Tales of the Emerald Serpent (Ghosts of Taux) by Scott Taylor

Author:Scott Taylor
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Lynn Flewelling, Michael Tousignant, anthology, Scott Taylor, Harry Connolly, Janet Aulisio, Julie E. Czerneda, Todd Lockwood, Fantasy, Rob Mancebo, Juliet E. McKenna, Jeff Laubenstein, Martha Wells, sword and sorcery, Adventure
ISBN: 9780985767419
Publisher: Art of the Genre
Published: 2012-06-14T22:00:00+00:00

“It’s completely unfair,” Andril said, sometime later. The two of them were sitting on the ground beside one of the Black Gate fountains, not far from where they’d been ejected from the celebration.

“It’s more favorable than rotting in a cell,” Dethocrates replied, holding his swollen eye up to a cold stone recently removed from the well.

“But we were the heroes of the day!” Andril insisted.

“Not by the time the guards are done with the story,” Dethocrates said. “Besides, our contribution was almost certainly luck.”

“Damn it all, what do I keep telling you? My luck is an asset!”

Dethocrates slowly rose to his feet. “After seeing you survive all of that, you may have a point. Come on – the Emerald Serpent’s certainly serving, and I could use a drink.”

Andril stood up, stretching. “We can’t even say that we saved Tlacolotl Vash’s life as I don’t think he was really in danger.”

Thock shook his head. “I think he stayed up in his box, just watching, for a reason. But whatever the case, I’m almost glad that his party was so disastrous.”

“I suppose,” Andril said, as the two walked away. “People scared, property smashed, several guards killed, a few dozen more injured or crippled, and the Arch Pyromancer utterly destroyed, with nothing remaining.”

At that remark, Dethocrates chuckled. “A night like tonight gives a person a chance to learn new things. That hideous fog the thrice-souled beast spat out, for example. It has a truly horrible effect on living beings, but what effect does it have on, say, precious minerals? Perhaps none at all?”

“Some of us were, indeed, wondering about that,” Andril said. “Does that mean that you got something valuable from all this?”

Dethocrates stopped walking, standing in a shadow obscured from the light of the Ghost Moon. “I imagine that a normal roguish adventurer, when he says ‘I’ll distract it,’ is implying that his companions should find a way to destroy the beast they are confronted with. You, of course, are not normal, so I stuck to the original plan.”

At this, he reached into his tunic and pulled out a small bag, handing it to Andril. The smaller man opened it up, and gazed down at several golden rings.

Audril frowned, “Well, it’s no ruby necklace, but it’s still a sight better than empty pockets and a black eye.”

Dethocrates nodded. “After we give the Nightmen Guild their share, we should have enough to settle the tab at the Serpent, pay off an outstanding debt or two, and leave us a bit of spare coin to waste.”

“And waste it I will – eagerly,” Andril said, picking up one of the rings and noting that it was somewhat sticky. “Hold on. There’s a red, sticky substance on the rings, and in the bag – isn’t that bits of…”

“Don’t waste a moment’s thought on it,” Dethocrates said. “It might ruin your drinking mood.”

“Fair enough. After all, whoever we sell them to certainly won’t ask questions about a bit of grime.”

“Very true,” Dethocrates agreed, discretely moving a hand

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