Page 55 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

“While that’s a good incentive to get through the fog wall and kill the finfolk, it doesn’t give us an answer as to how to break it. None of our magic is suitable for such a task,” Hapi pointed out as he also glanced back at them.

That was sadly the case. Malfas and Hapi were their offensive hitters, magically speaking, but they didn’t possess the type of magic they currently needed.

They needed someone who had an insidious magic of their own.

Maxie poked his knee, and Fenric looked over to see Maxie’s eyebrows raised in a hopeful expression. “Fen, you seem to have an idea?”

“I might,” he allowed. “I think we need to hire someone.”

Malfas perked up. “You know a guy?”

“Everyone knows a guy,” Rain muttered with a roll of his eyes.

“What guy?” Maxie’s eyes darted from one face to another. “There’s a guy?”

“There will be if we can catch up with him.” Knowing they had no clue who he meant, Fenric explained, “I know a bard.”

Malfas sat up a little more, interest spreading over his face. “How do you know a bard?”

“He may have gotten locked up in jail with me once”—not to mention sexed him up in an alley—“and we got to chatting.”

Without prompting, Malfas explained to Maxie, “Bards are excellent for this kind of nonsense because their magic is both subtle and very good at disrupting other magic. There’s a great deal of magical theory behind why, and I’ll explain if you’re truly interested, but in essence, they are great at clearing out spells meant to confuse people. They can safely work from a distance, too, so they can act as support if we go into a fight later.”

“They also have healing spells and cantrips,” Hapi threw in, “which differ from a necromancer’s healing.”

“This person sounds like the best answer to our dilemma.” Maxie turned to Fenric and asked, “Where is this man?”

“Last I saw him, he was in Björnkill.”

“Do you think he’s still there?”

“I hope so. I know he was looking for information, but I’m not sure if he found it.”

“No harm in returning to Björnkill,” Belstrom said. “Even if we fail to locate your friend, we can always seek out another bard to hire. Or another soul whose magic aligns with our endeavors.”

True enough. “Then let’s make camp for the night, then travel back to the port town in the morning. I think hiring a bard is likely our best bet. I don’t know how else to get through the fog.”

Belstrom nodded. “Truly, we would drive ourselves mad before successfully traversing it.”

Fenric was done getting tossed around by magic fog.

It was a relief to get back to Björnkill. They’d camped a good distance from the finfolk-summoned fog and then set out the next morning. There had been no point in doing more inspection once they’d decided to find someone who might have the magic required to deal with this kind of problem. As it was, Hapi, Belstrom, and Malfas were at the limit of their knowledge. But how the hell was Fenric supposed to find Lirion in a town as large as Björnkill?

Lirion, of course, was one just traveling through. Fenric didn’t know where he’d even choose to stay, honestly. Assuming he had money for his own room. As an incubus, he could hook up with different people in order to feed and grab some shuteye, which would make him damn impossible to track down if it wasn’t for his distinctive cotton candy pink hair.

Fenric wasted no time as soon as they arrived back in town, splitting from the others and heading to The Drunken Bard first, the pub he’d met Lirion in a few days prior. He’d not met an incubus—or succubus—before, so he wasn’t sure if vibrant hair was normal. Did everyone of that species have bright pink hair? Was it just a trait of Lirion’s? He’d said his hair came from his mother, though.

Come to think of it, why did Fenric remember their conversation in the jail so clearly? Normally, he wouldn’t retain such information about someone. Well, remembering how badly the night was bungled, he still cringed, so maybe that was why.

Sadly, it was a different barkeep at The Drunken Bard, and he had no memory of Lirion, so Fenric moved on. He hit several pubs, an information broker, and tried a few inns at the waterfront. No dice at any of them.

He stopped for a late lunch, scarfing down some fried fish and chips with a light ale before he continued on with his search. Having a full belly improved his mood marginally, but this was still pretty frustrating, and it wasn’t just because he needed Lirion’s help. He found himself actually looking forward to seeing the man again. While his temper could be sharp, he had a good sense of humor and a fun, flirty nature when he wasn’t pissed.

But how was Fenric supposed to find him? Fenric’s information about Lirion was pretty damn limited. He knew the guy was handy at tying people up, gave an excellent blow job, and was searching for information about someone named Aria. If only they had a common friend, or he knew the man better, he could guess where Lirion would go. Right now, though, it was anyone’s guess.

Determined to find him before the day was up, Fenric hit the market next, asking various vendors if they’d seen him as he steadily worked his way through the bustling crowds of people out getting the day’s shopping completed. The first market didn’t pan out, so he shifted his focus farther down, closer to the red-light district, and tried their open market. Just as he was getting tired of walking and being jostled by the masses, he hit on a bit of good luck.

“Oh, the lovely man with soft pink hair?” The old grandmother selling bottles gave Fenric a toothy grin. “He’s a fine one. If I were twenty years younger, I’d chase him myself.”