight? Sure, if necessary. But in situations like this? Watching Delvar and Mordecai use their weapons against a triad of foes was like watching a choreographed action scene on YouTube.

  Auralee had devolved into speaking solely Elvish, no doubt placing cuss words in between spell words.

  “Jealous?” Xandrie questioned from behind her bubble.

  “No,” Auralee answered, a few more words made a mystical sword give the shield a glancing blow, “I’m the one on the outside.” She stepped back from her barrage, breathing heavily. She held one hand up and directed at Xandrie, continuing a much lighter barrage on her. “You can only keep that up for so long, and it's only impervious to magical assault, and the light physical,” Auralee informed her.

  The raven-haired magi smiled back to the Princess, “I have done a pretty fair job so far haven’t I, Princess?”

  Booker watched as Auralee then resumed her onslaught of attacks. “That's probably not something I want to get myself into,” He decided.

  There was a cry of pain and Booker snapped his head over to watch Delvar pull his mighty axe from one of the thugs’ shoulders. He made a face of sympathy for the poor fellow as he crumpled to the floor.

  This distraction gave Mordecai the opportunity to push his opponent off and use his long reach to slice Taka across the chest. The Troll and large bruiser both had various battle wounds already, but the wounds Mordecai inflicted seemed more. Anything Taka did to the Troll seemed to bleed less.

  The simple attack infuriated Taka, making him overextend his strike to compensate for the Troll’s reach. Mordecai dodged the thrust, side stepping and grabbing his arm. Slamming it down on his knee with such force that Booker heard a snap and cry in agony as Taka retreated.

  The leader's pain caused Delvar’s other opponent to falter, giving him an opening to cleave his foe. Booker looked back to where the first enemy had fallen and saw a pile of dust. Wait, what?

  Xandrie scowled at the outcome of their skirmish, trembling in rage as she made a grand gesture with her arms. Roaring as a sphere exploded around her sending everyone that was on two feet flying away. The upset Sorceress moved quickly to Taka, grabbing his arm and then there was a bright light. Even with the help of with his sunglasses, the duo became a black blob that seemed to disappear before his eyes.

  When the light died as quickly as it started, they were indeed missing.

  “Good job Morty,” Delvar congratulated, “Been a right while since we’ve done one of those.”

  His friend nodded, “Could’ve gone better, shame I had to break his arm, but needed to teach him to not overextend like that. That’s not how you raise proper warriors.”

  “Raise proper warriors?” Delvar quoted, “You’re raising proper warriors to come back and fight us?”

  Mordecai only nodded, “We need challenges, not attempts.”

  Delvar rolled his eyes, “Speakin’ of challenges; You doin’ alright Princess? That lass seemed to give you a real run.”

  The Princess had only quietly sat, angrily staring at where Xandrie once was until Delvar questioned her.

  She screamed in frustration and launched another red orb at where they once stood. Delvar and Mordecai blocked their eyes as a shower of crimson sparks rained.

  “Take that as a nooo,” Delvar remarked.

  Booker looked around, surprised to see everything was still in one piece after the small showdown, a few condiments were knocked over after that bomb or whatever it was, but outside of that not so much as a splinter.

  “Oh no,” Booker realized, “The Camera’s.”

  “Were all knocked out,” Auralee informed through gritted teeth, “Even if they weren’t, I doubt Xandrie would be as reckless to leave some sort of footprint.”

  “How do you know this?” Booker questioned.

  Auralee pointed to one of the old-fashioned CCTV camera’s that was hanging limply, pointed back toward the very wall it was hanging on, "Knocked out when she decided it was time to duel."

  “Alright, what about the lady at the register?”

  “Probably slowly getting out of her induced nap, the other couple of people back there quietly attending to whatever their mind tells them to do if it isn’t related to witnessing what happened,” Auralee responded, rising from her seating position, “We should probably get going.”

  “But my Mac and cheese,” Booker pleaded.

  Auralee ignored his request, slammed her hands on the handle and walked out the door.

  Delvar and Mordecai got up, watching Booker for what to do. Booker sighed and got a lid and straw for his tea, “Let's do it to it, part two.” He lamented.

  Gesturing for the two to follow him back, “Put those sheaths back on. If so much as a loose stitch gets cut you two will be walking.” He threatened.

  Once everyone was buckled in, and they were back on the pavement, Booker moved on with a parade of questions.

  “Where did they go, how did they do that?”

  Auralee took the drink Booker brought and had a sip, causing Booker to draw a breath to question her but ultimately decided against it.

  Mordecai offered his idea first, “Regroup and retry?”

  “With a shattered arm?” Delvar questioned.

  “How did they find us to begin with?” Booker moved on.

  “Divination,” Auralee answered, “and perhaps some luck.”

  “Are they done for?” Booker questioned.

  “I doubt it,” Auralee replie
d, “Xandrie isn’t one to leave a job half finished, and if she knows what we’re after I don’t think she’ll underestimate us a second time.”

  “Well at least we are armed now,” Booker pointed out.

  “No thanks to you on that one,” Delvar answered.

  “So, I’ve had a change of opinion,” Booker shrugged off, “sue me.”

  “Where did you get those,” Auralee questioned.

  “Had my guy come by, drop off my axe and something for Mordecai,” Delvar answered.

  “And nothing for me?” Auralee sounded offended.

  “Didn’t know your weapon of choice, didn’t wanna risk it,” Delvar pardoned himself.

  “Officers short sword,” Auralee informed him, “don’t forget it.”

  “Will do,” he remarked, “expensive taste.”

  “I am a Princess,” Auralee responded.

  “Anyway,” Booker pulled the attention back to him, “When we get to the MOMA, can we use that divination to find Ranquel and Izimandius?”

  Auralee made an indecisive sound, “Not really, if we could enchant something we could use it as a sort of compass but that needs something they hold close.”

  A moment later Delvar held a necklace between the driver and passenger seat, a black triangle dangling at the bottom, “Will this work?”

  “I-” Auralee paused giving it a second thought, “can try.” She promised, taking the cord and gripping the scale in her right hand.

  Booker didn’t pay attention to her as the crimson flakes started to be pulled out of thin air and channeled down her arm and into her hand. A low buzz sound emanated through the car. Once the sound disappeared and the light died down, she returned the necklace.

  “Did it work?” Delvar asked.

  “We’ll have to find out when we get closer, it won’t work from this far,” Auralee explained.

  Delvar settled back into his seat, looking out the window and watching the ride go by, Auralee snuggled into her position, tired from all the magic she had used in the last half hour.

  Leaving Booker and Mordecai to talk quietly to each other, they attempted to one up each other on random trivia the whole way. Booker learned some of the cultures of his world and Booker taught him some simple Spanish along with some social situations that he might encounter.

  When Auralee awoke from her nap, she learned that she was lost. Her heart rate rose as all the new sights overwhelmed her.

  Mordecai was the first to notice her discomfort and add one of his hands onto her shoulder to comfort her. She quickly placed her hands on his large fingers as she steadied her breathing, the Princess’ eyes still scanning the horizon of tall grey blocks.

  Booker turned from looking out the window of the idling car, “You alright?” He questioned the scared Princess.

  “Where are we?” She interrogated.

  “New York, New York,” Booker answered, “It’s about four o’clock, and we are a few blocks away from the Museum of Modern Arts. We are about to go and disrupt tomorrow’s plans by stealing a couple of statues.”

  “What about Xandrie?” Auralee questioned.

  “What about Xandrie?” Booker replied, “I’ve not seen hide nor hair of anyone, just discussing with Mordecai really. I don’t doubt she’s in or around here if she’s as dead set as you think she is, but she isn’t bothering us right now.”

  The Princess nodded, still lightly dragging her thumb across the top of Mordecai’s hand.

  “We’re in no rush if you need a moment we can chill here, “Booker offered, “Not like Ranquel is going anywhere.’ He commented while rubbing his right hand on his wrist where the bracelet still rested.

  “Thank you,” Auralee said, settling back into her seat.

  “Besides,” Booker said with a smile, “Mordecai and Delvar were just telling me another story about Ranquel.”

  Auralee took a breath and at that moment decided it was better to let them have their fun, “Which one?” She asked.

  “Mostly the little stories, running through some of the captured Orcs’ depictions of him,” Delvar answered.

  “According to some, it was like he could make arrows appear out of thin air,” Booker reenacted what it was like to draw and fire an arrow, “and boom, an arrow was sticking out their buddy's chest.”

  “You’re a child,” Auralee jested.

  “Yeah, but that’s because I can now afford the nice things I wanted as a kid,” He clarified, “So I’m more or less backtracking and filling up my quotas.”

  Mordecai picked up the hype fest, “He was depicted as one man with the strength, and armament of an entire squad. His sword skill was something even the Ranger Instructors occasionally had trouble keeping up with.”

  “And the silver tongue that would get him out of trouble as often as he was in it.” Delvar continued to inspire Booker.

  “That’s going to be me one day,” Booker informed them, mimicking his favorite boxing movie as he threw punches at the window.

  Delvar laughed, “You and all the other children that hear that story.”

  “Yeah but here’s the difference,” Booker shook a finger, “I can fund my training, and I don’t have to consult my parents about my ventures.”

  “If you say so,” The Dwarf chuckled some more.

  They continued discussing the small things as Auralee steadied herself. When she was ready, she opened her door as a signal for the rest to follow.

  Down another elevator to street level from the top of the parking garage they were at and across the street they went. Booker was leading them the entire way as the guide dog.

  “Yes, it's shiny Delvar,” Booker agreed with the dwarf that seemed to stare at everything, “But you can’t touch because it will not fit you and I'm sure you’ll scare the poor salesperson at the counter.”

  “I wasn’t doing nothing,” Delvar defended himself as Booker pulled them along.

  When they approached the gray and glass exterior, Booker met up with a young guy dressed neatly in a tailored suit with a loud tie and hip modern haircut. He introduced himself as Caesar and Auralee was entranced.

  The man led them through the wooden interior as a personal guide while talking with Booker in a jovial tone that Booker kept up. They discussed politics and what the exhibit was all about tomorrow.

  “Oh,” Caesar stopped them in one of the rooms they were attempting to setup “There are these two statues they brought in earlier today, and I had a look at them, and they are so well detailed!” He sounded excited.

  “Really?” Booker questioned with the same enthusiasm.

  “Yeah,” He confirmed, “The detail on them are incredible as if they were frozen in time. It’s interesting how people were able to make such, precise pieces of art.”

  “And this is where you’re going to showcase them?” Booker questioned as he looked at the spot, the only other person in the room was a woman facing some array of chiseled stones with a clipboard.

  “Yep,” Caesar answered proudly, “putting the finishing touches as we speak.”