Arcanist Fables (Frith Chronicles Book 6) by Shami Stovall

Author:Shami Stovall [Stovall, Shami]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Capital Station Books
Published: 2021-05-09T16:00:00+00:00

The Fable of Death Lord Calisto

Everett “the Faceless” Zelfree

Before the events of Knightmare Arcanist (Book 1)

It wasn’t difficult pretending to be a pirate. Well, so long as we were in port. All it took was copious amounts of drinking and card games, both of which I had mastered in my teenage years.

Our current pub, nestled in Port Crown, housed all sorts of questionable individuals. Dancers entertained on a stage, but a few times I spotted knives on their belts and vials of poison by their shoes. Everyone here knew a fight was always possible.

Four of us sat at the same table—the four arcanists aboard the Dark Flag. Technically, it had been Captain Redbeard’s second ship in his growing pirate fleet. He had secured the Dark Flag while he had still been masquerading around as a mystic seeker. The moment the ship was finished, Redbeard had skipped port and never paid the shipwrights—ironic, because Lynus and I ended up stealing it from him.

Captain Redbeard currently sailed on The King’s Revenge, a vessel named after his reaper’s vindictive power.

Sitting at the table, we had me—Everett Zelfree—but I often took the name Simon to confuse people. Few knew my real name outside the Frith Guild. I was obviously the most handsome and talented at the table, and the others could barely contain their jealousy. The more drunk they became, the more their anger rose to the surface. Or perhaps it was because I was winning and taking all their money. Either or.

Lynus sat next to me. He knew me and my real name. We had known each other since we were children living near Red Falls. Lynus had the physique of a man who crushed rocks in his bare hands and ate two dozen eggs for breakfast. Manticore magic would do that. Not that I was complaining. His copper hair, rough stubble, and intense gaze made him the second-best-looking man at the table.

Drake sat across from me. His gut put pregnant women to shame. Too much booze, not enough walking. Plus, he was a wyvern arcanist, so his winged half-dragon flew him wherever he wanted to go. His teeth jutted so far out of his mouth it was like they were lonely and wanted to participate in the card games. Someone had to be the worst-looking man at the table, and Drake was a good sport for taking the title.

Ivy sat on the other side of me. Her whitish-blonde hair put ice to shame. It went well with her black unicorn eldrin—a rare variant of the unicorn that few ever bonded with. Most crew members on the Dark Flag spoke at length about her curves, thick lips, and how her thighs could choke a man to death, but I wasn’t as smitten with those details. She was the best-looking—and worst-looking, technically—woman at the table.

I took a swig of my rum as I examined the cards in my hand. I would win this round. Not because of luck, but because of the king of kirins I had hidden in my sleeve.

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