Freelance Heroics Read Free Page A

but I don’t have the control for delicate stuff. Best I can do is push, pull, and accidentally break things. Maybe the occasional force bind 7 , but that’s it.”
    “Pretty typical,” said Raedren. “But isn’t that what majors are for? Getting better, I mean.”
    “Not this late in the game.”
    “But if you do evocation, you’ll have specialized in burning or exploding things. Aside from working in a hospital cauterizing wounds, or maybe construction, what work can you get doing that? Work that you’d want to do,” added Raedren.
    “It might help me survive my military service, for one.”
    “Well, there’s that.”
    *      *      *
    Paragon. Malediction. Vector. Bloodfist. The Tryrindar Knights. The Brotherhood of the Steel.
    Those were the names of the six largest adventuring guilds in Houk, the so-called Big Six. Like a cartel fixing prices, they used their government-approved oligopoly to set average rates, distribute lucrative quests, and censure members who stepped out of line. Within Houk their control over the adventuring trade was nearly absolute, with only the Tyrant standing as a check to their power. But she was busy, and rarely bothered.
    This month the Guildmaster’s Council was meeting at Paragon’s guildhall. It was a utilitarian building, more in common with a military barracks than the raucous beer halls of most guilds. Raucous it was now, though, and it made Mazik smile. The crowd behind him heckled and jeered as Mazik climbed onto a milk crate.
    Mazik cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hellooo! Are the big bad guildmasters in today? We’d like to have a woooord with yooou!”
    On either side of the crate, Gavi and Raedren shook their heads.
    “Do you have to antagonize them?” asked Gavi.
    “We’re going to be doing that enough already,” said Raedren.
    “Eh, fuck ’em,” said Mazik. “Besides, what’s the point in gathering this crowd if we don’t give them a show, right? ” he said, raising his voice.
    The mob responded with a cheer. Like all Houkians, they were looking forward to some good old-fashioned street theatre. What was unusual was that they had gathered ahead of time. This was by design—walking ten blocks with Mazik shouting “We’re going to challenge the guilds!” was probably overkill, but he loved a good audience. Likewise with the reporter from the Houk Times. Mazik didn’t believe in taking chances, unless taking chances looked like more fun.
    Mazik watched as the curtains behind the second-story balcony twitched aside.
    “Ooo, there they are. Everyone wave!” said Mazik. The crowd laughed.
    The curtains opened and the windows swung wide, revealing themselves to be doors. The nine members of the Guildmaster’s Council stepped onto the balcony.
    Warmaster Evii’Katünche of Paragon stepped forward. A proud woman who famously expected much from her guild—and even more from herself—she wore dusty cream robes that stopped just below her knees, revealing khaki pants, and her hair was restrained with a clasp that pulled it tight at her forehead and temples.
    “What can we do for you?” asked Warmaster Evii.
    “Good afternoon! We just wanted to discuss a few things with you,” said Mazik.
    Warmaster Evii glanced at the crowd. “Of course. If the three of you would like to step inside, we’ll sit down and chat.”
    “No, that’s okay,” said Mazik, holding up a hand. “Here is fine. I think everyone would like to hear this.”
    Warmaster Evii’s expression didn’t change. “All right. What would you like to discuss?”
    “You’ve been stonewalling us from joining a guild for a month now. That’s petty, but within your rights. That’s not what we want to talk about.” Mazik cleared his throat.
    “Your actions led to the deaths of good Houkians,” he said. “There are soldiers, guards, and even civilians who are dead right now because you would rather play petty games when lives are on the line.”
    A ripple went through