ã€ŠThe Thaumatist Incidentã€‹


 Suss (Prologue)

    Suss had forgotten how the story was supposed to end. The children were all looking at her. She stood at the front of the classroom, biting her lip, and stared back at them. They sat on crude square pillows scattered before her and wore grey clothes she¡¯d taught them how to make. Their usually empty eyes were hungry for her words.

    ¡°And then,¡± she said, stalling for time and taking a deep breath. The word dropped and she waited. And waited. They stared and stared. They were her family, and she had assisted with many of their births, yet today she couldn¡¯t recall their exact ages. The moments slid by, and she looked down at her hands. The skin was mottled, still similar in shade to the red bricks of the wall, but bony and shrunken now. A frail girl started looking at the ceiling, and Suss caught herself following the gaze. There was a crack in the bricks wide enough that sand was streaming through, carried by the desert wind.

    One of the boys shoved the boy next to him, and the silence broke, shattered by their trilling laughter. All twelve children started talking at once, and she felt the shame evaporating. The pressure to tell the story was fading, though a part of her desperately wanted to know the end. She remembered learning the story in this room, from the oldest woman in the world. Perhaps her grandmother, but who could remember. What she did remember was that the stories never seemed to end. The Great Creation and all of Ma¡¯ii¡¯s Revelations.

    Her hands high above her head, she clapped and chirped in her most pleasant voice, ¡°Come, children, it¡¯s time to go outside.¡± Their excitement almost drowned out her wistful musings. She felt sad but smiled all the brighter. The world had shifted somehow in her life.

    The children were all hurrying to put their pillows back on the shelves except the oldest girl, who approached her and asked, ¡°Mistress Suss, what are we going to learn tomorrow?¡± The girl¡¯s pillow was dangling from her hand, and she reached out for Suss¡¯ hand with the other.

    Suss¡¯ mind went blank, but she started speaking anyway, ¡°What did we learn today?¡± She asked, immediately regretting the question, and desperately trying to think of something to teach them tomorrow.

    The girl stared at the floor for a few seconds, her straight black hair fell like a shadow, hiding her face, ¡°You were telling us about how Ma¡¯ii had chewed on the reeds?¡± Her tone was vaguely sad, and Suss felt her heart tear.

    ¡°I told you about that yesterday, Aruh,¡± she reached her hand out and stroked the girl¡¯s head and held her shoulder. All the children were staring at them, many bouncing from foot to foot impatiently.

    ¡°Oh, then what did we-¡± Aruh was cut short as another much younger girl ran up and grabbed the pillow from her hand.

    The girl that grabbed the pillow ran to the shelf and put it away and then called out, ¡°Can we go now? Please? The pillows are put away.¡±

    Suss smiled and clapped her hands again, ¡°Are we all ready to go outside?¡± There was a general murmur of assent, but Suss noticed that two of the youngest had not put their moccasins on. ¡°Be patient, we all need shoes outside,¡± she helped the barefoot boy and girl find their shoes and herded the children out into the narrow hall, and then walked through the classroom blowing out the candles.

    The tapestries on the walls had faded until the pictures were hard to make out. Suss and her sisters had tried making new ones, years ago, but couldn¡¯t get the designs right. They had simply traded the ones they made off to outsiders. Her whole childhood had been in this room, and it had been a magical place then. When she found out a baby wouldn¡¯t grow inside her, she had decided that Ma¡¯ii wanted her to replace her teacher, but some days it was hard to understand why. A teacher should know all the stories.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    With a heavy sigh, she made her way back through the dark room to the twisting hallway, and began following the children. Deep shadows pooled at the turns; the candles on the walls were spaced much farther than they used to be. The high priest had said that it was the outsiders fault they didn¡¯t have enough candles. He had screamed at her, and Suss had not asked again.

    ¡°Be careful not to trip,¡± she said, loud but kind, as they ran ahead of her. She kept thinking back to her own childhood, pulling her brightly colored shawl tightly around herself. It must have been warmer then. The redstone halls were so narrow that adults had to walk single file, and if two were going opposite directions, one would have to back up. Still, the children pushed and shoved their way through the temple.

    Suss heard a scream, and thought that one of them must have tripped and hurt themself, almost all of the children out of her sight, past a turn. She shouted, ¡°Who¡¯s hurt? What¡¯s going on?¡±

    Aruh was the only one still close to her, the only one who had not been running ahead. She said, ¡°I¡¯ll find out, Suss!¡±

    Before Suss could respond, she darted ahead with the speed and grace of a child. Suss was closer to sixty than to fifty and worried as she was, she felt old and slow, groping her way along the walls quick as she could.

    ¡°Aruh?¡± She called out into the darkness. Silently, she cursed the high priest and the outsiders he blamed, for the lack of candles, ¡°Aruh? What¡¯s going on up there?¡± No one called back to her, but she heard a strange whistling sound. The sound put into her mind the sound of the wind whispering across the desert sand. The sound for which she had been named.

    ¡°Suss! There¡¯s,¡± Aruh screamed from ahead, but her voice cut off in a choke as Suss rounded the corner.

    Scattered across the floor like fallen dolls, her children. A strange green fog filled the air. There wasn¡¯t enough light. There weren¡¯t enough candles. She could see their bodies on the floor through the fog, and two shadows moving. One of them looked unnatural. Too thin to be human. Suss gasped. A sweetly acidic taste assaulted her tongue. Numbness began spreading from her chest. She turned to run for help.

    Weakness gripped her, and her legs gave out. A woman¡¯s laughter was all she could hear. She willed herself not to breathe,her chest tightened. Crawling, she felt the pressure behind her ribs. Voices, the voices of outsiders were getting closer.

    I have to get help. The thought raced through her mind. A litany. One of the men, one of the archers could help.

    On her stomach, she pulled herself forward. Her legs were so heavy. Her lungs were screaming. Behind her eyes pain began swelling. Her vision blurred. She pressed her eyes closed and forced herself to squirm forward.

    Something clenched her side. She tried to move but couldn¡¯t. Her body wouldn¡¯t listen to her. The numbness had spread to her toes. She was rolled onto her back, and opened her eyes. The face she saw was inhuman. She let herself gasp, no longer caring to hold her breath. What she saw was shaped like a man, but metal. Copper. The hand that grabbed her was like needles stabbing her through the numbness. Her skin tore under its vice grip.

    From behind the creature, a woman appeared. In the dim light her eyes looked black. She bent at the waist and looked down at Suss. Her hair is beautiful, Suss thought. It was an absurd thought and she wanted to laugh. The metal man reached his spidery hand into a satchel and handed the woman a piece of glass. Her mouth opened in a wide grin revealing teeth nearly as black as her skin. As black as night.

    Ma¡¯ii save me. Suss begged internally.

    Then there was nothing.

    <hr>

 Emile 1

    Emile was almost late. She was nearly running through the library, but hardly a sound escaped from the plush carpet. Deep blue light flowed like streams between the looming bookshelves. Leaves and twigs were scattered before the window. She¡¯d left it open again last night. The sound of a twig snapping underfoot made her frown. I need to remember to come clean this up later.

    It would have been a nasty fall from the third floor if she missed the branch, but Emile wasn¡¯t concerned about that. If she didn¡¯t hurry they were going to start without her. She hardly had time to get her pad and charcoal when she heard the robin¡¯s call. First again! The robin¡¯s got it this morning. She made a mark on her pad and relaxed on the branch. Next to sing was the rusty bunting from across the street. A respectful time later was the rusty bunting from down the way, and his call was followed by a strange song.

    Emile cocked her head to one side and listened intently. Someone was playing a rusty bunting¡¯s song on a flute. It was good enough to get the buntings answering back, which made Emile smile. There was only one person Emile knew who would do something as ridiculous as that. She scampered down, sidling graciously past the robin¡¯s nest while whispering an apology. With a final drop she landed on the soft earth.

    Emile listened for the birds. The bunting from across the street sang again, sounding somewhat concerned, followed by the bunting from down the road, who sounded very concerned indeed. Emile stifled a giggle. The flute answered back, and she took off towards the sound. Past the pump where she filled buckets of water, and round the side of the inn.

    Emile made her way up the only street, and felt a pang of regret about abandoning her friends. Well, it¡¯s a special occasion. She smiled at the thought and started running. The courthouse was empty, but the bats were startled out of the belfry. On her right, Old Clyde¡¯s shop looked abandoned, but she knew he was probably puttering around inside. As the only street in Kentvale turned into the King¡¯s Road, Emile stopped and looked around. There wasn¡¯t anyone to be seen. High above her head she heard wingbeats and looked in time to see a rusty bunting shining bright orange. It flew away from the road, lighting in an elm. Emile sprinted after it, swung around the tree, and straight into Fern.

    Fern dropped his flute and let out a startled yelp. Emile giggled and wrapped her arms tightly around his stomach.

    ¡°Is that my little goddaughter creeping, when of course she should be sleeping?¡±

    Emile released him from her grip and grabbed his flute before he could reach it, ¡°Does Pa know you¡¯re coming?¡± She chastised.

    ¡°I myself was unaware until you gave me such a scare.¡±

    ¡°How could a tree get lost? You said you were raised by trees.¡±

    Fern placed his hand on the elm lovingly, ¡°Trees do not get lost because they do not roam. One thing in this life I have learned on my own.¡±

    Emile held the flute out to him, ¡°Pa¡¯s not going to like it if you just rhyme while you¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°Why? Do you think he has something to fear? Now, let¡¯s get a look at you, my dear.¡± Like a dancer, he flipped the flute from her and snatched it up, slipping it into his back pocket. His other hand caught hers and twirled around in a never ending pirouette, ¡°Hair like fire, legs like string, growing like a vine, but still can¡¯t sing!¡±

    Emile caught herself and gave him a stern look, ¡°I can too sing! Pa says I¡¯ve got a golden tongue!¡±

    ¡°I would never disagree with you, my child, and I¡¯m not sure I even could,¡± Fern sounded serious for a moment.

    ¡°If my hair is like fire, then yours is like the night sky, but with more stars than I remember. Why are you really here anyway?¡±

    ¡°To sing songs and drink wine, and while we can sing here, I think, we need to make our way to your esteemed father, if I am to drink.¡± At this he broke into one of Emile¡¯s favorite songs on his flute, and they started walking.

    When they reached the inn, Fern raised his hand and caressed the small thatch wheel hung on the door. ¡°This is the first Wheelwreath I have seen all season.¡± Fern started, and continued softly, ¡°Oh, but of course. He¡¯d never admit that they''re treason.¡± Emile pushed in front of him and opened the big door.

    The smell of baking bread was overwhelming and Emile heard Fern¡¯s stomach rumble. ¡°You must be hungry!¡± She pronounced.

    ¡°Who¡¯s hungry?¡± Her father sounded polite, but concerned. Fern cringed when Pa peered out from the kitchen. ¡°Really? A year without a letter and you skulk in before the first light of dawn!¡± He strode out of the kitchen, untying his apron, trying not to let his smile show through his big beard.

    Fern extended his hands, ¡°A single word and I''ll be gone, leaving your inn without a song.¡± Emile heard her father groan and she grabbed Fern¡¯s hand protectively.

    Frederick laid his flour-dusted apron aside and swept toward Fern, enveloping him in a welcome hug. Emile heard him whisper, ¡°Are you here to see your neglected goddaughter or do you have some news?¡± and Fern replied too softly for her ears, but it made her father gasp. He released Fern and scolded her, ¡°And what were you doing out of bed to find this miscreant?¡±

    Fern looked at his emerald-polished nails, and said demurely, ¡°I have always considered myself a deviant.¡±

    Emile laughed and opened her mouth to respond when her father¡¯s frown made her hesitate. ¡°Give your impertinent godfather a hug and get back to bed. No one will show up for another three hours and I saw you up reading again last night.¡±

    She wrapped her arms around Fern, delighting in the fine velveteen of his jade coat, seemingly woven of leaves and vines. While lost in that warm moment, a violent rap shook the door, making her squeal. By the time she opened her eyes, Fern had vanished and her father had pulled her behind him.

    ¡°Open up for the Black and White!¡± Frederick relaxed and threw the bolt back. He opened the door to reveal one scrawny man in a suit of dirty black and white canvas. Black on one side and white on the other, but both turning grey with wear. The man tumbled backwards into his two guards, his boot hitting air where before there had been a door. High above his head in his white gloved hand was the Wheelwreath. Both of the chainmail clad men seemed as surprised as he was, though one of them was fast enough to step out of the way.

    ¡°Hey!¡± She shook herself free from her father¡¯s grip, ¡°Put down my Wheel! I made that!¡±

    He dropped it and awkwardly stood. ¡°Treason!¡± He shrieked, and turned as if he was going to stomp on the Wheel.

    ¡°Stop!¡± Emile yelled, ¡°What do you want?¡± Frederick laid a hand on her shoulder and she took some deep breaths. Rude, it¡¯s just rudeness is what it is, she thought but said no more.

    With his boot still in the air above the decoration, the man answered, ¡°I want food and shelter, as is my right as a Collector!¡±

    Emile felt her father¡¯s hand squeeze her shoulder again reassuringly, and she looked up at his bearded face, ¡°What¡¯s that have to do with us, pa?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I can¡¯t say I¡¯m entirely sure Emile, maybe one of these other young men can explain it,¡± Her father opened the door wider, ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯d all be much more comfortable sitting down, wouldn¡¯t we, Emile?¡±

    ¡°Oh, fine,¡± She turned to look at the motley group, ¡°Come inside, but you two leave your weapons by the door.¡±

    The two guards pushed their way in, dropping their swords and knives on a rack by the door, their heavy chainmail and boots making an awful racket. Emile frowned at all the dirt they were tracking in, as she knelt to pick up her wreath. The little loop she¡¯d made to hang it from the door was broken, so she just carried it in with her, pressed to her chest.

    ¡°Right,¡± her father said in his innkeeper voice, ¡°Why don¡¯t you three make yourselves comfortable and I¡¯ll get us all some tea.¡±

    In the light of the lantern on the table, Emile could see that the two guards were young, much younger than she had first thought, and the man in black and white, a tax collector, was much older than she had expected him to be. Frederick returned with a tray, complete with kettle, pot and cups, and began laying everything out on the table, ¡°So, does anyone take sugar? Cream?¡±

    The boy¡¯s loose fitting chainmail clattered loudly on the table as they both reached for the sugar bowl. Emile relaxed somewhat, examining the wreath and thinking about how she was going to fix it. Her father caught her eye as he laid a cup for her and said, ¡°Emile, aren¡¯t you curious why these boys are here?¡±

    Emile set the decoration on the bar and walked to take her seat at the table, ¡°Why are you here?¡±

    All three of the men started to answer at once, and Emile stood up on her knees on the bench to reach the teapot in the center of the table, ¡°One at a time,¡± she looked up, ¡°You with the yellow hair.¡±

    The older of the two guards spoke, and Emile noticed how angry the old man in the stiff suit was, ¡°Our mum said that¡¯d it¡¯d be a good job for us. Guarding a Collector. You never go hungry.¡±

    Emile used both hands to pour herself some tea, ¡°Is that so? How old are you?¡±

    ¡°Fourteen ma¡¯am,¡± Emile burst out laughing, spilling tea. Being called ¡®ma¡¯am¡¯ by a boy twice her age.

    ¡°Oh sorry, uh, forgive me, and you,¡± she looked at the one with the brown hair, ¡°How old are you?¡±

    ¡°Twelve ma¡¯am but I lied, so don¡¯t go telling anyone. Our mum said she couldn¡¯t feed all of us anymore on account of our da¡¯ running off drunk all the time.¡±

    Father handed Emile a towel to clean up the tea she¡¯d spilled. ¡°You lot at the capitol are having a lot of trouble finding soldiers these days, and food too from the sound of things?¡± He stared right at the old man in his tattered black and white suit. ¡°Seems like a waste for you to be worrying about what decorations I hang on my door, especially since you¡¯ve already collected the taxes for the season.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    ¡°That is none of your business, when I gave my last to the king and donned these clothes,¡± He gestured to his grubby black and white suit.

    ¡°How long ago was that?¡± Emile heard herself ask, interrupting the man. She¡¯d seen officials in the stiff suits twice a year her whole life, and they¡¯d always been clean and arrogant. And there had always been two of them.

    ¡°Thirty-Seven years ago, young lady! Thirty-seven years of loyal service to the crown!¡± The man tried to roar but his voice caught and it turned into a wheezy cough.

    Her father rounded the table and patted the old man on the back, ¡°I see, served under Hubert Carter, second of his name! Imagine they treated you with dignity back then. What¡¯d you say your name was, sir?¡±

    ¡°Adrian,¡± he leaned back in the chair and took a long sip of the hot tea. ¡°Aye, they did at that. I was a lad when the good king Carter died. I never met him. I met Hubert the Second. He treated us right. Took my last he did, and I never went wanting. The Collectors was his best idea, and he had a lot of good ones. Served him with honor, always had a partner then, and real guards too!¡± He smacked his bony hand on the table, ¡°No offense lads, I know you try.¡±

    Emile¡¯s tea was still much too hot to drink, she never understood how people could stand such hot drinks. ¡°So why would you tear down a Wheelwreath?¡± She felt bad asking, but the Wheelwreaths for King Carter. He was the good king, everyone knows that!

    Adrian inhaled the steam rising from his cup and said with resignation, ¡°I have to, we all do. King Puissant¡¯s orders.¡±

    Emile felt bad for him; felt bad for all three of them. ¡°My pa says it sounds like ¡®pissant¡¯, says if you¡¯re going to make up a name, it shouldn¡¯t sound like ¡®pissant.¡¯¡±

    Adrian grinned, ¡°Aye, I know the song, ¡®Ever ¡®eard of a Pissant King?¡¯¡± His grin vanished when a timid knock came at the door.

    Emile began to rise from her chair but her father motioned for her to stay put. Adrian and his child guards seemed very tense as the heavy bolts were thrown back. The door opened revealing a chubby boy a few years older than Emile in a grey smock and a flat red hat. Emile thought it looked like a red pancake with a cherry on top. He stood stock still in the first rays of dawn, a large paper parcel held out protectively from his chest with both hands.

    ¡°Reggie,¡± her father boomed, ¡°what¡¯re you doing out so early, this far from the mill?¡±

    ¡°Begging your pardon sir, I don¡¯t work at the mill no more. Pa said I had to go work for the magistrate.¡± Emile sat up in her chair and waved at him brightly. Reggie was a fat boy, not one for climbing trees, but he was one of the only children in the village that didn¡¯t bore her.

    Her dad gestured to the table and the spread. Adrian had already risen. He was trying to drink the rest of his hot tea in one go. Pa¡¯s face looked worried for a moment but he spoke cheerfully, ¡°Come in, come in, I have some fresh bread in the oven, and I have some hot tea. Working for the magistrate? That¡¯s quite the honor for a lad, I imagine.¡±

    ¡°If you say so, sir,¡± Reggie sounded sad, ¡°I can¡¯t come in though, he said I was supposed to bring you this letter and then hurry back so I could serve at breakfast.¡±

    Adrian was at the door now too, crowding the entrance, ¡°Brutus is already awake? I need to speak with him at once,¡± he no longer sounded friendly and Emile frowned. Both of the boys at the table seemed like they were trying to hide behind their cups, ¡°Come along lads, we need to pay the honorable magistrate a visit.¡± They sagged in their armor, but stood up all the same.

    Her father said, ¡°Son, tell him that it is a privilege just to be thought of by the most esteemed member of our community and that I will do my due service.¡± Emile was surprised to see her father click his heels together, and snap a military salute. The impromptu courier could not help but clumsily return the gesture. ¡°Before you two go,¡± he turned to the boys gathering their swords and knives, ¡°let Emile here fetch you some bread and hard cheese for the road, as is our duty, loyal to the crown as we are.¡±

    Their grimy faces lit up, and Emile ran off towards the kitchen behind the bar. She heard Adrian say something about a true kindness before the door swung shut behind her. Inside the kitchen, bread was browning nicely in the large stone ovens, and Fern was drinking from a finely made wooden cup that she didn¡¯t recognize.

    ¡°Why¡¯re you hiding in here?¡± Emile asked pulling bread from a low oven with a paddle.

    ¡°I was simply choosing to be, somewhere that collector couldn¡¯t see.¡± Fern tossed his cup straight in the air and jumped up on to the counter he¡¯d been leaning on, then caught the cup with a flourish.

    ¡°Are your feet clean? You don¡¯t even wear shoes,¡± Emile rummaged in a cupboard and found some cheese and dried sausage that she tucked into a burlap sack, ¡°Your feet can¡¯t be clean.¡±

    Fern finished whatever was in his cup in one drink and pressed his hands together around it. When he opened them again, his hands were empty. He extended one foot straight out in front of him for her to examine, ¡°Are the roots of a tree clean?¡±

    She shook her head and went back to the dining room. Reggie and Adrian were gone and the two boys were standing in the doorway. Her father was clearing the table, and Emile handed the sack to the older boy, ¡°You two be careful,¡± Emile warned, ¡°Brutus is mean.¡±

    They both nodded and thanked her profusely. When they started off, she heard the blond boy say, ¡°See, everyone has to give food and shelter to Collectors.¡±

    ¡°Then why hasn¡¯t anyone?¡± His brother asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe they didn¡¯t have any.¡± He shrugged.

    Emile closed the door and returned to where she had been sitting at the bar. Her Wheelwreath was still there and next to it was the parcel Reggie had delivered, heavy with the magistrate¡¯s wax seal. Fern made his way out of the kitchen and took a seat next to her, his wooden cup in his hand, full of dark red wine. He picked up the missive.

    ¡°Looks official,¡± He hefted the paper pretending it was heavy, ¡°Beneficial?¡±

    ¡°More likely judicial,¡± Her father said, the wooden tray balanced on his shoulder and his fingertips. He winked at Emile.

    Fern muttered, ¡°When you do it, it feels artificial,¡± he took a drink from his cup and set a wooden top to spinning on the table, looking petulant.

    ¡°Emile.¡± She looked up from the spinning top. ¡°Why don¡¯t you open that up and read it for the sulky godfather and me, show Fern how well you¡¯ve been studying your letters.¡±

    She was aghast, forgetting how much her reading had improved in the last year., ¡°I¡¯ve been reading books on my own for three years,¡± she snatched up the folded up parchment and broke the wax seal. Six square chips of silver fell out.

    Fern caught five of the chips, ¡°Reading for an audience,¡± he dropped the five chips in front of her, ¡°and a fee, is a lot different than reading silently.¡± The top stopped spinning.

    She read, ¡°To whom it may concert,¡±

    ¡°Concern.¡± Her father interjected.

    ¡°Concern!¡± She felt her cheeks flush and shot an evil glance at her father, ¡°the honorable and just magistrate, Brutus Hedgford-¡± At this both of the men burst out into laughter.

    ¡°Let me read it!¡± Their laughter cut off instantly and both men stared at her in quiet attention, ¡°To whom it may concern, the honorable and just magistrate, Brutus Hedgford, is issuing a bounty, upon the head of the villain Robert Cobbler, also known as ¡®Robert Two-Eyes¡¯ and his band of filthy rogues. To anyone who can bring an end to the vile deeds of this cowardly thief, a sum of five gold sheets and the eternal thanks of the village of Kentvale will be rewarded. Proof of this deed must be shown by either presenting the head or the corpse of Robert Cobbler to the magistrate of Kentvale.¡± Emile placed the parchment back on the bar and folded her arms proudly.

    The heavy wooden door banged open and in swaggered a handsome young woman of sixteen or seventeen. She wore thin leather armor from helm to boots, and a somewhat rusted iron dagger coated in ichor strapped to her belt. She seemed winded and immediately plopped herself into a chair by the unlit hearth.

    ¡°Inn-keep, a mug of your finest ale for a brave adventurer, please!¡± The youth dropped a few copper chips on the table and took off her leather helmet.

    Emile could hardly follow Fern¡¯s movement, he was off the barstool and a moment later he was at the table. Before the girl he placed a wooden cup, exactly like the one he was holding, ¡°My lady, pray, if I may this suggest, change this request. Wine flows from the vine,¡± he flourished his beautiful coat of velveteen foliage, ¡°Ale¡¯s a drink I find fit for cattle, and I think I find you after battle, allow me the privilege, begging your forgiveness,¡± he dropped a gold chip on the table and seemed to slide into the chair that was now touching hers, ¡°Allow me to finance what you imbibe, and a chance to sing of what you describe.¡±

    Emile hopped off her stool and moved over to the table, excited to hear a new story. Her father set down the big tray on the ledge by the scullery and called out, ¡°Begging forgiveness, Fern does that to everyone he thinks has a story to tell, but he doesn¡¯t have time to listen just now,¡± he made his way from behind the bar and filled a mug with ale, ¡°and it¡¯s certainly no business of his what you drink. Emile take this over would you, your godfather and I have some things we need to discuss in the kitchen.¡±

    Emile grabbed the big horn mug and carefully carried it over to the table. Fern stood and made both of the wooden cups vanish, but he left the gold chip, ¡°Alas it would seem, my host shatters my dream,¡± he bent at the waist, ¡°I am Fern, all the same, I would learn, at least, your name.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Julie, Julie of Chalkstone.¡±

    Fern reached for her hand, Julie extended hers for a handshake, but he instead pulled it to his mouth and kissed her leather glove lightly. He released her hand and for a moment it hang in the air unmoving. Emile put down the mug and climbed up onto the chair that Fern had pulled so close to Julie¡¯s.

    Once her father and her godfather had disappeared into the kitchen, Emile turned to the young woman. ¡°You were going to tell him a story? Did you really just come from battle?¡±

    Julie picked up the mug and began to spin a grandiose tale of stalking an eight-legged monster through the swamp lands that surrounded Kentvale. She was just getting to the part where she drove her razor sharp blade into the beast¡¯s back while nimbly avoiding its deadly mandibles, when Emile interrupted her.

    ¡°Wait! You mean you killed a giant spider?¡±

    ¡°Well, I was getting to that part, as I said, my courage finally overcame the very real fear I felt for my own life and I raised my blade high-¡±

    ¡°One of the giant spiders in the swamp?¡± Emile interrupted her again in voice a growing softer with each word.

    ¡°Uh, yes, as I was-¡±

    ¡°The ones that get about this tall?¡± She held her hand little more than a foot above the floor.

    ¡°I think it was a little bigger than that-¡±

    ¡°I think that¡¯s mean!¡± She jumped up from her chair and started walking back towards the kitchen in disgust.

    ¡°Wait, uh, fair maiden, I was in fear for my life!¡±

    Fern and her father had returned at some point during the story and stopped her on her way into the kitchen. Neither seemed angry, and her father said, ¡°Not from around here, are you?¡± Julie shook her head, ¡°those spiders in the swamp aren¡¯t any threat to anyone but the rats and birds that get caught in their webs. Emile, don¡¯t be mad at her, she didn¡¯t know any better.¡± Emile retreated to the kitchen for a moment to make sure she wasn¡¯t going to cry. There was nothing worse than hurting an animal for no reason. She listened at the door.

    ¡°Please, uh, noble innkeeper, I¡¯m an adventurer in need of work. If you know of any dangerous dungeons full of ancient treasure, or any lost artifacts that need to be recovered?¡±

    Emile could hear pity in her father¡¯s voice, ¡°Well, I have a whole pile of firewood I need chopped, and my back isn¡¯t what it used to be.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± Emile was skipped out of the kitchen and snatched the magistrate¡¯s letter from the bar, ¡°you didn¡¯t know about the spiders, but look!¡± She pressed the letter into Julie¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Emile! No, that letter doesn¡¯t concern her!¡± Frederick reprimanded sharply.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t concern me?¡± Julie was skimming the letter and mumbling, ¡°this is perfect!¡±

    ¡°Listen, Robert Two-Eyes is a serious highwayman, he and his band have been robbing caravans. Caravans with armed escorts.¡± His words darkened with each word, ¡°I¡¯ve known good people who he killed.¡±

    Oblivious to his foreboding tone, she asked, ¡°Where is his hideout?¡±

    ¡°If I knew that, it wouldn¡¯t be a hideout, now listen-¡±

    ¡°Of course, of course,¡± she was mostly mumbling to herself now ¡°have to ask around the village, find clues.¡±

    Emile eyed her with hope, ¡°You could be a real hero like my mother was!¡±

    Julie started gathering her things hurriedly ¡°Thank you!¡± she seemed to remember the chips on the table and drained the mug grimacing with each swallow, ¡°And thank you for the ale, the very best I¡¯ve ever tasted! I shall return, with the head of Robert Two-Eyes! I bid you adieu!¡±

    As the door slammed shut behind Julie, Emile looked at her father and Fern. ¡°She¡¯s beautiful.¡±

    The men looked at each other, and it was Fern who said, ¡°That¡¯s irrefutable. A bounty hunter, though? Disputable.¡±

    <hr>

 Julie 1

    Julie was not miserable. Water dripped onto her head and down her neck from the jute canvas she called her tent. The day had been spent interviewing villagers; they were not talkative. She gleaned some scant information from a shepherd. His field was near where Robert Two-Eyes waylaid caravans. Laying on the soggy earth with the wind blowing and the rain falling, she was excited to face the day tomorrow. The sun was down and the rain was beginning to let up, she thought she should try to force herself to fall asleep.

    Sleep still wouldn¡¯t come, she tossed and turned thinking of all the blankets she could afford with the five hundred gold chips. A fitful, short-lived sleep did finally bless her only to be broken by the piercing rays of dawn as they filtered through the thinning canvas that had fallen over her head in the night. The light was still reassuringly low on the horizon. She broke camp with practiced ease, after freeing herself from the tangled mess the six stick and jute had become. Just like every morning for the past week she pulled the twine from the sticks and laid them on the tent and rolled everything up as tight as she could before tying it all up with the twine threaded through the straps of her backpack.

    Julie buckled her belt firm against her bony hips then drew her sword and tested the edge on her thumb. It seemed sharp enough, as sharp as a wood axe. She looked at the blade with apprehension before sheathing it again. It was the best she could do without oil. She was really looking forward to the reward she would get for today. Money had never been a concern, and it was so rarely used in Chalkstone she had little understanding of its worth. It had not taken long for the expenses of traveling to rack up. No one was taking care of her now, she was a brave adventurer all on her own.

    Chin held high in spite of her blonde hair plastered to her neck with mud, she set out in the direction the shepherd had given her. A deep, booming voice called out from behind her making her turn and jump, ¡°Hail there! Well met, traveler.¡± It was an odd sight that greeted her. Three people were approaching her, dressed in ridiculous costumes. One of them was as big as a bear with skin the color of rich soil. Another was as pale as a sheet, with a long scar running down the length of his face. And the third was a woman almost as dark as the giant, so beautiful that Julie felt herself blush as the woman started talking.

    ¡°I believe you are the adventurer traveling to turn Robert Two-Eyes to justice!¡± The dark woman extended her hand, and Julie met it with her own. It didn¡¯t sound like they were going to attack her, in fact, the woman with the sleek black hair had a broad smile on her face. Under a soft suede cloak, the woman wore shiny armor; sheets of metal coated with dull paint and chromatic scrollwork. The cloak itself brought old seasoned furniture to mind, with dark gray leather in wide strips lined in red silk that flashed in the sun. Fastened to her hip was a long scabbard. It seemed to match her armor perfectly. A small folded crossbow, with more brass gears than any grandfather clock Julie had ever seen sat on her wrist. Julie couldn¡¯t look away, pockets and flasks and ropes, tied seamlessly to the supple cloth that joined the hard plates of metal in a framework that moved easily. The woman¡¯s exposed fingers and graceful neck bore bits of starlight caught in silver and gold.

    Julie tried to shoo away a thought about her own appearance, but maybe they were a traveling circus or something. The big fellow could be a strong man performer, and the other scrawny fellow looked like a tattooed sideshow, with his eerily sallow skin in the daylight and grotesque scar. He is exactly who she would expect to eat a flaming sword.

    It took Julie an embarrassing amount of time looking at them to remember that she had been asked a question. ¡°Yes.¡± She squeaked, taking a deep breath and looking at the woman for reassurance. She nodded her head. ¡°I am doing a favor for the magistrate and ridding the roads of miscreants.¡± She hoped her voice sounded heroic that time.

    ¡°Oh certainly.¡± The woman¡¯s hair whipped like black fire in the wind. ¡°When we heard that you were going to fight a villain with his reported body count and reputation, well Sevil here just insisted we meet you,¡± She clapped the pale man companionably on the shoulder, making him sway. He looked at her reproachfully and opened his mouth without speaking. She winked at him and laughed. ¡°Would you mind too much if we tagged along? I, for one, am very interested to see you in action.¡±

    Ah, Julie thought, they are circus performers, wishing to see a real adventurer in battle. She must be a bard, with her shiny costume. A bard always accompanies the hero! ¡°Yes! Why I think that would do perfectly.¡± She put on her best heroic smile, genuine and ingratiating.

    The woman raised one jet black eyebrow for a moment and then was talking breezily once more. ¡°Great, great! So, you know where you¡¯re going?¡±

    ¡°Um, well I uh¡­¡± Julie stammered and thought of her near fruitless interviews with the villagers, ¡°I talked to a shepherd yesterday and, well, you would understand if you were an adventurer, but I talked to some of the townsfolk and they gave me some clues. Apparently most of the ambushes are taking place on the same stretch of road, just up here.¡± She pointed forward, and the dark woman looked like she was having to take very careful breaths in order not to laugh. The giant of a man was adjusting the leather straps that held plates of dull metal to his chest and back, and the pale man seemed completely oblivious to the conversation, smoking a pipe that reeked like the swamp Julie had crossed on her way into Kentvale.

    ¡°That actually sounds like very thoughtful detective work.¡± The man she called Sevil and the man with a neck thicker than her thigh gave each other wry glances. ¡°I mean, interesting technique! I will have to make a note of that.¡± She paused for a moment and said, ¡°So, if you were going to build a hideout around here, or even a fortress, where might you put it?¡±

    Julie looked down the road. It was densely forested, the nearby town had more lumberjacks than farmers. There were plenty of stumps along the road, but it was still too thick to move a horse through. In the far distance she noticed a hill, with what looked like a clear path to the road. She realized, with a flash of embarrassment, that there was a thin cloud of smoke coming from the hill. ¡°Oh, well I think that hill, there on the horizon.¡±

    ¡°Very good deduction!¡± The woman smiled. She must be impressed with my skill, Julie thought. With that, they set off in the direction of the hill, with Julie walking proudly in front. As they got closer, on the edge of bow range, the raven-haired woman stopped Julie inquiring, ¡°So, tell me, brave adventurer, if you were hiding up on that hill, do you think you might have someone watching the road? Perhaps, a lookout?¡±

    Julie paused and thought about this. It certainly made sense that people may be watching the road if the encampment was guarded. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure there are.¡± She said.

    ¡°Well, if it was me, and I was going to fortify this hill, I would have at least two people hiding in the trees there, and there.¡± Ravenhair pointed to each side, into the forest. ¡°This area, from the road to the hill has obviously been burned to clear the area to be guarded by longbows.¡± The woman cut herself off abruptly, ¡°Just speculating, of course.¡± The two men exchanged meaningful glances.

    The importance of the distance they had left in front of them became apparent to Julie. She imagined eyes on them now, and realized just how exposed they really were. ¡°Oh yes, that much is obvious.¡± Her confidence faltered, ¡°So, if you were to approach a situation like this, how would you go about it?¡± The small party¡¯s experience was becoming obvious, but Julie¡¯s anxiety far outweighed her pride in the matter.

    ¡°Well¡­¡± The woman rocked back on her heels and looked the hill up and down. ¡°If it were us,¡± she gestured to her companions, ¡°I would send one person up the hill alone, someone who looked unarmed, maybe someone a little less intimidating. If it was a woman, they would probably send someone down to capture them instead of just opening fire. You know how men at these camps like having a young woman around.¡±

    ¡°I suppose I could head up the road. All I have is my sword, and I could leave that with you, if you promise to take good care of it.¡± Julie volunteered herself bravely. She hoped their armaments were not just for show. ¡°Just to test the water, of course.¡±

    The woman gave her a calculating glance, ¡°You do know how to handle yourself in hand-to-hand combat, right?¡±

    With far more confidence than she felt, Julie responded ¡°Oh, yes!¡± She had wrestled with her brothers plenty. She had never actually been punched in her life, but she usually pinned even Jack, who had weighed half again as much as she did.

    With some reluctance, she handed over her sword to the raven-haired woman and began heading towards the hill by herself. About halfway from where they stopped to the top of the hill, two men staggered out from the cover of the trees. They had lecherous grins on their faces and one was holding a bottle. Neither looked toward the threesome she had just left, and they certainly did not seem to be worried about any possible danger. One had a longbow hung carelessly across his shoulder, strung loosely. The other seemed to have an empty scabbard. The longbowman started talking first, ¡°What do we have here, eh, Waddy? She looks like a little mouse.¡± The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Excuse me? I am no mouse!¡± Julie squeaked. She glanced nervously behind her and her heart started racing when she saw that her ¡®friends¡¯ had disappeared. I have been robbed of my sword, and left alone to be captured! A panicked voice inside her started berating her relentlessly for her stupidity.

    They approached her, staggering a little. She set her feet more firmly and raised her chin. Taking a deep breath to try and steady her voice, she said ¡°Don¡¯t you come any closer! I¡¯m warning you¡­¡±

    ¡°Or what?¡± The man with the empty scabbard laughed, reaching for her.

    She slapped his hand away and he fell to the ground. Julie and the other man had identical wide eyed expressions of shock for a moment, before the man started laughing. ¡°He never could hold his drink. That¡¯s alright, now I¡¯ve got you all to myself!¡± He reached for her, and she caught his arm, turning it away from her. Like a scarecrow, she threw him to the ground. He laid still, splayed out, with his face in the dirt.

    She backed away, looking around in confusion. When a hand touched her shoulder, she screamed. The raven-haired woman snapped at her, ¡°Hey! They didn¡¯t alert Two-Eyes, but if you keep screaming, they won¡¯t have to.¡± Julie had no idea where she had come from, but the massive man was with her too. ¡°Good job with them, lass. Left Sevil a clear shot.¡± The woman tossed Julie her short sword, and she managed to catch it by the handle, the sheath fell to the ground. Julie picked it up hurriedly and buckled it around her narrow waist. She went to put her sword back in it, and the woman stopped her, ¡°You¡¯re going to want that in a moment, here, right Toby?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened! They just, sort of, fell over! I barely touched them¡­¡± She stared, confused, at the snoring men.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know your own strength, I expect.¡± The woman¡¯s eyes sparkled.

    ¡°Um, what now, do you think?¡± Julie asked tentatively.

    ¡°We keep going!¡± Ravenhair was walking in a low crouch that Julie tried unsuccessfully to emulate as they made their way up the hill. ¡°If we stand around here talking we¡¯ll lose our advantage!¡± She whispered.

    They made their way up the bald hillside, and still Julie did not see the man with the scar on his face. Behind her, Toby was moving as silently as a cat in spite of his size and the plates of metal he wore. The woman in front of her walked in a crouch with a practiced ease. As they approached the top of the hill, the crude structure of a wooden palisade began to become visible.

    Ravenhair whispered, ¡°They think they¡¯re so clever,¡± Julie could see now what looked like a wall made out of recently felled trees. She gestured to Toby with her hands, and he began to creep ahead of the two women, now crawling on his hands and knees. ¡°Stay here. When it starts, watch my back.¡±

    Julie watched the giant of a man move so slowly that it seemed he wasn¡¯t moving at all. Like a wolf pouncing, he sprung from all fours to a full sprint, straight towards the wooden wall. There was a sound like lightning striking a tree, and splinters of wood shot out in every direction. A group of men that had been sitting around a fire outside the entrance to the cave, were scrambling for their weapons. Ravenhair was still in a crouch, but she was firing bolts from the clockwork crossbow on her wrist.

    Everywhere she aimed her hand men died, choking on their own blood and clawing at their throats. Julie gagged in sympathy. Toby moved through the camp like a whirlwind, swinging his giant axe, and felling men like wheat at harvest time.

    Julie averted her eyes from the slaughter. She told me to watch her back. Behind Ravenhair, two men were running up the hill. Should I tell her? They were approaching fast, their swords out, running with an odd drunken gait. One of the men tripped on a stone, and tumbled to the ground. The other was already almost upon her. His eyes seemed focused on the destruction behind Julie. She held up her sword in a defensive pose, expecting it to clash with his. It did not. The blade slid into his stomach with a sickening ease. In a moment, he slumped down, pulling the embedded sword from her trembling hands.

    With all of her strength she dislodged the sword from his guts, pressing her boot against his chest for leverage. There was another one, she thought, looking around frantically, in time to see the man stagger back, with a bolt sticking out of his eye socket.

    Ravenhair was next to her now, and patted her on the back affectionately. ¡°You didn¡¯t even flinch! Good job!¡± Julie was trying to wipe the blood off of her sword, ¡°What are you doing, we¡¯re just getting started! Toby¡¯s got the path cleared! It¡¯s time to meet Robert Two-Eyes!¡±

    Julie was beginning to feel excited in spite of the sickening feeling deep in her stomach. They crossed the battlefield, stepping over corpses in ill-fitting armor. Inside what remained of the palisade, she could see Toby guarding the entrance to a shallow looking cave, and at his side was the man with the scar.

    ¡°Sevil, how many inside?¡± Ravenhair asked him.

    ¡°Three. One of them is a magic user. Seems to be some basic warding charms up, I¡¯ll dismantle them,¡± He hissed his words, casting a glance at Julie, ¡°If you¡¯re ready that is.¡±

    She looked at the dark woman, spattered in blood, and wondered how she could have ever mistaken her for a bard. Toby held his axe as if was a part of his body, and Sevil, she now realized, was the first wizard she had ever met. But not the last, she thought to herself and smiled, exclaiming, ¡°Let¡¯s do it!¡±

    Sevil closed his eyes, and raised his arms. Tendrils of orange and green light emerged from his hands. The threads spread until they came to the entrance of the cave, and collided with an invisible wall. There was a flash and the ward became obvious, like a spiderweb in the air. The tendrils of orange green seemed to tear at the threads and in a matter of seconds all signs of the light and web was gone. Sevil opened his eyes and smiled.

    Toby let out another blood curdling roar, and led the charge into the cave. It was shallow, and as they reached the back, Julie heard a slow clapping. Animal musk, torch smoke and rotten food permeated Julie¡¯s sinuses. The group stopped, and she turned in time to see Ravenhair roll her eyes and mutter, ¡°Every. Single. Time.¡±

    The man who was clapping stepped out of the shadows. He wore chainmail from head to toe, and a battle-axe almost as large as the one Toby carried was strapped to his back. Upon his head he wore what appeared to be a helmet made from the skull of a deer, antlers included. He was flanked to the right by a filthy half naked man with a short sword in each hand, and scars all over his chest. The dirty man seemed to have fur growing in patches from random parts of his body. The fur was ripping through his skin all over. Behind them both, Julie could make out a diminutive man still hiding in the shadows. He seemed to be flipping through the pages of a book and frantically trying to read it.

    It was Sevil who spoke first, ¡°Wererat? Maybe even wolf. I¡¯ll handle him.¡±

    The man who Julie knew must be Robert Two-Eyes in the antler hat laughed and said, ¡°You think that the likes of you can so easily-¡± He was cut off as Toby charged him, while Ravenhair fired of a volley of bolts. The book dropped between dead hands to the ground. It was soon followed by the man¡¯s body.

    The fire from Sevil¡¯s hands spread over the man with two swords without actually touching him, as if flowing over an invisible barrier. The room heated up uncomfortably and the air gusted with the stench of burned oil. He discarded his swords, hunching down on all fours. In the orange red glow of the room, his face and body contorted into something hideous, beastial. The two enormous axes clashed, sending a shockwave through the cave, and with a resounding crack, Robert¡¯s axe split down the blade.

    The man dropped his broken axe, ducking to pull out a dagger from his boot. With a swift lunge he was well inside Toby¡¯s axe range, making the large two-handed weapon unusable. The battle had turned into a grapple, giving Julie an opportunity to contribute. While the two were locked and distracted, she drove her sword under the Two-eyes¡¯ chainmail shirt, skewering him deep through the guts. His stance faltered sending him down to the ground on his knees. His eyes bulged out in pain as he stared into Julie¡¯s soul with raging hatred. His agonizing scream made Julie recoil from her sword as if she was stung. With the sound of kindling cracking, the scream was cut off as Toby twisted the man¡¯s skull around with his bare hands.

    All that was left is the snarling man-wolf. Cornered against the back wall of the cave he was unperturbed by an endless stream of scorching fire and bolts being sent his way. Though badly burned and pockmarked by bolts, his wounds would heal as quickly as they were formed. His misery, however, was short lived as Toby charged through the flames, axe held high, and brought it down on the creature¡¯s neck. Blood gushed out of the stump in crimson spurts, making Julie seriously rethink her adventuring aspirations, and wish for days when she wouldn¡¯t have to stab someone through the gut and watch another being turned into a pincushion. Julie threw up her meager breakfast.

    With a dribble of vomit on her chin, and an acrid taste in her mouth, she tried and failed to retrieve her sword.

    ¡°Right pain in the arse those things are.¡± Ravenhair said. ¡°Makes me tired.¡± She strode over to Robert¡¯s body and yanked out the sword from the gut. A putrid stench came out with the sword, causing Julie to empty her stomach a second time. Ravenhair kicked the skull helmet off the corpse¡¯s head and pulled him up by the hair, exposing the mangled neck. ¡°You want to do the honors?¡± She asked Julie, and Toby offered her his axe.

    The taste of vomit in her mouth brought to mind her mother¡¯s years of morning sickness with her siblings.

    Julie was miserable, but it was her misery.

    <hr>

 Emile 2

    Emile was outside the inn, watching the birds in the trees. In the distance she could hear the sounds of children playing, and it annoyed her. She was carefully making notes in her journal about the birds. She cast an evil glance in the direction of the children who were playing a noisy game of tag, and studied her notes. All morning her pa had been hassling her to go outside, and so she had. She knew that he wanted her to try and talk to some of the local kids that were her age, but she had no desire.

    The sound of many hoofbeats broke her concentration, and she looked around for its origin. She ran around from the back of the inn to the front that faced what the small village considered their square. The king¡¯s road ran from north to south here, and it was the road that had allowed her family''s inn to be at all prosperous. The profits of the inn had always been rather inconsequential in the past, but these days it was all that kept Emile and Frederick fed.

    Riding in from the south she saw two people in ridiculous clothes leading a whole pack of horses. Every horse that wasn¡¯t being ridden was laden with sacks and bags, and one even had a small chest attached firmly to its back. Emile ran into the inn to tell her father about it. ¡°Pa! I think there¡¯s some nobles riding into town!¡±

    Frederick looked up from the floor he was scrubbing on his hands and knees with a heavy brown brush and sudsy water, ¡°Nobles eh? Did you get a look at the banners they were flying?¡±

    Emile glance back out through the doorway before answering, ¡°They¡¯re not flying any banners at all.¡±

    ¡°Then what makes you so sure they¡¯re nobles?¡±

    ¡°Cause they¡¯re dressed up all fancy!¡±

    ¡°Nobles always want you to know who they are. That¡¯s very important to nobles, banners and pennant and even fanfare sometimes.¡± He was looking at the floor again, scrubbing busily as he spoke, ¡°Well, is there a wagon with them? Maybe it¡¯s a group of merchants.¡±

    ¡°No, pa. No wagon. They do have a lot of stuff with them strapped to the backs of a bunch of horses.¡± She was craning her neck for a better look as she explained, ¡°They¡¯re heading over to the general store now.¡±

    Frederick stopped scrubbing and stood up. He stepped around the wet places on the floor and looked over Emile¡¯s head out the front door of the inn. He let out a long whistle, before pulling her inside and closing the door. ¡°Emile, I don¡¯t like the looks of those two. They look like a right lot of trouble.¡±

    ¡°Why do you say that pa?¡±

    ¡°Just a feeling, I guess. We¡¯ll know for sure soon enough, nobody passes through here without staying the night.¡± He thought of Julie as he said this and wondered idly if she was still alive, ¡°I mean, unless they¡¯re going to sleep rough.¡±

    Emile could barely contain her excitement. She loved all the travelers that passed through the town, they were rarely as boring as the people that lived here, ¡°May I go and see what they have, pa?¡± She asked.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know Emile, last time I let you go over to the general store on your own, you talked poor old Clyde into giving you half the stock for free!¡± Frederick said seriously.

    ¡°I gave it back, didn¡¯t I?¡± The tiny girl looked up at her father as innocently as she could, ¡°Anyway, I just want to see what they have with them, it looked like a lot of fancy stuff.¡±

    Frederick seemed to be considering the question when the door to the inn opened. Julie strode in looking beatdown and weary. Her back was overloaded. It looked like she had gone into a junk store and strapped everything they had for sell onto herself. She immediately started dropping things onto the still wet in some places floor.

    ¡°What happened to you, girl?¡±

    She wriggled out of her backpack, and let it fall on the floor, before collapsing down next to it. In her right hand she held a canvas sack that was stained a rusty brown-red. Emile wondered what it contained. She looked like a completely different person than the last time she had seen her. Emile wanted to ask her at least a million questions.

    ¡°Ale, or whatever. Water even. Please.¡± Julie looked like she was ready to fall asleep right there on the floor.

    Frederick was trying to help her up into a chair when he told Emile to get her some water, and a bottle of brandy from behind the bar. Emile rushed to do this, excited that she might get to hear Julie tell a real tale of heroism. She had realized quickly what the canvas sack must contain and was excited to hear about its acquisition.

    Julie drank the water in hurried gulps, and then made a face when she took a sip from the bottle of brandy that Frederick proffered to her. He asked her again, ¡°What happened to you?¡±

    Julie looked from Emiles expectant eyes and back to Fredericks before she answered, ¡°Don¡¯t want to talk about it. They said to bring everything to you, said you¡¯d help me get a fair price.¡±

    Frederick nodded knowingly, and said, ¡°Emile help me get this stuff sorted, let¡¯s see what she brought back with her.¡±

    Emile sprung into action. It was a pile of loot! She was surprised Julie had been able to carry it all. When she asked her about this, Julie said that she had dragged it most of the way. That explained why the backpack and most of the equipment was covered in mud. They began to sort it into piles on the floor. There were two longbows, but neither of them seemed like they would work without being strung again. Ten swords, all of which were very heavy, and one huge axe that was so heavy Emile couldn¡¯t lift it. There were two helmets that seemed to Emile to be only half a helmet, and there was a large set of chainmail.

    ¡°Well,¡± Frederick said, ¡°I don¡¯t rightly know what anyone around here would do with any of this. The smith might be able to make the swords and other metal farm equipment. Once you get yourself under control you ought to head over there and take Emile with you.¡±

    Julie had been staring at the canvas sack in her hand, and looked at Frederick, ¡°They said that I ought to get you to help me get a fair price.¡± She said, sounding tired.

    Frederick smiled at this, ¡°No one is going to help you get a better price than my daughter.¡± He said with conviction, ¡°As for what¡¯s in that sack, you ought to get that over to the magistrate as soon as you can.¡±

    Julie stood up and looked at the spoils of her battle spread out on the floor. ¡°I¡¯m so tired, can I rest a bit before we have to carry it all again.¡±

    Emile offered to help, and Frederick said that she could rest in one of the rooms once everything was moved from the common room. He said that the three of them would load everything into the handcart out back.

 Julie 2

    Julie awoke with a start. She had been dreaming vividly. She could not remember the details, but it had left her shaken. She reached for the handle of her sword, leaning precariously against the bedside table. The room in the inn was cozy but small. She had not been under the blankets, having fallen asleep fully clothed on top of the quilt. She ran a curious hand through her hair, and was surprised at how quickly in was trapped in the blonde tangles.

    It was torchlight dancing through the only window in the wall. Slept away the whole afternoon, she thought. All worries about time were quickly chased away by the roar of her stomach demanding food. There was a delectable smell creeping under the door. Julie gathered her meager possessions and followed the smell to back to the stairwell.

    From the top of the stairs she could see the room was abuzz with noise. Conversations merged into ambient background noise.

    She made her way down the stairs that let out into the main room, and saw two people standing near the entrance, arguing with the innkeeper. They were the most extravagantly dressed people she had ever seen. She wondered if they were husband and wife, and realized quickly that they must be brother and sister. The man was wearing trousers of robin egg blue, with intricate gold patterns weaving up the seams, sparkling in the firelight. His jacket was a deep red, and ended in two long tails that almost touched the ground. A puffy white shirt covered in strange silver frills poked up from under the jacket, and upon his head was a gigantic wide brimmed hat with a huge grey feather sticking out jauntily from the top.

    The woman who was standing next to him wore a brilliant green dress, that was slashed up the side almost to her waist. Beneath the dress were black leggings, and at her waist was a brilliant silver corset. She also wore a frilly white shirt with the same silver frills. Her shirt went all the way up to her neck, and she wore a black cap upon her head jauntily tilted to one side.

    As Julie got closer she began to notice things that the clothing had distracted her from at first. Both of the strangers had a sunken look about their faces, and their eyes seemed to be set too deep in their faces. They were arguing with the inn¡¯s owner, but they seemed to have a permanently hunted look about them. Their skin was sallow and covered in a light dusting of white powder that seemed like it needed to be reapplied, or just removed.

    The innkeep strode forward, and swept the door they¡¯d just walked through open, ¡°You two aren¡¯t welcome here. It¡¯s not my town, but this is my inn, and my home. I don¡¯t have any rooms available for you.¡± The innkeep was the same that Julie had spoken to earlier that day, and yet now he seemed like a completely different person. He seemed older, and there was no humor left in his eyes.

    ¡°Please, I¡¯m sure that you¡¯ll find that we¡¯ve more than enough money to pay for a night¡¯s lodging. We¡¯re only asking for a room, we won¡¯t spend any time out here with your clientele, and we won¡¯t ask for any food to be brought to our room. We¡¯ll be out of here come the morrow, kind sir.¡± It was the woman who was speaking. She had a strange accent, trilling and lilting. All of the vowels seemed to be drawn and quartered as they left her mouth.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure that the likes of you wouldn¡¯t need any food. The answer is still no.¡± The man behind the bar seemed agitated with the strangers, and Julie was beginning to feel uncomfortable listening to the argument. The rest of the room had grown silent suddenly, and all eyes seemed to be focused on the confrontation.

    The strange man spoke, pleading, ¡°We gave you the egg! It must be worth a fortune! We gave it to you for a pittance, now all we ask is that you rent us a room for the night, we¡¯ve nowhere else to sleep. We¡¯ll leave in the morning.¡± Frederick was ushering the unresisting couple through the door as they tried to plead their case. To her surprise, he followed them outside, and shut the door behind him. As soon as the door was closed, a half dozen conversations started up again as if they¡¯d never stopped.

    Julie decided that it would not be a good time to ask the innkeeper for anything. Emile must be around here somewhere, she could get me a plate of food, She thought, and maybe tell me what¡¯s going on. She began scanning the common room for the mop of red fluff. The girl was nowhere to be seen. She made her way over to the bar, and saw the tiny girl sitting on the floor, cradling something shiny in her lap.

    The girl didn¡¯t seem to notice her, so Julie made her way behind the bar, and crouched down. ¡°Hey, Emile! What have you got there?¡±

    The freckle-faced girl looked startled. ¡°Oh! Julie, you¡¯re awake! Look!¡± She held the object of her affection at arms length for Julie to examine.

    It was an egg as big as the girl¡¯s head, maybe bigger. Multifaceted and glistening like the crystals that sometimes formed in rocks. Intricate, every shade of green that Julie could think of blending and merging into each other. It seemed to capture the light and make it sing. Julie kept seeing images form and vanish on the surface, almost like paintings come to life.

    ¡°That¡¯s beautiful, Emile! I was wondering if you could help me find something to eat.¡± Julie asked, sincerely stricken by the beauty of the egg.

    ¡°Oh! Of course,¡± The girl looked thoughtful for a moment, hugging the egg close to her chest, ¡°We just have to put this away first.¡± She stood up quickly and strode purposefully away. After a few steps, she turned around and looked at Julie who hadn¡¯t moved. ¡°Come on! You still haven¡¯t told me about killing Robert Two-eyes!¡±

    She started following the happy girl automatically, and considered the question. She had not thought of the morning¡¯s activities since she had woken up. Now it all came back to her. I don¡¯t really feel like a hero. She was trying to think of how much of the story she could actually tell the little girl.

    In the pregnant silence, Emile said ¡°Pa told me not to, but I peeked. I¡¯ve seen that man before. I didn¡¯t like him. No one did.¡± The girl seemed to be happy to hold up both sides of the conversation, leading Julie through a back hallway of the inn. They reached a door dressed with feathers hung decoratively, if haphazardly. ¡°This is my room. Do you like those feathers? I found them out in the forest, and I¡¯ve identified most of them.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Julie looked the door up and down, and thought of her empty stomach. She said, ¡°They¡¯re very nice. Uh, I like the purple ones¡±

    Emile seemed excited at this, ¡°Oh! Me too! The lavender bush sparrows come through every year, and I got a couple of their feathers this spring.¡± The girl opened the door with one hand, and hugged the egg protectively to her chest with the other.

    Julie did not know exactly what she had been expecting, but what confronted her was certainly different. The room didn¡¯t look like any little girl¡¯s room Julie had ever seen. She thought back to her room back on the farm when she was that age, with her two dolls she had helped her mother make. Her stitching projects that seemed to be unending, and her flower and stone collection. Julie had never seen so many books in one place. Her family only owned one, a book they had purchased from the god peddler, it was much cheaper than getting a blank book, and her father had used it as a ledger to keep track of trades for their crops.

    A single piece of paper had once cost her family a pound of wheat and a fat hen. Here there were so many pieces of paper strewn about, crumpled in the corners, and crowding under foot. Some were pinned up to the walls with pictures of birds and animals, with notes in tiny writing at the edges. Julie knew how to read, her parents had made sure that all of their children had learned. They said that pieces of paper could be worse than a sword to your throat if you marked your X on one without knowing what it said.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen so many books!¡± Julie wanted to ask where it all came from, this was wealth untold.

    Emile had lovingly placed the egg on the floor next to the stone hearth in the corner, and was picking up a blanket, ¡°Really? We have more upstairs, if you want to read some. These are just the ones I¡¯m reading. Pa let¡¯s anyone in town borrow books if they want to read.¡± She paused and thought about it, ¡°Usually people don¡¯t like going up to top floor where the library is. Mother Maia goes up there all the time though.¡± Emile was wrapping the egg up in the blanket.

    Julie did not know how to respond. The world is so much different than I ever imagined, she thought, ¡°Why are you wrapping that in a blanket?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want her to get cold. She doesn¡¯t like being cold. I don¡¯t like being cold either.¡±

    ¡°She? What¡¯s her name?¡±

    Emile walked over and grabbed Julie¡¯s hand, ¡°I don¡¯t know her name, silly, I haven¡¯t met her yet. Didn¡¯t you say you were hungry?¡±

    <hr>

    Julie had slept much better the second time, with a stomach full of heavy food. The tub that they had let her use didn¡¯t need to be filled with buckets, and the water came out piping hot! She was beginning to feel like she was in a castle that was just shaped like shabby inn. The morning light was filtering through the window. She luxuriated in the blankets for a few minutes. Finally she pulled herself from the soft bed, and slipped into wonderfully clean underclothes for the first time in weeks.

    Downstairs, fresh baked bread, bacon and eggs greeted her, and wished her a good morning. She ate with the appetite of three. Emile interrogated her, ¡°Did those three adventurers help you very much? Pa said he had at least ten up there. That¡¯s a lot to fight all on your own.¡±

    Julie chewed her food and almost choked when she realized if not for Emile, she would have gone in there alone. ¡°That was you that sent them after me?¡±

    Emile beamed at her, ¡°No! It was pa! I knew you could do it, but it¡¯s always nice to have people helping you. People always seem to want to help me too.¡±

    Frederick swept in on his way between chores, and said amiably, ¡°If you¡¯ve finished eating me out of house and home, I believe you ladies had a chore to attend to this morning. Old Clyde¡¯s probably got the shop open for business by now, and I¡¯m sure he¡¯d appreciate it if you got your dickering done while you had the place to yourself.¡±

    Julie finished eating quickly. ¡°You¡¯re right! Thank you for the meal, and, well everything really.¡±

    Frederick smiled at her, ¡°Oh, we¡¯ll square up later.¡± He gathered the plates from the table, and made his way to the kitchen.

    Julie followed Emile out to the stable, and Julie carefully took the canvas sack with the trophy out of the handcart, and left it in the stall. She wheeled the cart awkwardly after Emile who skipped across the street, and straight into the shop. Julie stopped at the door, and walked in to see an old man appearing to cower behind his counter at the sight of the little red haired girl.

    The man seemed to be trying to find a place to hide behind his counter, and failing, ¡°Oy! I thought yeh pa said he wasn¡¯t gonna be sendin¡¯ you over here no more!¡±

    Emile seemed oblivious to his behavior, ¡°Oh, it¡¯s all right. I¡¯m not here to buy anything. My friend Julie has a lot of swords and things you¡¯ll be able to sell to the king''s armory.¡±

    The man did not seem mollified, if anything he seemed even more agitated, ¡°Oh, really!¡± Now he seemed to be noticing Julie who laid the first two swords on the counter, ¡°Fine weapons these are?¡± He directed his question at Julie, pronouncing ¡®fine¡¯ so that it rhymed with coin, ¡°I don¡¯t know if anybody¡¯s goin¡¯ to want these. These set for scrap?¡±

    Julie started to respond when Emile interrupted her, ¡°These were Robert Twoeye¡¯s swords! He seemed to use them just fine!¡±

    Julie looked at the little girl, surprised, and said, ¡°Well, actually I think he just used the axe. Hang on I¡¯ll bring it in next. I have a lot more.¡± She went to retrieve it.

    Julie struggled through the door, scratching the frame with the long blade of the axe. She looked up startled, expecting to be rebuked, but Clyde didn¡¯t seem to notice. He was staring at Emile with a vacant expression, and nodding. ¡°Yer right I s¡¯pose. Be able to sell all this stuff to old Jameson up in Ravina. He can fix it up right good and sell it fer a profit ¡®imself.¡±

    ¡°So ten gold for each sword sword and the bows?¡± Emile cooed.

    ¡°Sounds fair,¡± Clyde nodded.

    ¡°And fifteen for the big axe.¡± Emile said, waving at Julie to bring it over.

    Julie shrugged, and half drag the axe up to the counter. She surreptitiously glanced at the hardwood floor and was grateful she didn¡¯t see any more scratches. Ten gold! For each sword!

    ¡°Aye, seems like it¡¯d be worth it. Sure.¡± The man was still nodding, he didn¡¯t even glance up at the axe.

    Julie was growing more excited with every word. Maybe this adventuring thing won¡¯t be so bad after all. Her mind decided to bring up the werewolf, and she pushed that thought down with all of her strength. ¡°I have some armor too, I¡¯ll bring that in next.¡± She headed back out the door to grab the helmets and the chainmail. She had considered keeping the chainmail, but when she tried it on it had made her feel like a child in her father¡¯s coat.

    When she returned for the third time, Clyde was unlocking a metal box. He began counting out gold onto the countertop. Julie realized she¡¯d forgotten to tell him that some of the payment would be in trade. This was happening much faster than she had expected. She imagined it would go like her families trips to the market days, with haggling on both sides. ¡°Hey, wait,¡± she said, ¡°There¡¯s a lot of stuff I need here for the road.¡±

    Emile looked at her and smiled, ¡°Well you¡¯ve got a hundred and fifty gold to work with, so get everything you need!¡±

 Emile 3

    Emile was having so much fun, but she kept thinking about the egg. This was turning out to be one of the most interesting days in the past year. After Julie went to turn the trophy into the magistrate, Mother Maia showed up to borrow a book. She said that Norm and Leroy had a foal gone ill and that she needed to double check something she was sure she already knew.

    Emile was always glad to see Mother Maia, ¡°I want to show you something,¡± she said, grabbing the old woman¡¯s hand, ¡°It¡¯s in my room. I think you¡¯ll really like it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll have to wait, child,¡± Mother Maia was already reaching into her deep pockets for a sweet, ¡°but you can come with me and see the foals, if you¡¯re pa doesn¡¯t mind that is.¡±

    Frederick was in the kitchen, folding and kneading dough. He spoke through the little window that let out into the bar, ¡°You should go Emile, you spend too much time cooped up in this place.¡±

    Emile wanted to see the foals, but she didn¡¯t want to see them today. She was thinking about the egg again, and already wondering if she should turn her again. Emile didn¡¯t like the idea of the egg being warmed on one side for too long. ¡°I think I¡¯d rather wait here,¡± she said, ¡°for when Julie gets back.¡±

    It didn¡¯t take long for that to happen. She had just barely turned the egg and sat it back carefully in its blanket nest, when Julie ran in crying. She could hear her all the way from the hall, and Emile darted to the common room to find out what the problem was.

    ¡°And then he said,¡± Julie was getting the words out between choking sobs, ¡°that I must have stolen the sack from some real adventurers, and I was lucky he didn¡¯t have me arrested!¡±

    Frederick let out a long whistle between his teeth, and said ¡°Ahh, lordy. Sounds like Brutus is on one today,¡± he looked around and his gaze fell on Emile, ¡°oh, good, thought you were holed up in your room. Come on, Emile, we¡¯re going to see the honorable and just magistrate.¡± He produced a short oak club tipped in iron from beneath the bar, and strode purposefully over to the door.

    Julie looked startled by all this, and wiped her eyes and said, ¡°I don¡¯t know if you should go and talk to him. He was really angry.¡±

    Frederick seemed to stifle a laugh and said, ¡°I¡¯m sure he was, but don¡¯t you worry about me. Or Emile for that matter,¡± he looked at his daughter with a smirk, ¡°you ready to go little lady?¡±

    Emile was worried. She wasn¡¯t worried at all about the magistrate, he wasn¡¯t a very nice man. Emile was worried about the egg, she didn¡¯t want to be away from it for very long. She said, ¡°We¡¯ll get your money, Julie, it won¡¯t take a minute!¡± and crossed the room to stand next to her father by the door.

    The unlikely trio made their way through the town, and to the old cobblestone building that passed for a courthouse. It was squat with big boulders for the foundation, and looked incredibly shabby compared to Frederick¡¯s inn.

    Frederick shouldered his way through the hewn timber door to the anteroom. There was a weasley, haggard old woman sitting behind a desk knitting. She looked very surprised to see Julie again, and with such sour company. ¡°The magistrate isn¡¯t seeing anyone else today,¡± she croaked, ¡°and I don¡¯t think he wants to see you ever again.¡± She cast a pointed look at Julie.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Frederick rolled his eyes and said, ¡°I¡¯m sure he doesn¡¯t,¡± he crossed the room and banged on the door to the right with the iron end of his club, ¡°Brutus! Get your pants back on! You¡¯re going to talk to us, right now!¡±

    A thin squeaky voice, nothing like the voice that Julie heard a few minutes before said, ¡°Frederick?¡± and this was followed with hurried rustling sounds. A second later the bolt was thrown open and a half dressed woman came rushing out of the room holding the rest of her clothes to her chest.

    Emile recognized her as one of the regulars at the inn, and called out to her as she was halfway out the door, ¡°Jenny?¡±

    The woman stopped, and looked back surprised, ¡°Oh. Um, hi Emile.¡± She waved and hurried out the door, closing it behind her. Frederick didn¡¯t even look back.

    The magistrate was standing in front of his desk, his clothes looked rumpled and his face was red. Well more red than normal. Emile always thought that he looked like a squashed beet. She had never seen him inside the inn, but she had seen him around town. He was always breathing hard like he¡¯d been running, though she had never seen him actually run. Her father always called him names, but Emile thought he was the saddest person she¡¯d ever met. Except for maybe the people she¡¯d gotten the egg from.

    The man was trying to flatten the wrinkles out of his clothes as he spoke, ¡°You¡¯re not really here for that girl are you?¡±

    Frederick reached for the parcel he had tucked in his belt. He threw the heavy envelope with the magistrate¡¯s seal on the floor in front of Brutus. The magistrate¡¯s eyes followed it down and then snapped back up to Frederick¡¯s eyes. The innkeeper met his stare and said, ¡°That¡¯s your seal on there is it not?¡±

    The already sweaty man started looking uncomfortable, and seemed to be looking for anything else in the room to look at, ¡°Well, times have changed in the last two days,¡± he began making his way behind his desk seeming to want something between him and the angry innkeeper, ¡°I can¡¯t be held responsible! You should have seen what king Curt- I¡¯m mean Everard, has been sending my way!¡±

    Frederick was nonplussed, ¡°I saw the guards come in last night, and we can discuss that at the next town meeting. That¡¯s not what I asked you. I asked you if that¡¯s your seal on that writ of bounty.¡±

    The man made his way back around the desk, to a shelf laden with bottles and glasses on the wall. He began trying to pour himself a shaky drink and said, ¡°Well, it¡¯s not as if Robert Two-eyes is really a problem anymore. In the face of all this royal pressure.¡±

    Emile was getting more and more anxious, this was taking much too long. She needed to get back and check on the egg. ¡°He¡¯s not a problem anymore,¡± she said, ¡°because Julie killed him!¡±

    The red-faced man snorted derisively, and said, ¡°That little trollop? She hardly looks qualified to earn money on her back, let alone at the end of a sword!¡±

    Emile was done. She reached for the sling at her belt, and faster than anyone else could react, she whipped a palm sized stone across the room.

    Brutus Hedgford doubled over in pain. His drink fell to the floor and shattered in a spray of glass and bourbon, foul smelling fumes rose up from the debris. The drinks we serve never smell like that, it must be really cheap stuff. Emile walked casually across the room, and looked down at the man doubled up, with his hands on his groin. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this,¡± she said in a soft and silky voice, ¡°you need to fulfill the contract. And now you need to apologize to my friend for being rude.¡±

    His eyes glazed over, and he stood up slowly. ¡°Of course, I¡¯m very sorry. I meant no offense,¡± he made his way behind the desk, ¡°let me open the safe, and you can be on your way.¡±

 Julie 3

    Julie was making her way north along the king¡¯s road. Her mind kept trying to dart back to the blood, but she shook it off with a jerking tremor in her hands. It had to be done. They were villains and she brought them to justice, just like the heroes in the stories always did. She adjusted the straps on her leather backpack and forced herself to smile. Thinking of the magistrate doubled over in pain clutching at his groin was enough to make it a real smile. At least for a moment.

    The road here was wide enough for two carts to pass each other. She¡¯d been heading north for nearly an hour, and hadn¡¯t seen any other travelers. She wondered if she was going to be able to catch up to Ravenhair, Sevil, and Toby. She wondered if they had just been humoring her when they told her to meet them. They probably just sent me back to get rid of me. A pestering voice in her mind kept trying to tell her she should cut her losses and go home. She had enough money in her pouches that she could probably start her own farm. The thought of farming was more sickening than the memory of the blood racing down her hands. Barely.

    On either side of her, the road was flanked with dense foliage. The trees here were heavy pines. She couldn¡¯t see very far into the forest, and could not hear the sounds of movement through the wind whistling in the trees. A pair of filthy men stepped from the forest in front of her. They were large, and grubby. Neither was wearing a shirt, and she noticed that the pants they wore seemed to be made of burlap sacking, tied at the waist and ankles with rope. She stood downwind of them, and they had a rotten smell of sour alcohol and unwashed bodies. The larger of the two spoke, ¡°Alright girl, that¡¯s far enough. Time to give back that money you stole from the magistrate.¡±

    Julie looked from one leering face to the other. They put her in the mind of weasels, with thin narrow faces, close set eyes, and red stubble on their cheeks. Neither man seemed to be carrying a weapon. Her hand went to the hilt of her shortsword. ¡°I didn¡¯t steal anything. The magistrate gave me a reward! I brought a villain to justice.¡±

    The smaller of the two men took a step towards her now. ¡°Right, and I never stole a thing in my life neither. But you¡¯re gonna give us that money, ya ken?¡± He reached out to touch her, and before he could she took a step backwards and drew her sword.

    ¡°I¡¯m not giving you anything!¡± She said, holding her sword out. ¡°I¡¯m warning you, don¡¯t come any closer!¡±

    ¡°Or what?¡± The shorter of the two men leered at her, ¡°Jeb do you think we could have a bit of fun with her?¡± The smaller man lunged at her, his hands flailing out to grab her. Reflexively she pushed the sword into his midsection. He let out a horrible gurgling sound.

    The larger man took several steps backwards and said, ¡°What the blazes did you do that fer? Crazy wench!¡±

    ¡°She stabbed me, Jeb! She stabbed me!¡± The shorter man was clawing at the blade, and Julie gave it a sharp twist before she pulled it out, letting blood from his hands mingle with that from his gut. Ravenhair had told her that she needed to be quick to twist and pull with a shortsword. She said that stabbing was all well and good but letting the weight of an opponent¡¯s body drag the sword from you hand could be the last thing you ever did. Julie held the bloodied blade in front of her in a defensive posture, her heart was pounding and her mouth tasted like dry copper. She thought the larger man was going to attack her. Instead he dropped to his knees and was cradling his companions head in his hands. The smaller of the two men was making gurgling noises and coughing up blood.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be alright, Mervin! We¡¯ll get you fixed up!¡± The larger man was cooing to his bleeding partner, ¡°We¡¯ll get you to the midwife, and she¡¯ll fix you up.¡±

    ¡°Jeb, I¡¯m cold,¡± Mervin¡¯s voice was growing weaker as his lifeblood spilled out onto the road and turned the dust into mud, ¡°Tell mama I love her.¡±

    Julie wasn¡¯t sure how to react to this situation, she thought it might be a ploy. ¡°Are you going to leave me alone now!¡± She screamed.

    ¡°You¡¯re crazy! Bleeding mad, you are! You killed my brother! His blood is on your hands!¡± The man was beginning to sound deranged, he stood up now and stared at Julie with eyes full of horror, at his feet his brother continued to make choking noises.

    ¡°Well, you attacked me! What did you expect to happen!¡± Julie was enraged by this turn of events.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! We wasn¡¯t going to kill you! We were just going to rough you up a bit, and take back the money.¡± He looked around like a trapped animal, ¡°I¡¯ll go for help Mervin, we¡¯ll get you fixed up.¡± With that promise, he darted for the treeline like a frightened hare.

    Julie was taken aback. The man, Mervin, was turning a ghastly pale color at her feet. She couldn¡¯t leave him like this, to bleed to death on the road like an injured animal. There was a long bolt of cloth she¡¯d purchased at the store, and she cut a length of it off. She stuffed it into the man¡¯s gaping wound, and made her way into the trees. She looked for saplings cutting them down with the hatchet Emile had suggested she buy, and carrying them back to the road in a bundle.

    ¡°This is better than you deserve.¡± She said, laying the saplings out on the road next to each other. She laid the two longest sapling lengthwise, and then began fastening three smaller ones to them to make crossbars. She tested her makeshift sledge, pulling on the runners, and satisfied with her work, she rolled the man over and onto the litter. ¡°Better than you deserve.¡± She repeated when he let out a startled gasp.

    Progress now became grueling and slow. It took all her strength to get moving, and most of it to keep going. The runners were thin and dragging the man on the road was arduous. He still let out the occasional horrible gurgling noises, and sputtered blood leaving a gruesome trail in their wake. The sticks kept sliding out of her hands, and the bark was rough on her skin. She was considering stopping long enough to try and rig up better handles, when she saw a man walking on the road leading an animal in the distance.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Hail!¡± She called out to the stranger.

    The man waved back to her, and continued making his way towards her. When she got close enough to make out some detail, she realized that the man must be a charcoal burner. His clothing was covered in soot, and his hands and faced to seemed to be stained black. He asked, ¡°What seems to be the trouble?¡± With the casual air of one who sees men bleeding to death on roads everyday.

    Julie let go of the litter and made her way over to the man. ¡°Please, you have to help me, he¡¯s injured.¡± She implored.

    ¡°What happened?¡± The man asked, taking in the gristly scene.

    ¡°He was stabbed. In the gut. I think he¡¯s going to die, is there someone we can take him to nearby?¡±

    The man stepped closer and looked at the scene over Julie¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Oy! That¡¯s Mervin, one of the magistrate¡¯s mad dogs. I knew it wouldn¡¯t be long before someone put him down. Merciful thing to do would be just to finish the job. Gut wounds never heal.¡±

    ¡°No! We can¡¯t!¡± Julie looked shocked at this callous indifference.

    ¡°Well,¡± the man tucked his thumbs into his pockets as he spoke, ¡°I suppose we could take him to Clara, the old witch woman what lives up the road a ways. I could hitch your little up to Jezebel here. Still, I think we should just put ¡®em down.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not going to ¡®put him down!¡¯ He¡¯s a human being, not some rabid dog.¡± Julie was beginning to wonder if the man was right, but she knew she had to stick to her convictions. Heroes always did the right thing, even by their enemies.

    ¡°Right then, if you insist.¡± The two of them used some rope to attach the sledge to the man¡¯s donkey. They began making their way north again, and Julie tried to pass the time with idle conversation. Every subject she broached with the man was met with one word answers or grunts. He was a charcoal burner, on his way to sell his charcoal in Kentvale. He had no interest in knowing what Julie was doing, where she was going or where she had been.

    After half an hour of traveling in near silence, only interrupted by the occasional sound of blood being coughed up, the man stopped and pointed into the forest. ¡°Clara keeps a little cottage in the trees a ways, maybe half a mile off the main road. I¡¯ve taken you this far, but you¡¯re going to have to make the rest of the trip on your own. Suns going to be going down soon and I ain¡¯t going to be caught on this road at night. Tain¡¯t safe.¡±

    Julie thanked the man for his help, and he continued back on his way south. Pulling the litter through the trees was much harder than it had been on the road. Every few steps she had to stop and untangle the sledge from the roots and undergrowth. Her hands were cut and laden with splinters. She would leave Mervin, and scout ahead looking for the clearest path between the trees, then double back and force the sledge and the man through the woods. More than once she had to push him off the sledge entirely to dislodge it and then roll him back onto it. Mervin was white as a sheet by the time the thin trail of smoke became visible. Julie ran up ahead towards it and saw a neat little cottage with flagstone walls and a thatch roof.

    There was a woman in front of it, on her hands and knees pulling the weeds from a small herb garden. Julie sprinted over to her, and asked, ¡°Please, are you Clara?¡± She gasped for air and continued without waiting for an answer, ¡°You have to help me!¡±

    ¡°I might be Clara and I might not, but I certainly don¡¯t have to help you child.¡± The woman stood up and dusted the dirt off her heavy work pants. She looked Julie up and down.

    ¡°Please,¡± Julie implored pointing back the way she¡¯d came, ¡°There¡¯s a man over there, and he¡¯s going to die!¡±

    ¡°Ahh,¡± said Clara, ¡°I see. Friend of yours is he?¡±

    ¡°Well, no. Actually he was trying to rob me.¡± Julie was beginning to feel exasperated, and she realized how thirsty she was.

    ¡°Rob you eh? Then why would you want me to help him?¡±

    ¡°Because it¡¯s the right thing to do! We can¡¯t just let him die!¡± Julie was stifling a sob as she said this, and she could feel tears in her eyes.

    Clara placed a hand reassuring on Julie¡¯s shoulder and said, ¡°Come child, let¡¯s see if there¡¯s anything I can do.¡±

    The two women, made their way back through the trees to where Julie had left Mervin. It was much easier to pull the sledge with the old woman¡¯s help, and there was even a footpath leading up to the cottage that Julie hadn¡¯t noticed at first. She had tried to ask Clara if he was going to survive as soon as they had reached him. Clara just shook her head and said that she¡¯d have to examine him.

    They brought him into Clara¡¯s cottage, and in spite of the situation Julie was taken aback by the show of wealth. There were many books lining the walls, at least a dozen, and the furniture all seemed to be very well made. The kitchen was clean, and together they moved a table and laid him out of the kitchen floor. Julie had expected a bed and asked why they were leaving him on the floor.

    Clara gave her a long look before she answered, ¡°Child, this man¡¯s bleeding like a stuck pig, and once I pull this rag out of the hole in his stomach, he¡¯s going to spray like a fountain if there¡¯s any life left in him at all. It¡¯s easier to clean the hardwood floor than to replace my sheets.¡± She removed the saturated cloth from the wound, and placed it in an earthenware bowl, ¡°This is not your home, and you are barely a guest here. Can you even pay me for my services?¡±

    Julie¡¯s hand went to her money pouch, and she started to untie it, ¡°I can pay you-¡± She started to say before she was cut off.

    ¡°Heaven¡¯s name, child! A sack of chips as heavy as that one looks should not just be dangling from your belt, are you stupid?¡± The woman¡¯s hands were stained red now, but in spite of what she said the man wasn¡¯t spraying blood like a fountain, it was barely a trickle now.

    Julie thought of Frederick offering to hold on to the better part of her money when she had left the inn. There was no doubt in her mind that she could trust him, but she needed to buy the things that Ravenhair had suggested, and they simply weren¡¯t for sale in the tiny town of Kentvale. She had strapped the coin purse to her belt without giving it a second thought. She felt a pang of shame being chided like a child by this old woman. ¡°How much do you need?¡± Julie asked and added, ¡°To save him.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I can save him, and he¡¯s bleeding all over my floor.¡± The woman seemed to have forgotten about the question of payment, ¡°Help me move him to scullery, it¡¯ll be easier to wash up in there.¡±

    Julie was beginning to feel uncomfortable about the whole situation. She had expected the woman to be kind and helpful, but she was rude and insulting. ¡°Look, if you can¡¯t do anything to help him, maybe I should take him and go.¡± She said trying to sound confident about the idea.

    ¡°You won¡¯t get far, child.¡± Clara stood up and washed began washing the blood off her hands in a basin of water. ¡°Best thing I can do for him is give him something to ease the pain and make him comfortable.¡± She dried her hands on a towel and began rummaging in her cupboards. It didn¡¯t take long for her to reveal a glass jar, it was filled with black berries and strange looking roots. ¡°Do you want me to help him, to make him comfortable?¡± The old woman asked solemnly.

    ¡°I just want to do the right thing,¡± Julie said feeling defeated.

 Emile 4

    It really was beautiful. Emile held the egg in her hands, possessed by it. She turned it this way and that. Light was captured in its surface, held in a glorious splendor, and then released all over the walls and floor of the inn. She had always felt somewhat alone, though she loved her father. With the egg in her hands, she felt like there was meaning and purpose to her life now. Oh how she wished it would hatch. She knew that if it did she would finally have a friend, a real friend. The egg seemed to hum in her hands sometimes, and sometimes she could feel something moving under the surface.

    Since she managed to convince her father to purchase it from the well dressed travellers, she had spent every free moment with it in her hands. During the day was the best, when the sun was shining in through one of the windows, and she could hold the egg in the warmth of the sunbeam. At night when she wasn¡¯t busy with the guests at the tables or cleaning up she would cradle it in her hands near the fire. She would sit as close as she could stand and stare mystified into the beautiful emerald surface.

    After the second day of this behavior Frederick had started to worry. He retrieved his wife¡¯s thaumalogical field detector and had performed a cursory examination for enchantments. This wasn¡¯t like Emile to let her attention be held by a bauble. Still, he thought, she has a hard life here, and she must be lonely. I¡¯ve done the best I can given the circumstances, but there¡¯s only so much a man can do raising his daughter on his own like this. And with that declaration to himself, he pushed his worries down. If it made her happy, and it wasn¡¯t enchanted, he didn¡¯t see what harm could come from it.

    Now he looked over at her from his place behind the bar, he was polishing the glasses again, though they were spotless already. Idly he fidgeted with the glass in his hand and cleared his throat before he spoke, ¡°Emile, it¡¯s such a nice day, and we have an hour before lunch, do you really want to spend it sitting in that chair inside? You know I¡¯m going to need your help for the lunch service.¡±

    ¡°Yes, pa. I¡¯ll help with lunch. I always do.¡± She lifted her gaze from the glistening jewel like surface of the egg and cast him a smile that didn¡¯t reach her eyes, and immediately returned to examining the egg.

    ¡°I just thought, you know, you might want to play outside?¡± Frederick was crossing the room now, ¡°I mean, it¡¯s really very pretty but you¡¯ve been staring at that thing since we got it.¡±

    ¡°Yes pa, staring.¡± She fumbled for more words at this and kept turning the egg over in her hands, watching the light dance on it.

    ¡°Well, why don¡¯t you let me put that somewhere very safe for you, and you go on outside.¡± He reached out to take the beautiful egg with both hands from where it rested on the table.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know pa, I think I¡¯d rather just stay inside and look at it some more. I mean, it¡¯s mine right?¡± She spoke with so little inflection in her voice that it sent chills through his spine.

    ¡°Well, if that¡¯s really what you want-¡± He was cut off abruptly and in his shock he dropped the jeweled egg on the floor. ¡°It moved!¡±

    Both sets of eyes followed the egg as it fell from the height of the table to the hardwood floor. In the split second before impact Frederick both wished that the egg would be broken and at the same time that it was unharmed. In a way, both wishes came true. The egg hit the floor with almost a soft leathery sound, not the shattering sound he had been bracing himself for. Cracks spread very slowly across the glistening surface, and there was definitely something moving inside it.

    Frederick bent at the waist for a closer look, and the only thing that saved Emile was the fact that she was sitting down. A tiny green snout covered in fine scales poked out from between the splitting fragments. Brilliant jade eyes followed the snout; then a burst of green vapor that made Emile think of a kettle boiling.

    ¡°Back!¡± Frederick shouted, and almost immediately started coughing, lunging out with his hand in time to push Emile back in her chair. Then he froze. He toppled over in a way that would have been comical had it not been so terrifying. Emile was no stranger to stories about ferocious and dangerous beasts. She¡¯d be secretly hoping that everyone was wrong and the egg would hatch. Watching her father plummet to the floor, without so much as reaching his hands out to brace for the fall, made her wish she could take all of those hopes back.

    She was stunned. But not for long. She backed up in the chair as far as she could, and ran behind the bar. The creature had completed its escape from the egg now, and was stretching itself out on the floor. It seemed to be covered in some sort of ooze, but even that couldn¡¯t detract from the luminescent splendor of its hide in the sunlight. Beneath the bar was a lockbox, and from inside it Emile produced a scroll bound with a leather strap. She stopped short on her way back to her father on the floor, and grabbed the still wet cloth from the counter where he¡¯d been polishing the now forgotten glassware. The cloth was just big enough that she could hastily tie it in front of her face.

    ¡°Right!¡± She said to no one in particular, and she cautiously approached the creature and her immobilized father. ¡°Now don¡¯t be afraid, little dragon, I¡¯m not going to hurt you.¡± She was absentmindedly speaking as she crept closer and closer. She unrolled the scroll, and the words on the page burned themselves off as she read near silently, her mouth forming the words of the incantation. Brilliant white light radiated from her hands, and she dropped the now blank scroll. She dropped both hands together on her father¡¯s chest, and for a moment she felt his whole body jerk. The white light seemed to drain from her hands into his body, and his pallid cheeks filled with color once more. Beneath her hands she felt the reassuring rise of his chest. Relief was short lived however, when his chest did not begin to fall again for the span of what felt like minutes to Emile.

    The little green dragon surreptitiously nuzzled her hand, and she automatically ran her hand across its scaly head. ¡°I know you didn¡¯t mean it,¡± tears were forming in her eyes now, and her voice hitched, ¡°but I think you really hurt my pa.¡±

    The dragon looked up at her, into her eyes, and in them she saw no malice. Her seven year old heart swelled. There was no room in such a heart for thoughts of anger or revenge, especially against an unthinking animal. She was still resting her hands on her father¡¯s chest, her sobs becoming more prominent now, when she noticed that his chest was falling and rising. Just very, very slowly. Almost imperceptibly.

    ¡°The healing hands scroll must have worked, just not well enough! That means he¡¯s not dead! He just needs to get better.¡± With the back of her arm, she wiped the tears from her eyes.

    The door swung open, and the sound of boots on the floor jarred her from her reverie. A stocky man with ruddy skin sauntered in atop heavy boots. The door slammed shut behind him, and the sounds all felt horrid and amplified to Emile in her current state. The dragon scurried behind the bar, spooked by the activity. ¡°Emile, what¡¯s that rag on your face! And where¡¯s-¡± The man noticed Frederick sprawled out on the floor now looking like so much discarded refuse, ¡°Oh lordy, what happened here child!¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°My pa needs help.¡± Emile spoke, still crouching over her father, and the man crossed the room hastily. ¡°You should go get the midwife.¡±

    ¡°The midwife, yes. I¡¯ll be right back Emile!¡± The heavily built man left the inn with haste, and again the too loud door slammed shut behind him. Emile wasted no time, and began cleaning up the fragments of the egg. By the time she was done, having hidden the bits and pieces that looked like leather encrusted with jewels, a small crowd of people was were hurrying into the inn.

    The first to enter was the stocky man from before, stomping in his heavy boots. Behind him was another farmer, this one too tall and lean, like the years of working in the sun had caused him to sprout up like a plant, stretched thin. Then walking much slower was town¡¯s resident healer, mother Maia. She was a short, round woman, forever wrapped in a grey no color cloak that swept along the ground. In all the years Emile had known her, she always had a smile and a sweet for the girl. Her round face was forever wrinkled with the lines of a life well lived. Frederick had told Emile more than once that she owed her life to Mother Maia.

    ¡°All right, all right boys, back up now. Give me room, give the man air!¡± She brandished the walking stick that she seldom leaned on like a club directing the two men like wayward cattle away from the prone innkeeper on the floor. ¡°Emile, what¡¯s going on here?¡±

    Emile gestured to the dragon behind the bar, and hoped the dragon would understand that now would not be a good time to follow her. She walked from around the bar, and started to explain how her father had just fallen over, and wouldn¡¯t move. She left out the cause to protect her dragon, and she left out the bit about the scroll because her family secrets were hers to keep.

    ¡°I see, I see.¡± Mother Maia was kneeling now, and raised a hand for silence as she lay her head on Frederick¡¯s chest. An eternity passed. Empires rose and fell, and finally she started to stand back up. ¡°Well, the girl¡¯s right, he¡¯s not dead, not yet anyway.¡±

    ¡°Is he cursed, Mother Maia?¡± It was the stretched too thin farmer that spoke now. For some reason Emile couldn¡¯t remember his name. Her Pa always remembered everyone¡¯s name.

    ¡°Hard to say for sure. Aye yeah. Looks like pear-rally-sis. Haven¡¯t seen anything like this since the war.¡± She leaned heavily on her long, cherry walking stick now, ¡°I think you boys¡¯d better carry ¡®im back to my hut. I can run some tests. You better lock up and come along too, Emile.¡±

    Emile was torn, she didn¡¯t want to leave the dragon, but she certainly didn¡¯t want to let her father go to the midwife¡¯s place without her. With a final word of caution to the dragon, she followed the trio and her unmoving father out of the inn. She locked the front door with a heavy iron key. When she was sure that no one was paying attention to her, she also uttered a locking ward.

    The town was empty for the most part at this time of day, most of the farmers and fisherfolk in the fields or on the water. Those that kept house were mostly inside preparing meals, or tending to other such domestic duties. The improvised medics passed only a few small children on their way to Mother Maia¡¯s place on the outskirts of town. The ancient midwife gave the children each a sweet from one of her innumerable pockets. ¡°Frederick took a bit of a fall is all, nothing to worry about. Just like when you fell out of the tree, Milo.¡± She smiled with the ease of a professional liar, ¡°Do you remember that Karolyn? When little Milo fell out the tree and hurt his arm? Didn¡¯t take him long at all before he was up and climbing trees again though!¡± The children thoroughly distracted with the sweets and the memory, Maia hurried to catch up.

    Mother Maia¡¯s ¡®hut¡¯ was actually a well built wooden cabin on the outskirts of the village. Maia had been a very beautiful woman in her youth, and had ran through a string of husbands over her long and illustrious career of childbearing and rearing. This, coupled with the fact that she had delivered most of the adults in the village, and all of the children, led to a form of tribute being paid to her in the form of donations of both labor and goods.

    Maia had been trained in the healing arts from a young age, and had inherited the cabin from the village¡¯s previous midwife. Many extensions and modifications had been added to the building, not the least important of which was a clean room that was kept as sterile and well lit as possible. It was here, on this very bed where Emile had been born, that her father now laid.

    ¡°Alright you two, back to the fields with ya!¡± Mother Maia spoke with the voice of a head matron. ¡°I¡¯ve got my work cut out for me, and I know you boys do to. Don¡¯t go spreading rumors or fear-mongering! I mean it!¡± The two middle-aged men shuffled their feet and looked at each other abashed, like children reprimanded for something they haven¡¯t even done yet. ¡°You just tell everyone that he¡¯s sick, and that the inn is going to be closed for a few days while he recovers.¡±

    ¡°Yes Mother Maia.¡± The two men muttered in unison and began to make a hasty retreat, contemplating where they were going to source their midday meal and ale.

    ¡°Mother Maia, is my pa really going to get better? Do you think?¡± Emile¡¯s voice was hitching again as she spoke but she was determined not to let herself cry again.

    ¡°Emile, you¡¯re a clever girl, sharp as a tack. Like your mother. I¡¯m not going to lie to you. I have seen this before, and I can¡¯t say for sure until I run some tests. I¡¯ve got some books here on the matter, and I¡¯m going to do my very best. I hope you know that.¡± Mother Maia¡¯s usually cheerful voice was grave and serious.

    ¡°Maybe I can help you?¡± Emile wanted to do something. To do anything. She didn¡¯t want to feel helpless, and in spite of her age, she knew who she was.

    ¡°Of course you can help. You can help me keep him comfortable, and to take care of him.¡±

    ¡°Well, maybe I can be more help than that. I know you are going to try your best, but don¡¯t you think that the wizards at the University would, you know, be able to do more?¡±

    ¡°Of course the wizards at the University would be able to do more. Mercy child, if there¡¯s anyone in all the land that would know how to handle this situation it¡¯d be one of them wizards. Why, if you¡¯re mother were here with us.¡± Mother Maia trailed off at this.

    ¡°Well then, shouldn¡¯t we get one of the wizards to come and help?¡± Emile¡¯s voice was filling with hope now as she spoke.

    ¡°Aye girl, but them wizards don¡¯t work for free. Worse still, we¡¯d have to send a message. You¡¯d likely have to give up your family¡¯s inn just for a consultation, and who¡¯d carry the message across all the badlands between here and Two Lanes?¡± Mother Maia was speaking automatically right now, her still sharp mind broke into several small sharp pieces while she was feeling Fredericks wrists and ankles, testing the rigidity of his joints.

    ¡°Well, I could go!¡± Emile was almost bubbling over with hope now. It was all so easy, she¡¯d go to the University, explain the situation, and one of the wizards would come back and her father would be all better. Everything could go back like it was.

    ¡°The roads are rife with bandits and trouble. It¡¯s an expensive trip even in the best of conditions. These days it¡¯d be a death sentence to try and send one of the men from town.¡± She spoke while she examined, placing a hand over Fredericks eye, and then studying his pupil.

    ¡°Mother Maia, you agree that my pa needs a wizard.¡± Emile¡¯s voice seemed to take on a silky soft edge now.

    ¡°Yes, I agree.¡± Mother Maia was muttering now, almost inaudible.

    ¡°And you agree that no one from town should be sent?¡± The edge to Emile¡¯s usually honey sweet voice grew silkier and softer.

    ¡°Cor¡¯, it¡¯d be a death sentence.¡±

    ¡°And the inn is going to be closed anyway? So no one would miss me, if I went?¡± The words came from a deep depth, and filled the room, growing from the girl.

    ¡°Yes, closed.¡± Maia had stopped her examination now, and just stared at the prone man.

    ¡°We agree then, I¡¯ll be on my way, and you¡¯ll take care of my pa until I get back with a wizard?¡± The girl spoke forming a pact with her words.

    ¡°Always take care of your family, girl. I always have.¡±

 Julie 4

    Julie had lost the road.  She was trying to follow the flow of the water, but it barely seemed to move here.  She hoped she was going the right direction. She knew Willet was downstream, and an hour ago she was able to follow the flow easily, but now the water seemed to have decided that it would wait around here for a while.  The mud kept trying to pull the boots off her feet, and every step was a struggle.

    There were giant spiders here too.  They were black with bright red and yellow markings.  These spiders were smaller than the ones she had battled before, but these ones seemed more ferocious somehow.  They hovered above the wetlands on their silken webs stretched between the tall grass, and Julie hoped they weren¡¯t going to jump on her.

    When the trail had become swamp, she tried to cut her way through the brush with her sword and quickly realized that it wasn¡¯t going to help.  So she had pushed on, one heavy step after the next. She couldn¡¯t see anything in any direction now, the plants all seemed to conspire against her.

    Her hands still hurt from the wounds she¡¯d earned pulling the litter.  Clara had given her a balm for them, but the plants here were soaking wet, and pushing through them washed the balm away and irritated the wounds.  It hadn¡¯t helped the cuts digging the hole, it just added blisters on top of the cuts. She tried to take pride in having given her enemy Mervin a proper burial.  Pride was well and good when your clothes were dry and you weren¡¯t walking through a swamp.

    She pushed through another patch of evil plants, and thought she could hear the sound of voices.  Finally!  She turned towards the sounds, and stepped into much deeper water.  Suddenly she was up to her neck, and she could finally see through the cattails.

    It looked like a boat, but it wasn¡¯t like any she had ever imagined before.  She couldn¡¯t see any sails, or oars and it just sat unmoving on the water. Still, she thought, there must be people.  Her pack was under water, and she hoped that the oilskin was keeping the majority of her things dry.  She tried to push off the ground under the water, but just sank into it. She had always been a strong swimmer though, and she propelled herself through the brown water with her arms.  It was difficult swimming in leather, and she was glad that she had decided to sell the chainmail. As she got closer to the boat, she saw that it was attached to other flat boats with ropes and gangplanks.

    There was a ladder half submerged in the water, and she used it to pull herself onto the deck.  Julie looked around and for a moment she forgot about all of her discomforts. There were planks and ropes running in every direction, boats of all shapes and sizes floated on the top of the muddy water, and she could even hear the sound of a smith working at an anvil.  It was the biggest congregation of people that she had ever seen. It¡¯s a city built on top of the river!  In every direction she could see people, all of them blessedly dry, going about their lives with an air of indifference to the wonder that was their city, Willet.

    She took a tentative step onto one of the gangplanks and crossed above the water to another much larger boat.  There was a man standing behind a stall with fresh fish on the counter. Julie asked, ¡°Excuse me, can you tell me where Fern¡¯s Worth is?¡±

    The man had a rough look about him, with a big unkempt beard and a deep tan that was really just a congregation of freckles.  He wore no shirt, and heavy black gloves that went halfway up his arms, he said, ¡°Oy lass, you going to buy a fish? Fresh caught today!¡±

    Julie was considering asking the question again, thinking perhaps he had not heard her over the sounds of the river and the city, when a very large woman started yelling from across another gangplank, ¡°His fish ain¡¯t fresh!  Come over here girl, I¡¯ve got fish, crabs and eels!¡± The woman was waving at Julie from behind a mountain of sea creatures, some of them still moving.

    Julie looked between the two, and asked again, ¡°I just need directions,¡± she pitched her voice loud enough for both of them to hear her, ¡°I¡¯m trying to find the Fern¡¯s Worth inn.¡±

    The shirtless man looked down at his fish and then looked back up at Julie, ¡°Five gold, and I¡¯ll tell you what,¡± he declared, ¡°even throw in a little ¡®un for your troubles.¡±

    Julie began reaching for her money pouch, feeling that paying the man would be the quickest way to end the discussion when the woman from across the way yelled at her again, ¡°I¡¯ll tell you for three!  And I¡¯ll throw in an eel, can¡¯t beat that deal!¡±

    Julie looked at the greasy looking man who was seething at this turn of events, and made her way carefully across the gangplank.  The woman with the eels was true to her word, gave her directions and forced a still live eel into Julie¡¯s hand. It was slimy and cold to the touch.  Julie thanked the woman and set off in the direction she had told her to go. The eel was wriggling in her hands. She had not been able to convince the woman that she just wanted the directions.  As Julie was crossing another, much larger bridge, a man with a tall hat and a moustache bumped into her. Startled, Julie dropped the eel.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    The mustachioed man said, ¡°Oh!  Madame, I apologize,¡± and he dropped to his knees to recover the eel.  He seemed to have it for a moment before it squirmed out of his hands, and flopped itself into the water below.  ¡°Oh dear. I beg your forgiveness.¡±

    Julie looked at the man on his knees and said, ¡°It¡¯s fine, I um,¡± she considered explaining the whole situation and decided against it.  The man stood up and began offering to reimburse her for the eel and Julie politely decline, feeling that it was as much her fault as his that she had dropped the eel.  She politely extracted herself from the forced pleasantries and finished crossing the large bridge. Now she stood on what must have been a hub for the city. It was a gigantic circular platform with bridges running off in every direction.  Each bridge had a sign with a number next to it, and Julie crossed onto the bridge numbered four.

    At the end of bridge number four, Julie saw a very familiar face.  Sevil was leaning against a green wall. Julie felt her face turn up into a smile involuntarily at the sight of his pale scarred face.  He had an intricate meerschaum pipe in his mouth, and he was blowing smoke rings. When he saw her, he raised a hand. Julie hurried the rest of the way across the bridge, beaming at him.

    Sevil gave her an appraising look and hissed, ¡°I didn¡¯t think that you were actually going to come,¡± he took a long pull from his pipe, the bowl glowing red, and through a cloud of smoke he said, ¡°It seems I lost a bet.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Julie said sounding more aggressive than she meant to, ¡°You¡¯d better learn not to bet against me!¡±

    Sevil looked her up and down.  She was covered in so much mud and pond scum that her clothes seemed to be a seamless blob of grey green and brown.  It was drying in some places and beginning to flake off. Her hair was matted to her head, and there was a terrible smell of the swamp surrounding her.  He took one more long pull from his pipe, and tapped the ashes out against the bottom of his shiny black boot. Julie was beginning to feel self conscious and her anger was somewhat deflating while her shame grew.

    ¡°Wait here,¡± he said, and putting his pipe away he opened the door, ¡°You can¡¯t come inside looking like that.  You just can¡¯t.¡± Shaking his head he walked in. For the brief moment the door was open, Julie could hear Ravenhair¡¯s offkey singing from the tavern room.

    It seemed like eons were passing while she waited.  People kept passing her with noses up in the air, and while no one said anything to her directly, more than once she heard ¡®fell in¡¯ and ¡®tourist¡¯ muttered.  She was beginning to get angry again, and starting to think that Sevil had just left her out here alone to spite her when the man with the tall hat came walking up to her, with a live eel extended out in front of him like an olive branch.

    Upon closer inspection Julie decided that he was actually a very good looking man, in spite of his terrible mustache.  He was smiling at her and waved with the hand not holding the eel. Julie waved back at him, and in spite of all logic he walked right up to her and said, ¡°I have acquired a replacement for the property that I inadvertently robbed you of, m¡¯lady.¡±  He spoke in a charming and old fashioned accent, and Julie found herself smiling.

    Julie was awestruck, she stammered, ¡°That¡¯s, that¡¯s very kind, so, so kind, and unnecessary.  I never would have expected anything like that. I didn¡¯t even know what I was going to do with the eel, and¡­¡±  she trailed off, caught off guard by the odd movement of the man¡¯s upper lip. It looked like he was trying to smile and failing at it.  It did succeed at wiggling his mustache back and forth.

    ¡°I would never presume,¡± the man began in his quaint accent, ¡°To impose upon you, but I myself, Tertius Feld, of the Southern Felds, happen to know a fine recipe for such a delicacy, and if I may be so bold as to offer, I could have this delicacy prepared for you to enjoy, and it would pair beautifully with a Arbois Traminer, which you might-¡±

    He was cut off suddenly when Toby laid a heavy hand on the man¡¯s shoulder from the doorway, ¡°Sound delicious,¡± the giant of a man said in his deep bass voice, smiling at Julie.

    Ravenhair was quick through the door behind him, looking Tertius up and down, and said ¡°How¡¯s it?  Everything as it should be, eh Julie?¡±

    Toby answered before Julie could get a word out, ¡°Dinner.  We¡¯ve all been invited, it seems.¡± It was the longest string of words Julie had heard Toby put together.

    Strangely enough it seemed like Sevil had made his way to the other side of the entire group without passing anyone.  He was looking around tentatively. ¡°We have to go. Now.¡±

    Ravenhair wrapped her arms around Julie and Tertius Feld, and asked, ¡°What might your name be, anyway?  I like to know the names of my host." She was ushering everyone along, back towards bridge number four.  Toby was hovering strangely close to Julie, like an oversized shadow and his hand was still Tertius Feld¡¯s shoulder and he corrected the man¡¯s balance as Ravenhair started walking with him in tow.

    Surreptitiously under the cover of Toby¡¯s mountainous bulk, Ravenhair slipped a somewhat crumpled piece of paper into Julie¡¯s pocket.  Tertius was busy introducing himself to the trio as politely as possible. Ravenhair interrupted his diatribe, ¡°Mighty kind of you, Tert, lettin¡¯ us join you tonight!  Mighty kind of you and the safest thing you could possibly do.¡± At this Toby gave the man¡¯s shoulder a very reassuring squeeze.

    Julie whispered in Ravenhair¡¯s ear, ¡°I was really hoping that I could get cleaned up,¡± and louder for Tertius¡¯s benefit she said, ¡°I¡¯m really excited to for this eel, I¡¯ve never had eel before.¡±

    Ravenhair gasped, ¡°What d¡¯you mean you¡¯ve never had eel before!  You told us before that that farm you grew up on was right there next to Lake Stone.  Might fine eels to be had in Lake Stone!¡±

    Julie jabbed the older woman in the ribs with her elbow, ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve never had it southern style before and-¡±

    Sevil was leading the group across the bridge and stopped short.  He dropped a coin purse on the bridge and made as if to dive for it before it fell over the side.  When he was bending over for the purse, Julie saw a group of heavily armored men being led by a woman in the black and white uniform of a tax collector.  When he stood up, he passed a hair¡¯s width from Julie¡¯s face, and she heard him whisper something that sounded like ¡®morena¡¯ as he rose.

    Julie felt strange for a moment, and shook her head side to side to clear it.  She noticed that she could see her bangs all of a sudden. She paused and started turning her head side to side, and was about to grab at her hair, when Ravenhair interrupted her with a little shake at her shoulder, ¡°We really need to get you cleaned up, you¡¯ve got a bath on that yacht, yeah?¡±

    Tertius looked at Ravenhair wide-eyed and said ¡°For you, madame, I have anything that you and yours might require.¡±

 Emile 5

    Emile surveyed the now empty inn. The midwife that she had left her father with was afraid to let the girl go. She had emphatically begged the girl to stay, attempting to soften the blow with promises of sweets and safety. She changed her mind when Emile explained her plan to her. This was the time for action, and Emile was the daughter of a long line of brave women. She would do what needed to be done. The question didn¡¯t even occur to her that she might not know what needed to be done.

    Beneath the bar counter, there was a secret latch. The activation of the latch was so subtle, that even if one were told exactly where to look and what to do, few would be able to find and activate it. Without hesitation she walked behind the bar and flipped the secret switch. The little green dragon followed her and tried to nuzzle her hand.

    ¡°I know you didn¡¯t mean it, but what¡¯s done is done and we have to fix it! That old lady doesn¡¯t know anything, I doubt she¡¯s ever left this village in her whole life. The wizards at the University will be able to fix this, and then everything will be good again.¡± Emile spoke absent-mindedly, walking to the fireplace in the corner and reaching her hand in to activate another switch. She knew that once the first one had been activated there was a timed mechanism that required the action of both of the other switches or the whole thing would lock her out for twenty-four hours.

    After the fireplace switch, she grabbed one of the chairs at a nearby table, and sat it on top of the sturdy table. Then she climbed up onto the table and then up on to the chair, from there she jumped into the air, and flipped the final switch that was hidden among the cross beams that ran across the ceiling on the inn lengthwise. She landed catlike on the floor on all fours and was rewarded with a smooth grinding sound of the mechanism activating. A the long mirror behind the bottles of spirits behind the bar slid down and revealed a complicated pattern etched into the wall.

    Emile approached the newly revealed panel and began pressing various etchings in a very specific order. A mistake at this point would result in not only a twenty-four hour lockout from the system, but also in a barrage of darts from the panel she was operating. She also knew that each of the darts was dipped in a fast acting sedative that was designed to drop a large adult in seconds and leave them tranquilized for days, if they were lucky enough to wake up at all. It never occurred to her to be afraid however, this was her home.

    After nearly a minute of perfect concentration, there was a grinding sound of metal on metal, and the false wooden floor behind the bar to her left opened revealing a steel hatch with runes etched on its surface. This part was easy, her father had explained to her that runes were enchanted so that only descendants of her great grandparents could open the hatch. He had also been careful to explain to her that it was possible that powerful wizards could break the lock and that absolutely no lock could ever be completely safe. Emile placed her hand on the panel and it spiraled open like an unfolding flower amidst a flash of orange and green light.

    Now there was a stone staircase, and magic lit torches flashed on. If the door had been opened by any force other than her bloodline, her father had told her that the light from the torches would burn brighter and hotter until the eyes of anyone entering burned from their sockets. He would always laugh at this point, and explain that he did not know this for certain as he had never seen it, but that was how it had been explained to him.

    At the bottom of the staircase was a room laden with treasure, some real, most false. Piles of gems, and chests of gold lined the walls and shelves. It was what Frederick called a fool¡¯s bounty. Emile ignored the treasure and made her way to the far wall beneath the inn. The little green dragon had followed her, protected by the power of her presence, and absently mindedly she petted the dragon''s head as she studied the chests on the wall.

    Emile began rearranging the gems and golden treasures in the chests and on the shelves until at last with another flash of green and orange, a very simple looking door opened on the opposite wall. From beneath her shirt, on an enchanted silver chain around her neck Emile revealed a very simple looking key. The key looked simple to her, but to anyone else both key and chain were invisible and intangible to all except the most dedicated magic user. Even then, they would still need to know that they needed to be looking for the key to even try and find it.

    ¡°Right. Little dragon, this room is my birthright and by the power of my families name, the name of my mother and my grandmother, I bind you against your life of ever divulging the whereabouts or contents of this room to anyone.¡± The girl spoke with a deep and resonant voice, that echoed from within her and seemed to come from all around. The spell finished with a blue and then white light flashing around the little green dragon and then fading. The dragon looked momentarily stunned, and then once again nuzzled at Emile¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Sorry about that, it¡¯s family stuff. I hope it didn¡¯t hurt.¡± Emile spoke, and this time in her own small voice.

    The dragon looked up at her slightly confused, and seemed to accept the apology with its too big for its face eyes.

    With a casual calmness, Emile placed the key in the lock, and vanished. The little dragon, recognized by the magic as a familiar, vanished as well. The physical location of the room Emile was in now was unknown to her. It was a simply furnished room, and magic light began to spread across the vastness of the room, seeming grow from the girl herself. This was not a treasure room, this was a war room.

    The walls were lined with row upon row of weapons and armors, each placed upon rack or stand with a metal etched plaque describing the origin, use, and any other relevant information pertaining to the object. There were jewelry stands with rings, pendants, and all manner of enchanted accessories. Between many of the displays were maps in frames, many with vast numbers of annotations, scraps of paper connected to various places by twine. Bookshelves occupied a fair amount of space as well, and even in the magic glow, many of the books shined brighter and with a variety of colors. Musical instruments, some that began playing themselves in her presence, resided all along one entire wall. In the center of it all was an altar, glowing with its own light that somehow seemed to suck all the light out of the surrounding area and create dancing shadows all around its perimeter.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Emile smiled down at the dragon, and then began perusing the room. ¡°I need equipment if I am going to make the journey to the University. Weapons, armor, tools, and a map.¡± She spoke out loud, absentmindedly to the dragon as the walked through the room, shaking her head as she went.

    She was slight of frame, and small even for her young age. It did not take long for her to realize that there wasn¡¯t a single piece of armor that she would be able to wear with any ease. She looked up at suits of platemail, shields that seemed to be larger than she was, and helmets that must have been for ogres. For a moment she worried that there would not be a single piece of armor in the room that she could wear. Then she saw what looked like a hood made of chainmail. It was definitely a hood, but on her she figured it¡¯d cover her chest as well. She began skimming the bronze plaque attached to its stand.

    Emile was trying to pull the stand down as she explained what the mail coif did, ¡°It says that it¡¯s enchanted with something called ¡®Allbreath¡¯ and that the wearer will never suffocate. Not even underwater or under sand. Sounds like they did a lot of testing on it to be sure. It said it would wrap the wearer''s face and pull air out of the water or through the sand.¡± The stand would not budge, ¡°Well, maybe I can climb up it, or something.¡±

    She made her way back around the room, looking for a piece of furniture that wasn¡¯t attached to the floor or wall when it occurred to her that she should just look for something that would let her reach higher. She quickly made her way over to a rack of amulets and skimmed the plaques below each one before snatching one up. The little dragon chirped at her as she went to put it over her head.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry, I read the plaque. It¡¯s just levitate. Everything in here is tested and marked.¡± She rose a few inches off the ground, ¡°See? No problem. It says that it¡¯s an incredibly low level enchantment, so it¡¯s supposed to be slow¡­¡± She was hovering from the jewelry stand back to where the mail coif was on it¡¯s display rack. Realizing how slow she was moving, she began to will herself up as well as over, and moved across the room diagonally at a snail¡¯s pace.

    Triumphantly she finally achieved her goal. She reach out for the mail coif, and draped it over her head. It fit loosely and hung down halfway to her chest. It also covered her shoulders, but some force kept it from sliding down. She reversed the invocation for the amulet and dropped to the floor. ¡°Right! That takes care of armor, next I need a weapon!¡±

    The same problem she faced with the armors quickly became apparent for most of the weapons. Staves, swords, maces, bows and crossbows, it was all much too heavy and much too big for her to carry let alone wield. Finally, on a small shelf mounted on the wall, she found a dagger that looked like it was small enough for her.

    The blade was barely as long as her hand. Emile knew better than to pick up anything in this room without first reading the attached plaque, and this time she read most of it outloud for the sake of the dragon. Emile was nothing if not polite.

    ¡°Blade of three sides, found in the deepest part of Squanderer¡¯s Respite (see coordinates below and map 22A for location) Description: The blades of the knife spiral out from the handle, creating a corkscrew like shape. The handle is bone (origin of bone yet to be determined) and the blade itself is some steel and silver composite. Appears to be enchanted thricely. One enchantment to grant to wielder temporary invisibility upon invocation (seems to require a 24 hour recharge time after each use [WARNING: does not seem to work on undead, further investigation required] see footnote for information upon invocation. The second enchantment seems to make the blade vibrate if held in the presence of someone lying. The third enchantment is still unknown. Reverse engineering the magical reaso-- um resonance signature indicates a third enchantment, however further investigation must be done.¡±

    The little dragon let out a chirping noise at this, and Emile was broken from the spell of reading the bronze plaque. ¡°Well, I¡¯m taking it! I¡¯m sure that the third enchantment is a good one. It¡¯s small and it sounds super useful.¡± She reread the plaque again to herself, and pressed firmly to her memory the mental steps required to invoke the blade for invisibility. There was a leather sheath for the blade on the shelf next to it with a convenient belt loop, and Emile attached it to her own sturdy leather belt.

    Having secured a weapon of sorts, and armor for her head at least, Emile made her way back over to the racks of magical jewelry. From a very young age she had listened to her father¡¯s stories of her brave mother¡¯s exploits, and Emile knew that only one magic ring could be worn on each hand, and that only one magic amulet could be worn at a time. Each jewelry stand was laid out like a grid with a reference number for each place that corresponded with a book nearby. The amulets were hung on the wall nearby, but she decided that slow or not the levitation amulet would suffice for the journey.

    Now she was faced with a difficult decision. Emile was beginning to feel the pressure of time, thinking of her poor father as he was on the bed in the midwife¡¯s house. When she left him, his features were still unmoving and his breath coming in the tiniest gasps so slowly that it had taken her ten minutes to convince the midwife that he yet lived. She pushed these terrible thoughts down and down, and tried to focus on reading the descriptions on the rings in the book attached to this rack of jewelry by a golden chain.

    She read aloud now, ¡°Column C, slot seven. Ring of Chain Lightning: Produces deadly bolts of lightning that jump from enemy to enemy. No recharge time. To be considered EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. High battlefield risk of friendly fire. Will not target the wearer or wearer¡¯s familiar.¡± Emile paused and looked at the little green dragon, ¡°Sounds good to me, it¡¯s not like I¡¯m going to be on a battlefield.¡± She read the chart on the ring stand and plucked up the silver ring. It hand the symbol of a thunderbolt on the inside. She put it on her left hand before returning to the book. She flipped to the back of the book where there was a section for footnotes and invocations, and she read this now.

    She read as quickly as she could, dismissing most of the rings by their name alone, until she got to one with a name she did understand. She read, ¡°Column H, slot nine, Ring of Kine- um, kin-es-ste-tic,¡± she sounded the syllables out one by one as her father had taught her and then repeated the word with more confidence, ¡°kinesthetic dampening, storage, and redistribution.¡± The little dragon made another excited high pitched chirping sound. ¡°Captures the force of any object or objects in motion within one hundred meter range and allows wearer to redistribute that force. EXTREMELY DANGEROUS if used improperly.¡± The dragon was letting out a series of the little chirps now and excitedly bumping its head against her hand. ¡°Well I¡¯m not sure what it means, but if you think I should I¡¯ll take it.¡± She grabbed the ring from the rack and put it on her right hand. It felt much heavier than any ring had a right to. She quickly read the invocation for the second ring and pressed it to memory.

    ¡°Now we just need a map, and we can be on our way!¡±

 Julie 5

    The guards that had stationed themselves on the Willet central hub had seemed bored and slightly annoyed.  They were large muscle-bound men, with crooked noses and set jaws. They wore chainmail and had swords at their hip, but they seemed like they¡¯d been picked for their jobs based solely on their size.  They stopped the group of five and had given Julie and Ravenhair a quick look over before waving them on. The group made their way across another bridge to the westward harbor of Willet. There were flat bottomed boats of all shapes and sizes, and Julie didn¡¯t have to wonder for long which boat belonged to Tertius.

    Tertius Feld¡¯s ¡®boat¡¯ was a great deal larger than the house that Julie grown up in.  It was three stories, though the belowdecks were filled with simple hanging beds for the crew and most of the space was occupied by a team of oxen walking on a track to power the giant paddle that propelled the boat through the water.  The trio seemed thoroughly unimpressed. Sevil refused to accompany Tertius on the tour. Julie was awestruck.

    The hull was gilded, and Tertius had explained the boat had been a floating casino at one point.  He explained that he had wagered so much gold on a round of roulette that the only way the casino owner could cover the bet was to surrender the entire boat to Tertius.  He spoke casually about such things. He was constantly mentioning his family''s vast wealth in an offhand sort of way. It had impressed Julie at first, but was beginning to tire her by the end of the tour.

    There were four very small but very nicely furnished bedrooms on the top floor that was built above the massive cabin.  Tertius had offered to sleep in the belowdecks with the crew, so that each of the four might have their own room, but Ravenhair wouldn¡¯t hear of it.  She said that Julie and her would take one of the empty rooms, explaining that the beds in each room seemed more than roomy enough for two. Sevil, Toby and Tertius would each have their own room.  For some reason Julie didn¡¯t quite grasp, this seemed to nettle Tertius but he couldn¡¯t argue with the logic.

    Sevil had adjourned to his room as soon as he could.  He seemed anxious to get away from the group. After showing off the upper bedrooms, Tertius delighted in showing off the massive cabin that had once housed the casino.  He said he had converted it into a spa for the purposes of maintaining his vitality on his travels. All the walls were lined with mirrors, and Julie could see clearly even through the dirt that her hair was actually black.

    Tertius spread his arms high above his head as they walked into the cabin, and said, ¡°This is my little home away from home.  Let me show you around the facilities, as it were.¡± He was leading the way to the first station in a row, marked with a plush, comfortable looking white chair.

    As he approached the chair, a white fog began coalescing into a vaguely humanoid form.  He put his arm around Julie¡¯s back, and gently pushed her into the chair. As soon as she sat down, the humanoid shape solidified into the most beautiful person Julie had ever seen.  The being had porcelain white skin and white hair, a youth of indeterminate age and gender, appearing both handsome and beautiful at the same time, and incomprehensibly young. She looked up into eyes with rainbow irises and felt her heart skip a beat.

    In the voice of the purest crystal bell being struck, the being asked, ¡°Does the mistress desire the complete facial moisturizing procedure?¡±  Then without the slightest hint of derision, ¡°Mistress must seek an audience with the bath attendants first, I am not sure I can moisturize skin through so much mud.¡±

    Julie felt her face flush at the creatures reminder of her filthy appearance, and began to wonder longingly if there was the possibility of a bath anywhere in her future.  Things unfolded very quickly around her though. Violence startled her out of her introspection. Toby, who had been silent as a mountain since they¡¯d set foot on the ship, was holding Tertius up against the wall by his throat and Ravenhair was at his side.

    She nearly shrieked into Tertius¡¯ face, ¡°Faelings!  You have Faelings bound to you as slaves! I knew you were a scumbag, but this is unacceptable!¡±

    Tertius was struggling to speak, Toby was holding him firmly against the wall with one hand, and looking to Ravenhair for direction.  Tertius managed to sputter out a few choked words, ¡°Not. Bound. Employed.¡±

    Ravenhair looked at Toby, and he dropped Tertius to the ground.  Tertius immediately started coughing and when he stopped he picked up his tall hat and returned it to its jaunty place on his head.  Ravenhair said, ¡°Explain.¡±

    Tertius looked from face to face.  Julie still hadn¡¯t moved from the plush white chair and was craning her neck to watch.  The faeling, if that¡¯s what it was, was still looking down at Julie with its strangely beautiful rainbow eyes.  Tertius said, ¡°They are employed. They are free to go any time they like,¡± his usual haughtiness was gone from his voice and replaced with a dull sullenness.

    Ravenhair did not seem to be mollified by this.  She looked tense and ready to spring like a cat stalking a bird, ¡°Prove it,¡± she commanded.

    Tertius said, ¡°Arleth, you are free to go.  You may leave, I relieve you of any bonds and oaths.¡±

    The angelic creature¡¯s face took on a horror stricken appearance that clashed terribly with its magnificence and Julie felt herself shudder at the transformation.  Arleth said, ¡°Master, are you firing me?¡±

    Tertius smiled gently and said, ¡°No, Arleth.  You are free to stay or go as you so choose.¡±

    Relief washed over Arleth, and they said, ¡°Thank you, master Tertius.  I will stay,¡± and then after a pause, ¡°I still can not perform the moisturizing routine on the mistress''s face until she is cleaned.¡±

    Julie was beginning to feel very confused, she asked, ¡°What¡¯s a faeling?¡±

    Arleth¡¯s smile was like the sun breaking through the clouds on a dreary day, they said, ¡°We are the wind beneath the sea.  We are the sea above the sky. We are the light beneath the ground.¡±

    Tertius quickly interrupted, ¡°That¡¯s enough, Arleth.  My gratitude is always yours,¡± then he leaned close to Julie and said ¡°They¡¯ll go on for hours like that.  I¡¯ve listened.¡±

    Ravenhair said ¡°So have I!  And I¡¯ve never heard of them willingly working for anyone.  What could you possibly be paying them, they¡¯ve no use for gold or any other worldly treasures.¡±

    Arleth whispered offhandedly ¡°We are the gold in the clouds.¡±

    Tertius gently grabbed Julie¡¯s hand and pulled her from the white chair, as soon as she was standing Arleth was once again a vaguely humanoid shape floating in the air.  Tertius said, ¡°I pay them with stories,¡± he rubbed his throat that still bore the mark of Toby¡¯s hand, ¡°they love stories.¡±

    Toby and Ravenhair exchanged a glance, but seemed to accept this.  Julie decided to take the chance to speak up, ¡°So, there was some mention of a bath?¡±  She gestured with her hands from the top of her mud caked head down to her waist. She looked and smelled every bit like she¡¯d trudged through a swamp and then swam through pond scum.

    ¡°Of course!  Right this way my dear.¡±  Tertius led the way through the spa to a back corner that was screened off from the rest with a partition that appeared to be made out of paper.  He slid a panel open and Julie saw the largest bathtub she¡¯d ever seen. It was even bigger than the one at the inn in Kentvale. ¡°Tis not much, but I hope that it will suffice considering we¡¯re abroad.¡±

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    As Julie walked into the bath area, two more of the faelings appeared.  These ones were called Liriel and Lale. Tertius stood in the threshold, expectantly.  Julie said, ¡°Well, thank you!¡± and she started to slide the panel shut. He stepped out of the way with a small bow.

    Julie had never had a bath with attendants before, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to dismiss the faelings.  They spoke in angelic voices and seemed to radiate pure kindness. She knew that she would never have been able to take a bath with human attendants, but the faelings made her feel perfectly comfortable.  The tub itself was magnificent, with running hot water and the soaps were the softest she had ever used. Almost an hour passed and she finally emerged from the bath area wearing a luxurious white robe that seemed tailored perfectly for a woman her size.  She had asked the faelings for her clothes but they explained they were being washed.

    In the spa room she saw no one.  She wandered past the various beauty stations, and decided that it couldn¡¯t hurt to try a few.  The faelings all seemed to genuinely enjoy preening and grooming her. She let Arleth moisturize her face, which involved some sort of thick, gloopy cream, and then she went to another station and her feet were massaged and rubbed down with a pumice stone.  She was just on her way to a third station to see what the faeling there would do for her, when Ravenhair walked in.

    She sauntered over to Julie and asked, ¡°We need to go explain everything to Tertius.¡±

    Ravenhair led Julie back out onto the deck.  Sevil, Toby and Tertius stood near the edge. Sevil was smoking his meerschaum pipe, the smoke streaming in the wind.  Toby stood motionless, but his eyes moved constantly, scanning the horizon. Julie felt a chill. All she wore was the white robe and she felt incredibly exposed.  The sun had set during her luxuriant bath, and the deck was lit with the light of torches placed all along the rails.

    Ravenhair broke the silence, ¡°Listen, Tert.  We don¡¯t mean you any harm, and we¡¯re not the type to normally strongarm our way onto a boat, but we¡¯re in the midst of a desperate situation.  Some rat bastard is trying to pin the tax thefts on our companion here,¡± she gestured to Julie, ¡°and we needed to get out of Willet and away from the capital as fast as possible.¡±

    Julie was flabbergasted.  She looked from face to face in confusion, and was trying to think of something suitable to say.  She felt like she had always felt when she was little and her older siblings or parents would talk above her, about her, rather than to her.

    Tertius seemed to consider this and then he said, ¡°I appreciate your candor.  Alas the truth of things may elude you my dear, for you did not ¡®strongarm¡¯ your way into my care,¡± he smiled at each of the four in turn and then said, ¡°I carry a fair number of enchanted objects, and I have the permits to use them.  I fear no one.¡±

    Sevil burst into laughter.  Julie had never even seen him smile before, and there was something strange and unnerving about his laughter.  It put her in the mind of a snake, if snakes could laugh. She wished she was dressed. He hissed, ¡°Is that true?¡±  Julie felt her skin crawl with goosebumps. A flame sparked from Sevil¡¯s fingertip and he lit his pipe with it. Then he said through the smoke he exhaled into Tertius¡¯ face, ¡°You wear a class C ring of protection, and a class D ring of fireballs.  Five minute recharge time on that, if I¡¯m not mistaken.  And an amulet of,¡± he paused and sniffed the air, ¡°thorns?¡±

    Tertius flapped his hand back and forth in front of his face to clear the thick white smoke.  He was trying hard to retain his dignified look. Even in the low light of the torches, Julie could see his face had gone a shade of crimson.

    Ravenhair said in a severe tone, ¡°Sevil, be nice.  Tertius is our host. And knock it off with the cantrips.  Julie¡¯s hair is bad enough, they might be triangulating.¡±

    Sevil cast her a glance and then looked as if he¡¯d just remembered something.  Julie had a strange feeling for a moment, ¡°I¡¯d know if they were. They are not,¡± he took another draw on his pipe, the ember in the bowl lighting his face with an eerie glow, ¡°Regardless, maybe we should hear him out.  Tertius Feld, why is it that you think you ¡®allowed us into your care¡¯.¡±

    Julie was really starting to feel cold now, she spoke before Tertius could, ¡°Can you perhaps tell us inside?  And um, maybe after I put some clothes on?¡± She gestured to the robe.

    Ravenhair laughed, a hearty belly laugh.  She said, ¡°Julie¡¯s right! We should all get inside.  Besides, didn¡¯t you promise us an eel dinner, Tert?¡±

    Ravenhair and Julie adjourned to their shared bedroom and Julie looked around for her bag.  She had a change of clothes in there that she had hoped would still be clean and dry, but her bag was nowhere to be seen.  When she asked Ravenhair about it, she said that she¡¯d sent the bag and its contents off to be cleaned by a crew member. Julie was cautioned that some of her things were probably ruined by the water.  Ravenhair started rummaging in her own pack and produced a tiny piece of black fabric.

    ¡°Old dress of mine,¡± she tossed it to Julie,  ¡°Hardly get a chance to wear it anymore though.  Barely ever go anywhere without armor. Try it on.¡±  She looked at Julie expectantly.

    Julie was waiting for her to turn around, but she seemed like she was intent on watching Julie put the dress on. Julie had shared a room with two sisters growing up, and so with a shrug she disrobed, and quickly pulled the black dress over her head.  It didn¡¯t cover much. There was a standing mirror in the corner, and she made her way over to it to get a look at herself. In her reflection she saw a slightly skinny girl with long blonde hair wearing an extremely low cut and extremely short dress.  Her bust failed to fill out the top, and her young legs looked gangly. She frowned.

    ¡°Oh you look beautiful!¡±  Ravenhair was standing by her side in the mirror and the comparison only enhanced Julie¡¯s frustration with her appearance.  Ravenhair was gorgeous. She had long flowing locks of jet black hair that curled wildly around her face. She wore shimmering black armor that fit so tightly that it looked like a second skin. Her body had a very healthy, strong, womanly look about it. Robust hips and bust. She was powerful looking, with broad shoulders and muscles that seemed to vie for attention when her arms moved, and even this seemed to enhance her appearance.  ¡°It¡¯s all in how you carry yourself.¡± Julie smiled at this, and in her reflection the smile seemed to change her appearance entirely.

    They made their way back down, and found the tiny dining room behind the spa.  It was lit by candlelight, and the table looked like it was designed for two people.  Julie and Ravenhair crowded in around it, squeezing in between the three men that were already sitting there.

    Tertius said, ¡°I do apologize for the cramped quarters, I usually never entertain more than one person at a time.¡±

    ¡°I bet you don¡¯t, Tert.¡±  Ravenhair said, elbowing Toby under his ribs.  The large man gave a grunt that may have been a laugh.

    ¡°Right, well then,¡± Tertius began, ¡°While we await our dinner perhaps I can offer some enlightenment.  As I said, I am Tertius Feld, of the Southern Felds. We own a vast swath of land in the southern wetlands and fields.  The land has been in the family for generations.¡±

    Ravenhair cut him off, ¡°Get to the point, Tert.  I don¡¯t care about your pedigree and neither does anyone else in this room.¡±

    Tertius cleared his throat heartily, ¡°Right, well then.  A sinkhole opened up in our land some time ago. I am the third son, you see.  My eldest brother is the heir, and of course the second son is a ranking general in the king¡¯s army,¡±  Ravenhair made an annoyed noise, and Tertius began again, ¡°Sinkhole, yes. Ordinarily this is the kind of thing we¡¯d send off to the University to deal with,¡± at this Sevil let out a hiss of air between his teeth.

    Two crew members, one man and one woman, started bringing in plates of food.  They also placed five tall wine glasses in front of each of them and filled them with the promised Arbois Traminer .  The room was so so small that they kept having to reach over each other to get the five plates of food onto the table.  By the time they did the plates were crowded so close together that they were all touching and trapping all of the stemmed glassware. This didn¡¯t seem to bother Toby or Ravenhair, who both began eating vociferously. Julie was sitting between them and she felt trapped by their elbows.

    Tertius took a delicate bite of his eel, and then said, ¡°We sent off to the University, but no one has responded to ring or letter.  Creatures have been emerging from the sinkhole. My eldest brother, Barron, asked Simon to send a platoon, but apparently the king needs all hands on deck in Puissant city right now.¡±

    Ravenhair had finished all the food on her plate and was looking at Sevil and Julie¡¯s untouched food.  She looked up and said, ¡°So you want us to solve this problem for you, eh?¡±

    Tertius cut another tiny piece from his eel with his knife and placed it gently in his mouth.  He chewed it and swallowed it almost timidly, and then he wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin before saying, ¡°Well, the three of you are obviously adventurers, right?¡±

    Ravenhair looked offended, she said, ¡°What do you mean the three of us.  We¡¯re all adventurers,¡±  she struggled to free her arm from the table and clapped Julie on the back, ¡°I¡¯ve watched this woman strike a man¡¯s head from his shoulders with a battleaxe!¡±

    Tertius looked stunned at this, he said ¡°Oh, my apologies!  I thought she was a runaway that you took in.¡±

    Ravenhair laughed, ¡°Runaway, yes.  She¡¯s definitely on the run. Why do you think she trudged through the mud and swam into Willet.  Crafty girl she is, eluding the guards like that until she could meet back up with us.¡±

    Julie¡¯s head was swimming right now.  She was struggling to keep up with the conversation.  She tried her eel finally, and found that it was actually delicious and much different than the eel she¡¯d eaten in Chalkstone.  She decided that she¡¯d ask Ravenhair to explain everything later.

    Tertius took another tiny bite, and then pushed his plate in front of him.  He crossed his knife through the tines of his fork in a particular way, and shortly thereafter the lady crew member came and took his plate away with most of its contents untouched.  Ravenhair eyed the food longingly as it went, and then she said, ¡°Tert, let¡¯s get down to brass tacks. You want us to dive into this sinkhole, figure out what the problem is, we¡¯re going to need to get paid. Giving us a ride down the river is all well and good, but you were going to do that regardless, even if you don¡¯t want to admit it to yourself.¡±

    Tertius seemed to be considering this shift in the conversation.  His shoulders dropped and he finally said, ¡°How much?¡±

    Ravenhair was swapping her plate with Sevil¡¯s, she said, ¡°How much Sevil, for a dive like that?  Unknown monsters, unknown risk, wha¡®dya think?¡±

    Sevil raised his right hand and began tapping each of his fingers to his thumb as if counting, ¡°Seventy-five hundred platinum.  Half before and half after, obviously,¡± he hissed, and then he looked across the table at Tertius and said very solemnly, ¡°of course, should we die you can recover the first half if you can get another crew to go after it.¡±

    Tertius choked on his Arbois Traminer, and dabbed at his mouth with his gold edged napkin, ¡°You could purchase a small barony for that!¡±

    Ravenhair drank her entire glass of Arbois Traminer in one long pull and said, ¡°Is that all your barony is worth then?  I thought you were rich, I¡¯ve got rings worth more than that.¡±

    Tertius looked around furtively and said, ¡°Well, we shall have to consult my brother at the family estate.  When we arrive.¡±

 Emile 6

    Emile had never been this far outside of Kentvale alone. In the stories she had read and listened to her father and others tell her, she was transported, all over Enfidia, and even beyond the borders of the continent. She knew stories of traveling the high seas, and stories that took her to the deepest depths of dark dungeons. Now she was a full day''s walk from her home and she was beginning to wonder where she was going to rest for the night. None of the stories ever seemed to mention the boring bits that walking from place to place seemed to entail.

    The little dragon seemed to reflect her moods. When they had first begun the journey, both had walked with a merry bounce in their step and their chins held high. Emile had caught sight of her reflection in the big mirror behind the bar, and she thought that she cut a striking figure in the chainmail hood. Her red hair had poked out all along the sides when she left, but she kept brushing it back off her face. The afternoon was hot and it didn¡¯t take long for her sweat to trap her hair to her head and for the mail coif begin to irritate her.

    She had stopped, and drank from a waterskin and eaten a piece of cheese. She¡¯d offered some of the hard cheese to the dragon, but the dragon raised her nose and made her high chirping noise. ¡°You don¡¯t like cheese?¡± Emile had asked, realizing that the dragon had not eaten anything since she had come out of the egg. At least, not anything that Emile had seen. The green dragon chirped, and Emile gave her a long appraising look. She decided that she would need to figure out what to feed her before too much longer.

    Emile took another pull of the waterskin, and decided the polite thing to do would be to ask, ¡°So if you don¡¯t like cheese, what do you like to eat?¡±

    The little dragon pushed her head under Emile¡¯s hand, and when their skin touched, Emile¡¯s mind was awash with images. It was the back storage room adjacent to the kitchen in the inn. There was movement. A rustling sound and a squeak. She could smell it in the shadows, and hear its pulse. A breath of green fog under the rack, and it stopped moving. She could still hear its pulse, just faint and slow now. She pushed her head behind the shelf, and grabbed the rat in her teeth. Warm blood filled her mouth, and she crunched down harder. It took only two bites. She swallowed the rest of the rat without chewing, and felt much more satisfied for having eaten.

    She was sitting in the grass again on the edge of the king¡¯s road looking down at the little dragon. She said, ¡°Well! Pa is going to be so upset when he hears the rats are back. I kept telling him we should get a kitty,¡± she scratched the green dragon¡¯s neck, ¡°but I guess we don¡¯t need one now.¡±

    Emile took the mail coif off of her head, and laid it inside the leather backpack. In addition to the items that she had taken from the war room, she had equipped herself with all of the things that she thought might come in handy on the road. Travel food, a few changes of clothing, a hatchet and a flint. A small waterproof package of sulfur matches, and a oilskin wrapped bundle of kindling. A wool blanket, a long length of rope and several smaller cords, and various other assorted sundries and tools. When she had tried the weight of the backpack in the inn it had not seemed so bad. She felt like she could walk with it easily even though it was heavy. She had been walking for almost five hours, and though she was going at a leisurely pace and taking frequent breaks, she was exhausted.

    The map that she carried was the most amazing map she¡¯d ever seen. Her father had shown her around the war room a few times over the years, but the room and its contents were not his. They were Emile¡¯s, her birthright from her mother. The map had not been something she¡¯d ever noticed before. It was beautiful. There had been a bronze plaque under the frame in which it hung, with details of where it came from and expression of puzzlement at the enigmatic nature of it. She was grateful for the map because without it she wouldn¡¯t have known where she was. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    The map always knew, and marked both her and the dragon with an arrow that changed depending on where she was facing. She had brought a compass too, but had not needed to even consider using it. The most useful thing about the map though, was that it could seemingly be any size, and show as much or as little detail as she wished. She needed only to hold it by two corners and stretch it, and the map grew to fill her hands. She had pointed to the University when she first tried it, and the map had drawn a route from the inn in Kentvale to the University in Two Lanes. Then, in the lower right corner of the map, below the key, words had appeared. It said, ¡°Two Lanes is thirteen days from your location by foot following the king¡¯s road south.¡±

    She was incredibly excited that it was able to show her exactly how to get where she needed to go. At the same time she was terrified and disappointed to learn that it would take so long to walk there. She thought about this for a while in the inn, until she had decided that she would go to the capital first. From the capital, she could catch one of the fast moving ships, and she would be there in no time. Getting to the capital, she had decided, would be easy enough if she could find a group of merchants. She knew she would be able to ride in one of their wagons if she asked politely.

    She was now less than another hour''s walking to Ravina. Emile had never been to Ravina before. She had heard it talked about in town though, and the general consensus was that it was not a good place. It wasn¡¯t that the people there were bad, they were just weak, according to the stories. In Kentvale, people were farmers or fishers, and they made most of what they owned. Her pa had told her that Ravina was once a beautiful city, that it had been built around a church and a trading outpost. He said that there was a fight over which god should be worshiped in the church, and since it was the trading outpost that kept the city fed the traders had won the fight. She wondered if there were still traders there.

    Emile looked at the little dragon sitting next to her on the grass and asked, ¡°What¡¯s your name anyway?¡±

    The dragon chirped and tilted its head to one side seemingly considering the question. It chirped excitedly and push its head into Emile¡¯s lap. A flood of images cascaded through her mind again, only this time it was images she had only ever seen in books. She had field guides for almost everything back at the library in the inn, and so the when her mind flooded with images of crystalline rock structures she wondered where the little dragon could have possibly seen such things. The crystals themselves seemed to exist wholly on their own, they sat upon no backdrop and were attached to nothing. Just image after image of brilliant crystals flashing through Emile¡¯s mind until finally she pushed the thoughts away and physically pushed the dragon¡¯s head out of her lap.

    Emile exclaimed, ¡°Gypsum!¡±

    The green dragon chirruped her assent loudly and vocally. Emile forgot about her exhaustion for a moment and stood up. Gypsum was dancing around her feet now, chirping and chattering. The little redhaired girl danced around with the dragon in a circle, with Gypsum jumping up and nuzzling her hands. Emile was overcome for a moment, and felt a bliss wash over her erasing her woes and her fears, until finally she collapsed in the soft grass again, and lay with Gypsum resting her head comfortably on Emile¡¯s chest.

    The brief bout of elation could not last however, as Emile was forced to remember reality staring up at the sky. The horizon wasn¡¯t visible for the treeline, but the shadows were growing long and the pale powder blue of mid afternoon was quickly changing into the deep violet of evening. She knew it would be dark very soon, and in spite of all of her supplies she wished dearly to be under a roof for the night. It doesn¡¯t matter what the people are like in Ravina, someone will let me sleep in a bed. If I ask nicely. She gathered up all of her supplies, double checked her map, and began down the road again.

 Julie 6

    It had taken three days, but the paddle boat finally came to a stop and Julie was grateful. She had enjoyed being pampered by the faelings at first, but she quickly realized that she didn¡¯t really have any stories to tell them. Outside of the story of her battle with Robert Two-eyes, she only knew stories that other people had told to her, and the faelings had apparently already heard all of those. She had tried telling them stories about her life on the farm, but they just weren¡¯t interested. They had all been very kind in telling her that, but it still made her feel boring and inadequate.

    What did make her feel better were the many things Ms. Ravenhair gifted her on the journey. First of all was a wonderful new sword that she had pulled out of her small glittery backpack. It was much lighter than the hardened steel she had been carrying, and seemed to be made for small hands even though it was almost as long as her leg. The handle was slim, with a large rounded hand guard that Julie thought was very dashing, and Ms. Ravenhair showed her that it would protect her hand as well. Secondly was a new set of armor, seeming fresh from a forge with a glaze as fresh as summer grass. It was enchanted with wood-walking according to Sevil, who snorted and coughed when he saw it. Julie had a vague idea that it would help her blend into foliage. The third gift was the best gift, even so. It was her company.

    They shared a room for three happy nights, with Ms. Ravenhair telling colorful tales of her adventures during lessons on swordplay. The room was tiny and cramped, and Julie had suggested practicing on the deck, and Ms. Ravenhair had replied that swords were usually used in cramped places. Julie assumed it also had to do with the many other boats they passed on the river with bright, inquiring faces on the decks.

    Lines and lines of grass, combed with water lacing through like muddy threads, it was incredibly quiet, and peaceful. And humid. Muggy, sultry, and Julie immediately started sweating. The smell was like the lake where she used to live but at the same time it was very different. It had a tamed quality, and all of the plants looked the same. Her eyes scanned in every direction, and as far as she could see it was just steppes of land covered in green plants and water. It was beautiful in an eerie and dead sort of way.

    Julie asked, ¡°What is all this? What are you farming in all this water?¡±

    Tertius smiled, ¡°It¡¯s rice, my dear sparrow, you quite enjoyed it, remember. The white stuff on your plates?¡±

    Julie felt herself flush. She had heard of rice before, and she had eaten it almost everyday on the boat, but she didn¡¯t know what the plants looked like. Rice was something that people in Chalkstone knew about, but everyone ate wheat flour and meat. She looked at all the water again, and instantly realized that wheat wouldn¡¯t grow here. ¡°It¡¯s all you can farm on your land then?¡± She asked without waiting for an answer, ¡°That¡¯s so sad.¡±

    ¡°Well, we also raise eels and crabs. And further south we raise water chestnuts, and all manner of things.¡± He trailed off and paused, then added, ¡°We even put in some cranberries, I think. Barron knows, he can tell you all about it if you¡¯re interested.¡±

    Julie smiled when she saw little minnows swimming around the bottom of the boat. They made their way off the dock, and she was very grateful to be on land again. Even if it was soggy, disgusting land. Seeing plants and hearing birdsong were things she had always taken for granted, and she wondered what it would be like to live in a city where things were said to be rare. The journey through the rice fields was a long and muddy one, and the trio had fallen into a sullen silence. This was broken occasionally by harsh, whispered words between Sevil and Ravenhair, and Julie was left wondering why.

    She tried breaking the silence, ¡°I just wanted to say thank you. For getting me out of Willet like you did,¡± Tertius was far enough ahead that she didn¡¯t think he would hear her low voice, ¡°I don¡¯t know what would have happened if you wouldn¡¯t have been there.¡±

    In a rare burst of conversation, Toby said, ¡°Hanging. Probably, or the guillotine.¡±

    Ravenhair slapped him on the chest, and he smiled good-naturedly, she said, ¡°Don¡¯t mind him, he¡¯s always whistling past the graveyard these days.¡±

    Sevil said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. You¡¯ll repay the favor someday.¡±

    In the distance Julie spotted an immense structure that seemed to rise out of the ground. When she realized that it was there, she realized that she should have seen it a long time ago. It rose from what looked like a spider¡¯s thread base up and up into the sky growing as it went until it was a massive cylinder that grew into what could only be described as a castle. It was like a castle from a child¡¯s nightmare though. Perhaps an unhappy child¡¯s nightmare. She stopped in her tracks and pointed, ¡°Is that where we¡¯re going?¡± She asked.

    Everyone turned and looked at her at once, and she realized she¡¯d committed yet another faux pas. She searched her mind for something to say, but was saved by Ravenhair yet again, she laughed heartily and soon Toby and Tertius joined in. Sevil was the only one left unamused, he said in a very solemn voice, ¡°Why hasn¡¯t that been torn down?¡±

    Tertius turned to him and said in a heart voice that rang with indoctrination, ¡°History of course! If we erase the past, we are doomed to repeat it, are we not?¡±

    Sevil rolled his eyes and hissed between clenched jaws, ¡°I¡¯m sure that sounded fine when your father or whoever said it, but this is dangerous! It¡¯s a monument to death. It¡¯s a monument to fear, and mark my words it will bring you nothing but ill tiding as long as it stands there.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re a wizard yourself!¡± Tertius exclaimed, ¡°How can you be against magic!¡±

    Sevil looked very solemnly at his feet and finally he muttered, ¡°I¡¯m not a wizard, I¡¯m a mage, and I¡¯m not against magic. I¡¯m against idealizing Towered Wizardry and Thaumatism!¡±

    The rest of the walk was very quiet after that. There was a palpable tension in the air. Julie tried to break it more than once, asking more questions as they got closer and closer to the village in the distance. At least, she thought it was a village. All she could see were great stone walls, and so she figured that there must people living in them. She grew up farming, and she knew just by looking around that this much land would take hundred and hundreds of people to cultivate.

    The gate in the wall was massive, and there were archers prowling the walls behind crenellations with nasty looking crossbows. One of them called down ¡°Oy! Who is it then?¡±

    Tertius looked up at the man and said ¡°You know damn well who I am, Smith!¡± His voice shook with exasperation, this was obviously an old argument.

    Smith called down again, whining ¡°What¡¯s the password, then?¡±

    Tertius wiped his forehead and said ¡°I don¡¯t know the password, I have been gone for three weeks!¡±

    The man called Smith considered this comically and then turned the huge crank, a draw bridge swinging down with excruciating slowness, finally landing in a sick splash of mud. Julie had to skip backwards and still got specks on her new armor.

    As they walked through the gargantuan walls, the air took on a whole new color and taste. Where there was green water before, there was dank mud and the smell of a latrine. She licked her teeth uncomfortably, and tried not to grimace. Tertius did not look or seem affected by the condition of the city. Everyone looked dirty and scared. He led the group quickly down the main street, leading towards the massive keep on top of the hill. As their elevation rose, the people seemed a little cleaner, and a little more eager to meet her eye.

    A group of surly looking drunk people were loitering in front of the castle gate. One of them caught sight of Tertius and pointed, and they rounded on him. The leader was red-faced and bald with a large belly. Full of wine, Julie thought. He folded his arms petulantly and said ¡°Oh the golden boy returns. Had your fill of bumpkin whores?¡±

    Julie¡¯s mouth dropped open, and the four of them looked to Tertius, who responded ¡°Ah, Reginald! Captain of our illustrious guard!¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair laughed loudly at that. ¡°Hey, Tert? Why don¡¯t you send out your illustrious guard instead of hiring bumpkin mercenaries like us?¡±

    Reginald put his arms down, and scowled, trying to look intimidating. ¡°Trying to do something useful, eh? Never known you to be interested in our affairs other than to drink the wine and drain the coffers.¡±

    Tertius rolled his eyes, ¡°Well, I need to talk to Barron if I am to be able to do anything.¡±

    Reginald scoffed, ¡°Ain¡¯t that the truth. Well, he¡¯s up in his bedroom. Taken a bit ill as of late, not that you have reason to know. Go on, William will fetch him for you. He¡¯s in the foyer.¡± At this, he turned pointedly away, the rest of the louts falling in behind him. A disgruntled looking woman spit at Tertius as she passed. He did not seem to notice.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    The inside was magnificently decorated with gold and silver trim on old burnished wood. The light filtered gold through high, dusty windows onto threadbare silk tapestries. Julie saw it even made her green armor look a bit dusty and brown. The hall was larger than her little village square, sparsely furnished with long carved sofas down the walls. A desk, dwarfed by the room stood in the center, facing the doorway. The man behind it seemed anxious and dreadfully bored. His white hair was wispy and smoothed wetly over his high forehead, and seemed as threadbare as the rest of the room.

    Tertius beamed with an unusually boyish grin, ¡°William! You look smashing! Your face brightens hard hearts today!¡±

    William looked at him sharply and snapped, ¡°Take that silly hat off! You are indoors. You were raised better than that.¡± He continued writing with a severely trimmed feather quill.

    ¡°Oh, master Will,¡± Tertius removed his hat happily, ¡°I do miss your dour face when I leave here. It rings of home.¡±

    William responded dryly without looking up, ¡°I suppose you¡¯re here for more money.¡± He put the quill down, shaking the ink out carefully, and began rummaging through the desk.

    Tertius raised his eyebrows abashedly and said ¡°I think I had better just talk to Barron.¡±

    The man looked up, squinting his eyes distrustfully at Tertius through thick glasses, ¡°Barron is sick. He certainly does not want to see you, or meet your dubious strays.¡±

    Tertius sounded irritable ¡°Well, unless you have one hundred thousand in that desk of yours, I do not think you can handle the matter on your own.¡±

    He rolled his eyes and exclaimed ¡°In the name of the nine gods of Feld! Has your gambling gotten so bad? Are these ruffians here to hang you by your garters?¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair cut in laughing, ¡°I might do that anyway!¡±

    With a deep scowl at her, Tertius growled back. ¡°I know where his bedroom is. If you won¡¯t wake him, I will simply go up myself. You know how he hates that.¡±

    With a long-suffering sigh, William blew on the sheet of paper and carefully tucked it into the desk and locked the drawer. He slowly climbed the spiral staircase.

    As soon as he was out of sight, Ms. Ravenhair burst out laughing again. ¡°Garters.¡± She gasped happily. ¡°You know, I saw some on that ship of yours!¡± Tertius groaned and put his hat back on, the tall golden feather bouncing off the rim.

    Julie had time to count all of the sofas, tables, tapestries and windows before William returned. The man that accompanied him looked far too old to be Tertius¡¯ brother. He looked like he could have been William¡¯s brother. Older brother.

    Tertius¡¯ smile was forced now, and did not meet his eyes. He opened his arms expansively and said ¡°Barron! What a spring in your step!¡±

    Barron wheezed, ¡°Tertius, why have you come here?¡± He sounded far too tired to be malicious, but it seemed that he was going to make a good effort anyway.

    Sevil interjected before Tertius could respond. ¡°Why hasn¡¯t it been dismantled?¡±

    William snapped at him, ¡°You will speak when spoken to in the presence of Lord Feld.¡±

    Barron stopped on the stair and took a long rattling breath. ¡°What are you talking about? The tower? Oh, now, did I go to school with you?¡±

    Sevil said curtly, ¡°How would you know? You would never deign to speak with a scholarship boy. Answer the question, Barron.¡±

    William¡¯s face flushed, and he scurried down the stairs toward him, ¡°You shall not speak to Lord Feld in this manner!¡± He rounded on Tertius, waving a trembling finger, ¡°Why have you brought these people here? Do we not have enough problems?¡±

    Tertius said quickly, ¡°I brought them here to solve a problem! They are adventurers, you know, apolitical mercenaries, for the sinkhole.¡±

    William said, ¡°We have never had to trouble others with our own problems in the past, and I am loathe to set such a precedent.¡±

    Barron continued his painful descent and said, ¡°William, maybe for once Tertius is right. Simon would not help. He does not need us anymore, it seems, and he has taken our finest with him.¡±

    Tertius hurriedly explained the situation, and the price Ms. Ravenhair had quoted. William started sputtering, but Barron put a hand on his shoulder and said, ¡°It seems we have little choice, but I would like to question his choice. Studying at the University means little. I should know.¡±

    Sevil gave a rare smile at that, and flicked a card into his fingers. He proffered it gracefully to Barron.

    Barron snatched it, examined it quickly and held it up to a beam of light for long moments. He looked back at Sevil with condescension. ¡°This says you are a mage. Failed your thesis?¡±

    Sevil snorted and rubbed his scar absently. ¡°It was all politics,¡± he produced his pipe and lit it with his fingertip. Barron raised an eyebrow at that.

    Ms. Ravenhair clapped her hands together and said loudly, ¡°This shithole ain¡¯t nothin¡¯ but a stop in the road for us. We have better places to be than up to our ears in your godforsaken mud. We told you the price. Either pay, or quit wasting our time.¡±

    Julie was genuinely becoming worried. The story Tertius had told was playing in her mind, and it fit very well with the scared people she had seen outside. They were farmers who had lost people to those creatures. They could stay in these walls, but if the crop was not harvested, they would starve to death.

    William choked, ¡°This is extortion! They are thieves! Nothing but thieves gone in the night! How can we possibly trust them?¡±

    Barron smiled meanly, ¡°Because Tertius will join them, and if he returns without it complete, he will never be welcome within these walls as long as I live.¡±

    Tertius swallowed and cast his eyes at the floor as Ms. Ravenhair laughed long and hard.

    <hr>

    The Feld family armory was a room filled with rusty steel. Tertius looked around, confused, and said ¡°It wasn¡¯t like this before! Simon must have drained our stocks along with our personnel.¡±

    Toby was running his fingers over a halberd, he picked it up and swung it around a bit and then pushed it into Tertius¡¯ hands. ¡°Is this too heavy for you? Before you answer, hold it out in front of you like this for a few seconds.¡±

    Tertius tested the weight of the halberd, and holding it at arms length only made his arms tremble a bit. He did like that it would put a great deal of distance between him and the attacker, since it was half again as tall as himself.

    Ms. Ravenhair was looking around as well, ¡°The guys on the wall had those nifty little crossbows, you got anything like that here?¡± She made a quick round of the room.

    Tertius mumbled ¡°I think they bought those themselves, anyway, I¡¯ve got my ring so I should be well prepared now.¡± Sevil issued a hoarse laugh and Toby just shook his head ¡®no.¡¯ Tertius looked deflated. ¡°It¡¯s a proper ring of protection! Never seen one like it, cost a fortune!¡±

    Sevil snapped ¡°I have an S-class ring sitting in my bag right now. Couldn¡¯t get 6 platinum for the one on your hand.¡±

    Tertius held up his hands fearfully and brought them to his mouth. ¡°I don¡¯t have an S permit!¡±

    Sevil shrugged and lit his foul smelling pipe. ¡°No? Neither do I.¡±

    Tertius looked relieved, ¡°Oh, so that¡¯s why it¡¯s in your bag?¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair shook dust from the ceiling with her laugh, and Sevil snorted, and with a flourish, he proffered a ring to Tertius. With a bored voice he implored, ¡°I would like this back when we are done.¡±

    <hr>

    They were a half hour outside of the keep, and the land was drying out considerably, to Julie¡¯s relief. In the distance she could even see animals grazing. Tertius had not donned the ring, but Sevil had refused to take it back, so Tertius pulled it out of his pocket every few minutes to look at it. He would tuck it back away, a bit mournfully, every time. Julie had asked if she could have any magic rings to wear, but everyone had fallen deaf. Ms. Ravenhair told her a bit later that she just needed training.

    They approached a large herd of horses grazing happily, right next to the path. Julie watched with interest, as her father had bred horses. These looked like fine stock, perhaps a bit wide in the knee for jumping, but must be solid workers. ¡°Are these Shire horses?¡± She asked Tertius, pointing at the closest example.

    Tertius answered tentatively, ¡°I don¡¯t rightly know, but we sure make a lot of them.¡±

    Julie sounded excited, ¡°Well, they have such large feet! I assume they do, but they look entirely made out of mud here. I suppose they are fine with it, but that field would crack our appaloosas hooves sure as anything.¡± Then she pointed, ¡°Oh! There is a wrangler lying over there, I bet they can tell me if they are Shires!¡±

    Toby had also seen the ¡®wrangler¡¯ and grabbed her shoulder when she started towards them. He bellowed ¡°To arms!,¡± which made Tertius scream, but everyone else pulled out their weapons. The horses all started, running madly in a cloud of mud and thunder. The ¡®wrangler¡¯ stood slowly, entirely covered in mud. Julie gasped as two others rose.

    Bolts sprung wetly from the figure¡¯s chest, it was not moving at all like a human, and did not react. Ms. Ravenhair groaned, ¡°Ghouls. I hate ghouls.¡±

    Tertius rallied, ¡°Leave it to me!¡± and shot a huge ball of fire right in between the three figures. The wet grass caught on smoky fire, sputtering out wetly after a few moments, leaving no trace except for a blackened circle. The figures looked lazily toward the quintet.

    Then, with a dizzying burst of speed, they charged. Ms. Ravenhair shouted ¡°Decapitate!¡±

    The one closest ran straight for Julie, and with a swiftness she didn¡¯t know she had, she swung the sword purposefully across its head. To her surprise, the sword sunk into the neck easily. The head hung for a moment off kilter before sliding off, with a spray of black ichor. The body collapsed a half-second later. Julie blinked and turned toward the rest.

    Toby had a ghoul at his feet, but Tertius had poked the spike of his halberd into the ghoul¡¯s torso. It flailed its arms and snapped at him, croaking eerily. Sevil was laughing, and Tertius squealed desperately. After Sevil caught his breath, he raised his hand and muttered a few words, and the thing¡¯s head exploded. Ichor rained down on Tertius and painted his clothes, the gold feather turned black and stuck to his face.

    Ms. Ravenhair smiled at Julie warmly and put her hand on her shoulder before glaring ferociously at Tertius. ¡°You did not say they were ghouls!¡±

    Tertius said innocently, ¡°Well, how was I to know?¡±

 Emile 7

    It was fully dark by the time Emile reached the outskirts of the village. She could see the flickering light of torches dancing in the distance. The little dragon stopped short, and made a startled sound. Emile looked down at her, and laid her hand upon Gypsum¡¯s head. Images of a volley of arrows, and the sound of men screaming filled her mind. She could see heavily armored men wearing strange masks and carrying bizarre long handled weapons. They were charging at her on horseback. She removed her hand, and looked down at the dragon. Gypsum was shaking in the darkness.

    Emile said, ¡°I don¡¯t think that it will be like that here, but maybe you should go out and look for something to eat in the forest,¡± Gypsum chirped excitedly, ¡°will you be able to find me if you need to?¡± Gypsum nuzzled Emile¡¯s hand again, and Emile felt the assurance. Well, if worse comes to worse, I can find her with the map.

    Emile decided that she would wait until tomorrow to make her way into Ravina proper. There was a little farmhouse with a thatch roof just on the outskirts, and she saw children¡¯s playthings in the yard. I bet there are good people in a house like that, she thought and walked up to the door. Through a tiny window next to the door she could see the light of a hearthfire. She knocked on the door firmly, three times.

    A skinny middle-aged man opened the door. He looked over Emile at first, and then finally looked down at her. His mouth seemed to be failing to form words until finally from inside the house a woman¡¯s voice called out, ¡°Byron! Who is it knocking at this hour of night then? Is it another peddler? Tell ¡®em we¡¯re full up on gods in this house!¡± All the of words seemed to run together in a litany without a single pause for breath or response.

    ¡°No dear,¡± Byron called back over his shoulder, ¡°it¡¯s a little girl,¡± he turned and looked down to Emile, ¡°what are you doing out this late at night?¡±

    Emile didn¡¯t think that it was particularly late. The sun had only just set. She looked up at the skinny man and said, ¡°I¡¯m on my way to Cartson City and I need somewhere to sleep tonight.¡±

    The man made a strange circular motion over his heart with his hand and said, ¡°That¡¯s treason talk that is! Everyone knows that the capital is called Puissant City now. By royal decree of the good king Everard Puissant.¡±

    Emile stared up at the man and said nonplussed, ¡°My pa said that changing his name and the name of the capital to pissant was the dumbest thing that king Curtis has done since he killed his own pa.¡± she smiled, ¡°Now aren¡¯t you going to invite me in?¡±

    The man looked around as if he expected the guards to spring on him at any moment, and finally he said, ¡°Well, you better come in I suppose, wouldn¡¯t be right turning away a little girl in the middle of the night. We¡¯re gods fearing folk in this house, we are.¡±

    Emile walked into the house behind the man and was shocked by what she saw. Every surface and every wall was covered in various religious symbols. The shelves were lined with all manner of tiny statues of various deities, and the space visible on the walls was covered with a multicolored conglomeration of religious symbols that seemed like haphazard graffiti competing for dominance. The floor was littered with toys but there were no children in sight, and even the toys seemed to be painted with some of the same symbols from the walls.

    A large woman who seemed to be as round as she was tall was busily counting the beads on one of the many necklaces she wore rocking in a chair in the corner. She looked up from her counting and said, ¡°Byron! You can¡¯t just be letting strangers into the house, what if she¡¯s a demon!¡±

    The skinny man gave Emile an apologetic look and then said to the woman, ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s a demon, I think she¡¯s just a little girl. She says she¡¯s on her way to Puissant City.¡±

    The round woman held her hands out in front of her and made various gestures with them, ¡°That¡¯s a wicked sinful place that is. That just proves that she¡¯s probably a demon!¡±

    ¡°Well, what if she¡¯s an angel sent by one of the gods to test us and if we turn her away we¡¯ll be punished?¡±

    Emile was watching this back and forth argument with an air of detachment. She was very tired from walking all day, and she decided that she had better take control of the situation. She said, ¡°I¡¯m not a demon or an angel. You¡¯re good people and you should give charity to a traveler in need,¡± they both turned and looked at her, the tired argument they were having fell from their lips.

    <hr>

    Emile had dreamed of rabbits. They were faster than she was. She would chase them in the darkness of the forest night, but they seemed to be able to disappear into the ground at will. She had realized that she needed to wait for them. They weren¡¯t faster than her breath. She lay on her stomach and watched the hole. Soon, a fat rabbit¡¯s ears and nose appeared. She breathed deeply, from the very bottom of her chest. The green fog bellowed out from her mouth, and the rabbit stopped moving. It lay half in and half out of the hole. Her jaws closed around the rabbit''s throat, and the blood was still warm in her mouth when she snapped awake in the bed.

    Emile ran her tongue over her lips, and was disappointed at the lack of blood. She stretched on the straw mattress, and sat up. The smell of bacon greeted her pleasantly, and she could hear the sound of a kettle whistling in the other room. With a smile at the smells and sounds of breakfast, she crawled out of the bed, and grabbed her pack. The room she had slept in was tiny, but neatly kept.

    In the main room she saw Byron and his wife busying themselves over a cook fire. Bacon rashers sizzled on a skillet over the fire, and Byron was pouring water from a kettle into a teapot. He called out to her, ¡°Oh, good. You¡¯re awake, we were going to have to start without you if you slept much longer.¡±

    Emile sniffed the air appreciatively and said, ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t, it all smells delicious!¡±

    Byron¡¯s round faced wife smiled and said, ¡°Well, I should hope so!¡± The bacon was removed from the skillet and placed on a stone plate that had been warming by the fire. Then she began cracking eggs onto the griddle and setting the shells set aside on a delicate looking plate on a nearby shelf beneath a small statue of what looked like a birdfaced woman. In a few moments the eggs were cooked over easy and also placed onto a stone plate.

    Byron was pouring tea from the pot into five very fine and very small cups. Emile asked, ¡°Who else are we dining with?¡±

    Byron looked up from his careful pouring, ¡°Beg pardon?¡±

    Emile said, ¡°Well there¡¯s five cups and only three of us.¡±

    Byron had apparently been measuring each cup precisely, and satisfied he began distributing the cups to altars beneath various statues that lined the walls. When the tea was placed on the altar, it would burst from the tiny cups in a cloud of steam. A satisfied sigh would follow. His wife was carefully placing the eggs and bacon onto tiny separate plates and distributing them likewise. Placed upon the altars, the eggs and bacon would burst into flames. Some green, some orange, some blue or black.

    Emile was beginning to worry she would not be given breakfast at all. She said, ¡°Are we going to eat any of that?¡±Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    Both Byron and his wife looked horrified at the thought. His wife answered, ¡°Oh no dear, we¡¯ll break our fasts later on! First things come first in this household!¡±

    Emile watched the rituals with equal parts confusion, curiosity and horror. After the couple had sacrificed their tea and eggs and bacon, they went through their cupboards and produced various bits of produce. A piece of celery, a carrot. Gone in a burst of flames. A tiny apple was placed on an altar before a statue of a man with a horse''s face. It just sat there.

    Byron looked at it, concerned. ¡°Midge? D¡¯ya think Gre¡¯L¡¯z is upset?¡±

    Midge turned from where she was counting pieces of salt onto a metallic plate and looked, ¡°Oh my! What¡¯s the problem then? Is the apple rotten?¡±

    Byron picked it up and looked at it. He pressed down on the skin firmly with his fingers, testing for soft spots. He turned it over this way and that, inspecting the surface the whole way over. Finally, satisfied, he said ¡°It¡¯s perfect, can¡¯t find a thing wrong with it!¡±

    Midge snatched it from his hand and began examining it herself, ¡°Well, maybe you put it on the altar wrong!¡± With great reverence she placed the tiny apple on the plate before the statue of Gre¡¯L¡¯z and watched expectantly as nothing happened.

    Emile felt her stomach rumble, and thought longingly of the warm blood running down her chin in her dream. ¡°Might I have the apple then,¡± she said, ¡°only if Grels doesn¡¯t want it, that is,¡± she added remembering her manners.

    They both turned and looked at her, horrified. Her logic was inscrutable, tearing the couple between some sort of inner conflict. Midge spoke up first, ¡°Well, it doesn¡¯t seem like Gre¡¯L¡¯z wants this particular apple,¡± she gestured to the apple sitting on the tiny metal plate before the statue, ¡°Still, I don¡¯t know if it¡¯d be right. ¡®Ave we got another apple for ¡®im?¡±

    Byron clamped onto this idea. He began rummaging through the cupboards searching. ¡°We ¡®aven¡¯t! I can¡¯t find one anyway!¡±

    Midge pushed him out of the way, and started looking through the cupboards herself. She kept poking her head out of the cupboard and looking around at the statue of Gre¡¯L¡¯z, and the tiny apple that was stubbornly refusing to burst into a flame. Emile was seriously considering leaving now. There was food in her pack, hard cheese and travel sausage. Some fruit of her own even. An idea occurred to her. She rummaged around in her pack and pulled out a bright, red apple. It was a plump thing, much healthier looking than the little green apple that sat on the altar.

    Byron and Midge¡¯s eyes swiveled and landed on the red apple in Emile¡¯s hand. They stared at it greedily. Emile said, ¡°I¡¯ll trade you. I like green apples better than red ones, maybe Grels likes red ones better than green.¡±

    Byron looked to Midge and said, ¡°I can¡¯t remember! It¡¯s worth a shot though, right?¡± He seemed to be terrified.

    Midge said, ¡°I¡¯m not sure either. Can¡¯t recall what the peddler said when we bought ¡®im. We¡¯ve been giving Gre¡¯L¡¯z green apples for as long as ¡®e¡¯s been in the ¡®ouse.¡±

    Tentatively, Byron reached for the green apple from the plate, and when he grabbed it he did it with the fearful expression of a man trying to grab coals from a fire. Nothing happened. He looked to Emile and she smiled and proffered her large red apple. The exchange was simply silly to Emile, but to Byron it must have been something sacred, for he bowed and cast his eyes low. Once Emile had hold of the green apple, she took a ferocious bite out of it, juice spraying her chin. She really liked sour green apples, and this one was pleasantly tart.

    Byron very carefully placed the large red apple on the altar before the tiny statue of Gre¡¯L¡¯z. It burst into a flame, and both he and Midge let a relief filled burst of air from their pursed lips. Midge made a strange series of gestures over her chest.

    Emile was busily eating the little green apple. When it was nothing but a spindly core, she said, ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be going. Do you want me to throw this out in the yard or?¡±

    Midge and Byron both dashed towards her. Midge was quicker though, and snatched the core from her hand. Gracefully, she placed it on an altar before a tiny statue of a woman with a pig¡¯s face. It burst into purple flame.

    Emile said, ¡°Well, thanks for letting me stay with you.¡±

    Neither of the couple acknowledged her. They were arguing about whether they¡¯d offered a sacrifice to a snake faced god this morning. She heard Midge say clearly as she was leaving, ¡°I swear you missed ¡®im! He only eats live sacrifices!¡±

    Byron¡¯s voice was discernible through the thin door Emile shut behind her, ¡°I gave ¡®im a cricket this mornin¡¯! First thing!¡±

    Faintly she heard midge cry out, ¡°A cricket!¡± And then she was out of their unkempt yard.

    Gypsum was sleeping under a tree just beyond the ramshackle fence. Emile could heard the sound of the river, and she could hear many voices shouting good-naturedly in the distance. The little dragon rose, and greeted her affectionately. Emile patted her head, and considered her next course of action.

    She reached into her pack, and procured a length of cable. Gently she tied it around the dragon¡¯s neck, and then fastened the little corkscrew dagger she carried on her waist to the cord. With her hand on Gypsum¡¯s head, she thought of the invocation. In a way, it was like a jigsaw puzzle, or one of three rings puzzles the smith made in town. At first nothing happened, and then she saw the truth of it. The dragon was invisible. It was very obvious when you thought about it the way the little dagger thought about it.

    ¡°Right then,¡± she said and Gypsum chirped agreement. ¡°That takes care of that, now we just need to find a ride.¡±

    <hr>

    Inside of Ravina proper was the strangest marketplace Emile could have imagined. The town square was built around the ruins of the old temple, carts and stands crowded together everywhere. Each and everyone of them stacked high with tiny statues that Emile recognized from Byron and Midge¡¯s house. Behind each of the amalgamations of religious idols, a man or a woman stood calling out the merits of various deities for sale.

    ¡°Rain gods here, quality downpours, never a chore!¡±

    ¡°Safe travels for the weary, don¡¯t let the roads be scary!¡±

    ¡°Little girl, do you need help! I¡¯ve got every sort of deity you might need!¡±

    ¡°Has your mother sent you out for the latest stock? Well I¡¯ve got just what you need right here, nary a sacrifice to be made, just good old fashioned prayer books!¡±

    ¡°Fresh fertility goddess, bless your house with children, thirty day money back guarantee!¡±

    Emile looked from face to face. They all looked like they were excited to be there, but she could tell that their smiles were what her pa had always called a ¡®cashier¡¯s smile.¡¯ The main square in the town housed a lot of merchants, but they seemed as if they¡¯d set up a permanent or at least semi-permanent residence here. Next to each of the stalls of idols were tents, cook fires, clothes hanging out to dry on lines. It was a shamble town built around the decaying walls of the temple.

    She pushed through to the other side of the town. The river here was wide and deep enough for flat-bottomed boats, and lined all up and down the dock there were boats filled to the brim with the same statues and symbols she¡¯d seen in the town square. As she got closer to the docks, she could hear voices calling out. Promises of fair winds and easy sailing. Promises of fat fish and full stomachs with the purchase of this god or that. And they¡¯ll even throw in your first sacrifice, Emile thought and laughed as she made her way towards one of the boats.

    The man sitting in the boat put Emile in the mind of a frog. He had big buggy eyes, a round belly and short, bandy legs. He was wearing brown heavy robes that did nothing to hide his bulk. Half of his head was shaved, and when Emile got close enough to realize that his hair was long on the other side, she giggled.

    ¡°U¡¯llo little girl! What¡¯re you doing out this early in the mornin¡¯? Did your mum sen¡¯ you out for a deity?¡± He spoke in clipped consonants and was scanning up and down the shore for the potential early morning shoppers that wandered from merchant to merchant on the dock.

    Emile looked at the boat he was standing in, and asked ¡°Are you going to be leaving here soon?¡±

    He scratched his chin and said, ¡°Well, I was planning on heading down to Willet soon, maybe stock up on some eels. See if I can¡¯na unload a coupla river gods down there.¡±

    Emile looked at his boat and said carefully, ¡°What about Cartson City?¡±

    The man corrected her, ¡°Puissant City, yea I¡¯ll be heading there after Willet, doing the circuit tour you know.¡±

    ¡°Well, do you think you could take me with you, to the capital? We don¡¯t need to stop in Willet you know.¡±

    The man stopped scanning the other early morning walkers on the dockside. He looked down at Emile dreamily and said, ¡°We don¡¯t?¡±

    Emile met his eye, she said, ¡°No, I don¡¯t think we need to stop. We need to get straight to the capital as soon as we can.¡±

 Julie 7

    Not one hundred paces on, the field was strewn with long jackets stomped into their own black puddles.  They may have once been white, but ichor had seeped in and stained large patches in the stiff fabric. Fallen soldiers interspersed them, all decapitated.  In the center of this carnage was a huge hole in the ground, wide enough to swallow her family¡¯s cabin. The bottom was not touched by sun.

    Ms. Ravenhair turned to Tertius.  ¡°Well, do you want to stay out here,¡± she reached into her glittering backpack and pulled out a light skein of thin rope.  ¡°None of us will think less of you if you stay out here.¡±

    Sevil hissed, ¡°I don¡¯t think I could think less of you.¡±

    Tertius looked downtrodden and flipped the feather off his cheek, and it rebounded with a splat and he grimaced.  ¡°I gave my word that I would accompany you!¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair was still pulling rope out of her backpack, it had pulled free from the skein and was piling up next to it in the grass.  ¡°You have accompanied us this far, but I cannot guarantee your safety now. Though this does not look like a welcoming place to wait.¡± The end of the rope finally emerged, attached to a small delicate-looking metal object.  She tossed the skein off and put it back in the pack, before throwing the rope down the hole. She held the metal object as it fell, and then placed it in the soft ground.

    Julie watched this procedure with a sinking heart.  That looked like a very thin line to descend. Toby wrapped his leg around the rope, and braced it with the crook of his arm, feeding line through and falling out of sight.  His voice echoed now, ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter whether you stay or not.¡±

    Sevil stepped off the edge after a moment, sinking slowly past the rim.  His boots glowed a sullen green, and he seemed to be waiting for Toby to go first.

    Ms. Ravenhair turned to Julie and said ¡°You can stay here too, Tert could get himself killed out here.  If not, I can show you how to use a rope for a long drop like this.¡±

    Julie definitely did not want to be left behind, staring at corpses.  She thought back to meeting these three when she was preparing to face Robert Two-eyes all on her own.  Then she thought back to digging the grave in Clara¡¯s yard. She smiled and said ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± She felt more at home here than she ever had before.  ¡°Are you going to be okay up here, Tertius?¡±

    Tertius responded morosely, ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll be quite at home, young lady.  Please, just be back quickly. And safely.¡± He bowed cordially and his tall hat fell off and landed some few seconds later down the hole.

    Julie went before Ms. Ravenhair, who carefully wrapped Julie¡¯s leg around the rope, and her arm to brace.  ¡°Now, be patient and don¡¯t get rope burn. Nothing worse than fighting with blisters breaking under your palms.¡±  She patted the green helmet companionably and Julie made her way down.

    The side of the shaft was thick matted roots and mud, and made for easy gripping.  Julie did not slip, and felt very proud of herself until she hit the floor. Sevil was still hovering, a lofty four feet above the mud, and slipped his noxious pipe away as she looked up and he sneered, ¡°I had time to finish, waiting for you.¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair hit the ground with a cat-like elegance, and stood up with a flourish.  ¡°Quiet, you. Any magic?¡±

    Sevil cleared his throat and took a hearty sniff.  He let his breath out in a huff and swiveled his head around, floating in a circle, snuffling like a dog.  ¡°It¡¯s everywhere.¡±

    Julie piped in brightly, ¡°There are four passageways, should we each take one?¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair started laughing, and then coughing as she tried to quiet herself.  Toby just shook his head and Sevil rubbed his scar idly. Once she got a hold of her breath again, she said ¡°We stick together.  Always together. Toby goes first, then me, then you. Sevil watches our backs or our fronts, whatever seems to be required, and runs the other way if he sees anything.¡±

    Sevil nodded ¡°Damn right.¡±

    The floor was puddled and moldy, but made of some hard, slippery surface.  There was a circular table in the middle of the room, with a plinth which was long deteriorated past the point of recognition.  The room is circular, with a door on one side, and hallways down the other three leading to blackness.

    Ms. Ravenhair commanded, ¡°Let¡¯s get this started.  Sevil, light.¡±

    Sevil cleared his throat and three spheres of luminescence erupted from his fist.  Julie gasped and he rolled his eyes, very visibly in the new lights. The orbs floated casually down each hallway, stopping an appropriate distance away.

    A loud scratching thud made all of them jump.  There was soft scratching and squeaking coming from behind the closed door.  Silently, Toby drew his axe and Ms. Ravenhair drew her sword. Feeling it was expected, Julie fumbled her sword out of its sheath.  Toby mouthed ¡°One, two¡­¡± and kicked the door in, brandishing his axe with both hands.

    A nest of rabbits squealed in fright, with the mother wide eyed and trembling in front of the kits.  A few thumping shadows fled through a tunnel in the corner of the tiny room.

    Julie dropped her sword.  ¡°Oh! They are adorable!¡± She moved forward, as if to touch them and Ms. Ravenhair grabbed her shoulder roughly.

    ¡°Pick up your gods damned sword.¡±  Ms. Ravenhair growled at her, and turned to Sevil, ¡°Are they infected?¡±

    Sevil sounded bored and replied, ¡°Yes, so I¡¯ll cook them fast.¡±  He flicked balls of violent green at each kit, and mother, and paused.  He then shot a few more, that raced down the hole. ¡°I hate when it gets into the ground like this.¡±

    The closet smoked, and the mouldering equipment was now covered in a layer of burnt slime.  All that remained of the rabbits was some white tufts of fur floating in the air. Julie had a much firmer, if slightly shaky, grip on her sword now.

    Sevil gave another inquisitive sniff and said, ¡°To the left, down this hallway.¡±  Toby walked slowly and cautiously toward the hanging ball of light, which floated ahead of him.  The walls shone white, now, and the floor was slick and shiny. Julie had never seen anything like it, and could not fathom why she was not sliding, and that it did not seem wet.  She put her boot down and gave a testing twist, making a terrible squeak. Ms. Ravenhair shushed her angrily.

    Julie whispered defensively, ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t know it would do that!  I don¡¯t even know what it is.¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair whispered back, ¡°Ancient ruins.  Sevil says that the ancients could make things out of oil.¡±

    The whiteness of the wall bled into shadow up ahead, with two small corridors leading off to the left.  The light came to a halt at the first, and Toby took a breath and gestured with his head that there was nothing there.  The three of them crept down the hall towards two doors. Sevil was reclining in the air. The doors had humanoid symbols on them, one with legs and one with a triangle.

    Toby shouldered open the first door a crack, with the light peeking in over his head.  He nodded, holding up two fingers without losing grip on the axe. Ms. Ravenhair readied her sword, and Toby opened the door as she leapt in, decapitating the ghoul.  As soon as its head left its shoulders, the body liquified into putrescence, leaving behind nothing but a puddle with a sodden white coat. The second ghoul made a shuddering howl and attacked, before it had taken two steps, Toby had swung his axe.  It exploded against the wall wetly.

    Julie looked through the door, curious.  There were cockeyed panels, and odd white seats.  Ms. Ravenhair and Toby had already left, so she scurried after them, whispering ¡°Don¡¯t you want to check to see if there is something in there?¡±

    Toby answered, ¡°There¡¯s never anything in these but some poor bastards who got caught.¡±  Julie¡¯s brow wrinkled in confusion, but Toby was busy checking the other door. Nothing this time, they rounded the corner and found themselves back at the hallway, where Sevil was smoking.

    Sevil announced, ¡°If you are done checking in the latrine, one of the most powerful enchantments I have ever encountered is up ahead.¡±

    Toby and Ms. Ravenhair looked at each other suspiciously.  Toby inquired, ¡°Are you serious right now?¡±

    Sevil prodded at his pipe for long, dramatic, moments ¡°X class or greater.¡± he claimed, through a cloud of smoke.

    Ms. Ravenhair whistled.  ¡°Well, to be fair, it¡¯s hard to take you seriously, lounging about in the air.¡±  She pulled off her little pack, and rifled about for a moment.

    Sevil shrugged, ¡°Four more minutes, by my estimate.  Waste not, want not.¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair seemed to find what she was looking for, pulling out a bright golden cape.  She clasped it around her neck, and Julie asked, a little judgmentally, ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    She retorted, ¡°Deflection.¡±

    Julie thought about it as they made their way up the hall, and asked ¡°If it¡¯s so good, why don¡¯t you wear it all the time?¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair cast her a hurt glance, ¡°Well, look at it!¡±  She flipped the cape over her shoulder and it shot sparkles of light across the white wall.

    Toby glared at them and raised a finger to his lip, crossing the threshold into the room.  He stopped short, and dropped his axe. Ms. Ravenhair darted forward fearfully, and Julie followed with growing apprehension.  The tiny ball of light illuminated only a portion of what seemed to be a massive wall of still water. It was serene. A peaceful expanse of sand and large stones.  Sevil was the last to enter the room, and gasped audibly at the sight, quickly summoning a dozen or more of the balls of light that spread out seeking the edges of the room.

    The extra light filtered in a distinct shiver that went through the water.  It seemed the water itself was recoiling at the sudden brightness. Julie starred, enraptured, as the sand on the bottom of the tank seemed to pulse and shift; rocked by some errant wave.  They stared motionless, waiting. Toby picked his axe up, and then held it up to his chest, like a child with a doll. The grains of sand swirled and heaved yet nothing seemed to be stirring them.  The size of the tank was revealed. The far wall was countries away, light bending and shifting in the waves that slowly calmed and sank.

    The sand began to settle, revealing what was almost a mirror to the room itself. The sand, marred by the occasional boulder,  sloped gently down into a great chasm, nearly as big as the cabin Julie grew up in. Four sharp posts taller than even Toby marked the corners, ivory colored and curved.

    Sevil floated closer to the window, and then fell undignified on the floor.  He had not even gotten his robe back over his head when the floor of sand behind the window shuddered again, this time violently. One of the massive rock formations in the lake cracked and began to collapse. But no, not collapse; shed seemed the more appropriate thing, as boulders crumbled and fell revealing a gargantuan form. At first Julie could not understand the shape.  Rocks fell all around and it began to move with great urgency. Like a roach caught in the light, a tube was unfurling and thrashing furiously to hide itself again, sinking into the sand with throbbing pulses that echoed through the water.

    The tube itself was wrong. Not one long piece like the eel that had begun this whole affair, the thing seemed segmented. Ember red pike sized spikes stuck out at the end of each segment, but billowed like the bristles of some perverse broom. The brush a soot covered man in the village had been furiously plunging a chimney with came to Julie¡¯s mind for a brief moment but the space between these bristles swept the thought away. Smooth as the floor of the ruin but curved, like an impossible wheel of cheese Julie decided.  The color of the smooth barrel like sections clashed with the red of the bristles. It was a sickly orange and white, like a combination of bad cheese and a lethal mushroom. An eternity seemed to hang, while this monstrous soft spiked tube reburied itself.

    Julie gasped and clutched her sword to her breast.  She noticed that Ms. Ravenhair didn¡¯t move, she stood there staring.  Toby was muttering something under his breath that may have been a prayer, though Julie had never seen him with a god figurine.

    It was over in a moment, hidden again but for the tendrils poking out of the sand like trees wafting in a gentle breeze.

    Julie finally found words in her throat again after what felt like her whole life had been lived over again watching this horrorshow.  ¡°What, what, what?¡±

    Sevil was brushing himself off, and then he started tapping on the window.  Nothing happened. Ms. Ravenhair ran over to his side, and pulled on his shoulder, ¡°What are you doing!¡±

    Sevil looked like a boy playing with something he¡¯d found in the lake to Julie, he pouted, ¡°I didn¡¯t get a good look at it!  I want to see it do it again! I bet it eats fish!¡± He began muttering, and a massive shaped swelled behind the window, it looked like a fish, large as the boat they arrived on.

    After a few moments of Ms. Ravenhair cursing Sevil and his ancestors with words that Julie had never heard spoken before, the chasm lunged upwards at the shape.  Sevil muttered a few words, and time seemed to slow down, and what had once been lightning fast transpired with a painful slowness that terrified Julie.  She could count the hundreds and hundreds of segments this time, see the ruddy legs sticking out of its snakelike sides, and watch all four columns came together, failing to clasp on the illusion.  It retracted back into the hole, it¡¯s disturbing flesh retreating into the sand from which it came like a demon retreating to a nightmare.

    She looked over at Ms. Ravenhair who was still cursing, impossibly slowly now.  She watched with a mounting sense of both doom and amusement as her hand raced towards Sevil¡¯s face at the speed of a snail.  He smiled and sidestepped, and his movement looked as fast as the creature had originally. Everything jerked back into place at once, and Julie wondered if it was her imagination or if her heart didn¡¯t know how fast it was supposed to be beating.

    Ms. Ravenhair was red in the face and breathless now, but she wasn¡¯t letting that stop her from screaming, ¡°That was a Class A spell!  You just wasted half of your usefulness, you bloody showboat! After casting levitation, when featherfall would have worked just as well.  Or, you know, using the rope!¡±

    Sevil was moving his hand in the air like a mouth talking, and Ms. Ravenhair finally stopped, and turned her back on him.  He looked pleased as punch, and Julie kept feeling the edges of her mouth moving, but she really didn¡¯t want to laugh.

    Toby was running his hands all over the colossal window, and when Julie looked closely he seemed to be putting his face right up against the glass.  Unperturbed by the argument, he looked over at Sevil and said, ¡°So, is the monster magic? Or is it the tank?¡±

    Sevil looked at Toby, and then at Ms. Ravenhair¡¯s back.  ¡°All I can feel right here is the enchantment holding the water back.  I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on behind it, but if I had to guess, I¡¯d say they were studying that thing.  It very well may not be magic, I¡¯ve heard stories, you know, of ships-¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair turned around sharply and stood with her face almost touching Sevil¡¯s, ¡°You. Are. A. Child!¡±  She stormed off back down the hall that had led them here. Julie followed after her, all thoughts of ghouls completely gone from her mind.  She was almost surprised when they passed straight through the room with the sinkhole and right into a group of five ghouls. Julie hadn¡¯t been able to catch up with Ms. Ravenhair, and she was just over the threshold when she saw Ravenhair swinging her skinny sword like a madwoman.  Body parts flew. Ravenhair screamed, and Julie was caught up in the war cry. She jumped into the fray, and swung her sword at the neck of a ghoul that was lunging at Ravenhair¡¯s back. She missed the neck, and the creatures soggy arm flew off. Black ichor sprayed her face and blinded her.  The creature turned from Ravenhair, and lunged at her. She thrust with her blade, piercing the creature''s chest. It slid down the blade, and her arm was under its mouth. With horror she watched it¡¯s teeth sink into her offhand, and she pulled the blade from its chest. She swung again with passion, and the blade severed its neck.  It burst into a pool of black slime, and Julie stared stupefied at her wounded hand.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    This is it.  I¡¯m going to to turn into one of them, and they¡¯ll cut my head off!  I never even got to send any money home to ma and pa.

    Fire spread from her left hand, and burned up to her shoulder.  She fell to her knees, and dropped the sword. I tried my best.

    Toby finally burst into the room with Sevil right behind him.  Ravenhair was doubled over, panting, staring at her handiwork. Julie¡¯s eyes had a chance to take in the smallest details of the room.  The room she would die in. They fell upon what looked like a dais, and a strange statue that sat upon it. It had what might have been legs, eight of them, and four tendrils sprouting from its back.  Small tendrils sprouted from an appendage at one end, and Julie worried that this bizarre statue would be the last thing she ever saw.

    Ms. Ravenhair seemed to collect herself, and she finally saw that Julie had been bitten.  ¡°Oh great! Just great!¡± She turned to Sevil who had moseyed into the room at a leisurely pace behind Toby.  Sevil was also admiring the strange statue on the dais. ¡°You bastard!¡±

    Toby ran over to Julie, and actually picked her up from the ground.  He carried her like a doll over to Sevil, who was now running his fingers over the strange statue.  ¡°Sevil! You have to save her!¡±

    Sevil gasped, ¡°Did you get bitten?¡±

    Toby roared, ¡°Of course she got bitten!  You have to save her!¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair joined the group, and looked down at Julie¡¯s wounded hand, ¡°Oh lord.  Hang on, I think I have a potion in my bag.¡± She unshouldered her small shimmering pack, and began rummaging in it.

    Julie was feeling faint and nauseous but she was also embarrassed at being carried like a child.  She thought that if Toby would set her down, she could probably stand, but the giant of a man didn¡¯t seem to think so.  He bellowed, ¡°Sevil, there¡¯s no time, healing hands! Healing bloody bloom!¡±

    Sevil¡¯s always pale face took on an even whiter shade when he looked at the bite wound on Julie¡¯s hand.  ¡°Yes, you¡¯re right. All my fault really,¡± and he began muttering the words to a spell.

    Below them, on her knees Ms. Ravenhair dug around in her bag.  She said, ¡°Oh, here it is. Now,¡± her words were cut off, and Julie saw a brilliant white flair of light that was like a flower blooming in the air above her head.  The light streamed and grew, and took on the shape of every flower Julie had ever seen in her life, before spiraling into a beam. The beam shot into her chest, and all of a sudden she felt alive.  She felt better than she had ever felt before in her life. Toby still had not set her down. When the light faded, she held up her left hand and looked at it, flexing it experimentally. It was perfect.  Everything was perfect.

    Ms. Ravenhair screamed ¡°Healing.  Bloom!¡± She screamed to shake down the walls, ¡°Healing bloom would bring someone back from the dead!  Did she look dead! Did she look dead to you Sevil!¡±

    Toby started sobbing gently, ¡°I just didn¡¯t want to lose her, Delilah.¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair turned and looked at him.  She saw the pain in his face, and she put an arm around his shoulder, ¡°Toby, it¡¯s not your fault.  You know. Losing Max, it wasn¡¯t. It wasn¡¯t your fault,¡± then she turned on Sevil, ¡°And this isn¡¯t your fault either Toby.  It¡¯s his.¡±  She said gesturing to Sevil who was doubled over on the ground, gasping for air.

    Toby finally reluctantly set Julie down on the ground.  She wanted to run, she wanted to skip and jump and play!  She stood up awkwardly. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± She piped, ¡°We¡¯ve got work to do!  Let¡¯s go!¡± She¡¯d never felt so alive.

    Ms. Ravenhair looked at her, ¡°Yeah, I bet you feel great.  But look at him!¡± She gestured to Sevil who had risen to his feet, and was fumbling for his pipe.  He finally got it between his teeth, and lit it with a sulphur match.

    Julie looked from face to face.  Toby had gained control over himself and seemed to be trying desperately to lapse into his usual stoicism.  Ms. Ravenhair was now walking in the front of the group, and as they made their way back to the room with the sinkhole, Sevil seemed to be limping.  He was weaving back and forth like he was drunk, and using the wall to steady himself as he went.

    When they reached the rope, Ravenhair turned to Sevil and said, ¡°Up you go.  If you can climb in that state, and if you don¡¯t mind getting your delicate hands dirty.¡±

    Sevil took a long breath of air, ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± he scowled venomously, ¡°I¡¯m still useful, unless all of a sudden you¡¯ve learned to detect thaumic fields and discern their nature.¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair sighed wearily.  ¡°Stay here and get your dagger ready.  I don¡¯t want to have to carry you.¡±

    Sevil reached for his belt and rather than drawing his blade, he produced a hip flask.  He opened it with shaky hands, and took a long pull from it. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± and then he added monotone, ¡°I know my job.¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair shrugged.  Toby seemed to have regained full control of his wits, and Julie still felt spry.  She felt wonderful. She wanted a drink of whatever was in that flask.

    They turned left, walking in a tight circle.  Sevil still weaved slightly, but he was doing his best to hide it, and breathing easier.  Surreptitiously, he did draw his dagger, casting a glance in Ravenhair¡¯s direction as he did so.  The lights that were following them had faded to a dim ghost of what they once were, and as they reached a four way intersection, they faded entirely.

    Pitched into darkness, the sounds of growls seemed to come from everywhere.  With a burst of sparks, light shined from Ms. Ravenhair who was up ahead, and Julie saw she had lit a torch.  Shapes were moving towards them, and Julie was excited. Shadows flickered upon the walls, and Julie followed Ms. Ravenhair who had taken the right turn.  Toby crept in front of her, and the three of them crossed the threshold almost shoulder to shoulder.

    They entered the room by torchlight, but as they entered powerful white light shined down from the ceiling.  In it, they could see tables mounted to the floor, covered with what looked like broken glass and strange equipment.  Everything seemed like it had been smashed in a violent rage, and it quickly became apparent who had smashed it. Three ghouls were standing motionless behind the tables, wearing the same eerie white coats.  Julie wondered as she charged ahead of her companions, if all ghouls wore long white coats.

    She vaguely heard Ms. Ravenhair say something but it was drowned out by her own scream as she vaulted her slender frame over the table in front of her.  She landed gracefully, and sprung up, swinging her sword up as she did so. It sliced through the leg of the ghoul closest to her, and it fell. Not wasting a moment, she took another swing, and lobbed off the head of a second ghoul before it could even turn.  The third was quicker though, and it moved to grab her, teeth snapping blindly. Reflexively, she punched it in the face with the heavy handguard on her sword, and when it reeled back, she sliced through its throat with a backhand swing. The ghoul that had lost a leg was trying to crawl towards her.  Without hesitation, its head was cut from its throat. Julie reveled in another fresh spray of black ichor. Her eyes darted around madly looking for more prey.

    Toby and Ravenhair had crossed the room, and now stood on either side of her, looking somewhat wary.  Sevil was leaning on the threshold and said, ¡°I think there¡¯s some low level enchantment in this room, give me a moment.¡±  Moments were not to be just given though, and Julie started scouring the floor and tables, looking for anything alive or magical.  Or at the very least not broken. A strange pair of riding goggles caught her eye, and she picked them up.  The lenses were unmarred, and clear. The goggles seemed to be the only thing in the room that hadn¡¯t been smashed.  Delighted, she carried them over to Sevil.

    ¡°What about these?¡±  She asked, pressing them into Sevil¡¯s still shaky hand.

    He sniffed them, and then surprisingly he placed them over his eyes.  Gasping, he quickly removed them. ¡°These may be of some worth, yes.¡± He muttered, trying to sound indifferent, but his eyes gave away his excitement.

    Julie grabbed them from his hand, and she placed them over her own eyes.  At first everything looked the same, then things started to take on a different appearance.  There was a faint glow around Sevil, and when she turned to look at the others, they too had a strange glow.  She turned back to Sevil, and looked past him into the dark hallway, only now it wasn¡¯t dark. It was green! It was green and in the distance she could see another ghoul moving.  The ghoul was almost the same shade of green as the walls, but she could clearly make out its form as a darker blob. She turned again to tell Ms. Ravenhair, and suddenly lights flashed out from her.  She could see a glowing blue outline around each of her rings, and a glowing orange outline from her necklace. The lights turned off, and there was just the faintly orangish glow around her whole body once more.

    ¡°There¡¯s another ghoul in the hall!¡±  Julie exclaimed, excited, ¡°I can see in the dark, and I think I can see enchantments!¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair quickly crossed around the tables and put her hand on Julie¡¯s shoulder to hold her back, ¡°That¡¯s very nice, but I think you should calm down now.  We¡¯ll all head back out there together.¡±

    Sevil was blocking the threshold, he snarled through clenched teeth, ¡°Give me those, you don¡¯t know how to use them!¡±

    Julie felt hurt for a moment, and then she started to take the goggles off.  Ravenhair¡¯s hand caught her own and she said, ¡°She¡¯s more right to ¡®em. I mean, that¡¯s the rule right.  Find something and you get first crack at it.¡±

    Sevil looked from face to face, and through the goggles, Julie could see little waves running through his glow.  He snapped, ¡°But she¡¯s not even a member!¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair spoke in a cold voice, ¡°Look at this room!  Look at those three puddles over there, and tell them she¡¯s not a member.  If she wants them, they¡¯re hers.¡± Then in a much warmer tone to Julie, ¡°Let¡¯s go get that other one.  Together.¡±

    They made their way back to the four way intersection, Sevil was muttering under his breath the whole way.  The light that came from the ceiling was apparently only working in the room they¡¯d just left, and so the ghoul at the intersection was killed by torchlight.  Toby¡¯s axe lobbed the creature¡¯s head off easily. Julie could see now, almost as clearly as in daylight. She looked down the hall to the right, and could see a room in the distance.  The end of the hall straight ahead was too distant however. She thought if she could figure out the way, she could probably see to the end of it though, even in the darkness.

    Sevil seemed thoroughly exhausted, he was taking another pull from his flask, and a disappointed look crept over his face when he pulled it from his lips.  He held it upside down, and nothing poured out. ¡°So much for that,¡± he muttered. ¡°There¡¯s a decent level enchantment down in that room to the right. I¡¯ll lead.¡±  He commanded indignantly.

    Julie shrugged and followed as he rushed down the hall.  She wondered just how upset he was about the goggles, and idly thought about just giving them to him.  They¡¯re mine.  Ravenhair said so.

    Toby was trying to get ahead of him, but rage seemed to give Sevil a new burst of energy.  Julie watched through the goggles as he crossed into a seemingly empty room. White light blinded her momentarily, and when she could see again, it was like there was a glowing white wall between Sevil and Toby.  Toby was pounding on it, and Ms. Ravenhair was running to catch up. Julie sprinted madly to the end of the hall, and took off the goggles.

    A strange feminine voice was booming in her ears when she got there, ¡°Unauthorized thaum field.  Auto-defense protocol engaged.¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair uttered a curse.  Toby swung his axe at the invisible wall separating him from Sevil, and it rebounded.  Sevil was screaming something, but no sound seemed to escape. He quickly produced a piece of paper and some sort of quill, and then pressed it against the translucent barrier.

    LOOK FOR THE RELEASE

    His face looked angry and shameful, and Julie slipped the goggles back over her eyes.  She could see the wall clearly now, and she could see in the light of the torch as if she was in daylight.  ¡°What does he mean ¡®release¡¯?¡± She asked,

    Ms. Ravenhair murmured, ¡°Some sort of switch, or lever.  We haven¡¯t seen one so far, so it must be down that last hall.¡±  Then she added, ¡°They¡¯re always down the last hall. Bloody stupid.¡±

    The energy that had filled her since the healing bloom spell entered her chest was fading, not fast enough to keep her from sprinting though.  Both Toby and Ravenhair were sprinting as well, and the strange feminine voice was still echoing all around them, talking about protocols and lockdowns.  Julie reached the intersection, and turned right without waiting for the others. With the goggles she could see in the darkness, and if anything tried to get in her way, she¡¯d cut it.

    Ravenhair and Toby were closing the gap behind her, Ravenhair in the lead.  She called out, ¡°Wait! We don¡¯t want to get separated!¡± Julie turned her head in time to see Toby run face first into another of the semi-opaque white walls.  He crashed into it, bounced off, and then started to pound on it. Julie heard the voice again talking about increasing lockdown levels.

    Julie could see another of the walls.  It coalesced in front of Ravenhair like smoke becoming solid, and Julie had time to yell stop.  Ravenhair came to a skidding halt, and then reached out her hand and touched the barrier. Julie doubled back, and looked at Ravenhair who held up one hand gesturing and mouthing, ¡°Wait!¡±

    Ravenhair set her torch on the floor, and sheathed her sword.  She closed her eyes, and brought both of her hands together in front of her.  Moments passed, and nothing happened, then a black shadow formed directly next to her.  She smiled, and nodded to the shadow, and the shadow took a step back. It looked like her in every way, except that it was completely black, and as such lacked definition.  It was like a three dimensional silhouette. Julie lifted up the goggles, but the shadow was still there. The wall was invisible now, but the shadow still bounced off of it.  It stood up, looked at Ms. Ravenhair and shrugged apologetically. Ms. Ravenhair looked at the shadow, and then at Julie on the other side of the barrier, and she smiled. It was the warmest, kindest smile Julie had ever seen.  It was a smile that said, ¡°Time to shine or time to die.¡± Julie nodded, and turned around. She slid the goggles down over her eyes, and saw a clean, ornate wooden door at the end of the hall.

    There was no enchantment on the door, at least, the goggles refused to make it glow.  When she got close enough to the door to touch it, she noticed a polished bronze plaque.  Etched in its surface were neat letters, ¡®RESEARCH DIRECTOR: JONES, MERYL¡¯ Julie tried the knob, but it did not turn.  Through her goggles, she could focus inside of the lock, and after a few moments she figured out how to control them and see lock¡¯s mechanism.  She thought that she might be able to get it open with something small, but all she had was a sword.

    Shrugging, she rapped loudly on the door, five quick pounds.  The way her mother would wake people up in the morning. ¡°Hello?¡± Julie said dubiously.

    To her shock, a deep monotone voice rattled, ¡°Do you have an appointment?  Doctor Jones is not taking walk-ins today.¡± Julie jumped and put her sword up in surprise.

    Brightly she replied, ¡°Yes, I do have an appointment!  I¡¯ve been kept waiting out here an hour already.¡±

    The buzzing voice was closer now, ¡°My apologies, Miss!  I have been having an issue with my scheduling program.¡±  She saw and heard the bolt in the door being thrown back, and the door opened.

    The door opened slowly, and the sight that greeted her had a green, glowing nametag.  It was apparently named ¡®PARS [Personnel-Assisting Robotic Scientist]¡¯ and seemed to be a silver mannequin.  The arms and legs were incredibly spindly, with round joints that seemed to be continuously moving. Where its face should have been, there was a flat oval window with lines of text glowing green, like in her goggles.

    PARS gestured inside, ¡°Please scan your badge on my convenient apparatus,¡± which appeared on its face as it was monotoned.  Julie quickly looked around the room, expecting ghouls. One wall was made of windows, each one showing a different room. She could see her party members in different screens.  In the center, larger than the rest, the water monster waited patiently at the bottom of its tank. A large chair faced the wall, behind a massive desk with many sleek black drawers.

    PARS¡¯ message was repeated once more, before saying ¡°Authorization failed.¡± and Julie looked back at him.  His outstretched hand emitted sparks arcing through its metallic fingers, and started shooting out towards nearby objects.  Julie whipped her sword up, aiming up into a joint at the leg, prying it out, popping the leg out of its socket.

    The machine toppled to the ground as it emitted loud buzzing sounds and sparks in every direction, monotone voice calling loudly now, ¡°ERROR.  ERROR. HARDWARE MAINTENANCE REQUIRED. IMMEDIATE MAINTENANCE DRONE REQUESTING.¡±

    Julie heard a slow clapping from behind the chair.  She raised her sword as the chair swiveled around, and a small, shrunken possibly-human figure wearing a light gray jacket and trousers and a brightly white shirt.  The creature was still clapping its dry, dusty hands together and shaking its disturbingly bandaged head.

    Julie raised her sword and said, ¡°Where is the containment release?  Stop the alarm.¡±

    The creature raised a silver box to its throat and a horrible vibrating voice intoned, ¡°I hope you are proud of yourself.  PARS was the last member of my staff.¡± It reached one hand behind itself without looking, opened a drawer and pulled out a curved metal pipe with a handle.

    Julie faltered, ¡°That¡¯s not the release is it.¡±

    The creature talked again, ¡°Au contraire, mon cherie.  This is your release.¡±  A huge cracking sound burst in her ears.  She felt like she had been run through with an impossibly sharp skewer.

    She doubled over.  Knees hit the floor.  Hands scrabbled on the slick finished wood.  She coughed. She gagged, and heaved up bile.

    On her side, she lay.  The creature was making its way from behind the desk.  For the second time today, Julie thought she was going to die.  The creature stepped over her, and instead knelt next to the still-sparking PARS.  The vibrating voice said, ¡°I think I might be able to repair you.¡±

    Julie felt blindly with her hand, until she found the grip of her sword.  She pushed herself onto her other elbow, pushing one knee under her. Through her goggles, the creature was named ¡®MERYL JONES, PhD; DIRECTOR OF MARINE RESEARCH-DEEP SEA DIVISION.¡¯  Julie gritted her teeth, she wondered if she was bleeding. She didn''t feel any blood. She felt angry though. She called out, ¡°Meryl!¡±

    The creature turned its head, surprise showing even through the bandages.  Julie swished her blade through the air, and cut deep into the upper part of the creature right arm.  The metallic box skittered across the floor, and Julie stood up, warily. ¡°Where. Is. The release!¡± She raised the sword again, and brought it down to the creature''s throat.  The creature said nothing, and Julie began slicing through the bandages. One by one they fell, and black flesh started to become apparent. ¡°I¡¯m not asking you again, Meryl.¡±

    With its one remaining arm, the horror at her feet gestured towards the silver box that had skidded across the floor.  Julie looked at it, and then back at the wretch. She stepped slowly back towards the box, and cast her eyes at the desk.  The metallic tube with the handle sat safely there, and Julie kicked the rectangular silver box across the floor.

    ¡°Release is, under the panel, below the center screen.¡±  The voice vibrated from inside the silver box at the fiend¡¯s throat.

    ¡°You do it,¡± Julie said.  She stepped closer again, to place the blade under Meryl¡¯s chin.  With the tip of her sword, she nudged until the research director was standing.  Dr. Jone¡¯s looked at the box in her hand, and awkwardly sat it on the table in front of the wall covered in magical windows.  She lifted a wooden cover below the frame of the center one, revealing a large red button, which she pressed.

    Quickly she reached for the silver box, to speak.  ¡°That will shut down all the security measures. I hope you can swim.  Faster than the Bobbit!¡± She began laughing and it was a terrifying sound, like a swarm of bees.  In the window in the center of the wall, Julie could see the water sloshing over the top of the barrier, and more and more of it was filling the image.  The Bobbit was disturbed by this, and thrashed about wildly. In other screens, she could see each of her friends, no longer trapped, rushing in her direction.  I have to save them!

    Julie dashed for the door, and behind her she heard Meryl limping across the room.  She turned in time to see her pick up the weapon and place it against her head. Julie shuddered and ran out the door, screaming, ¡°The ward is broken!  The monster is released!¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair was the first to reach her, and she demanded ¡°What¡¯re you on about?¡±

    Toby was quick to catch up as well, and with a brief explanation from Julie they all darted back towards the four way intersection, turning towards the hole leading outside.  Julie could see Sevil up ahead, he was still moving slowly. Toby bellowed out, ¡°Waterbreathing! Now!¡±

    A flash of teal light, and Julie could see a faint blue and green glow undulating around everyone¡¯s face.  The four of them rounded the bend turning right, and dashing back towards the room with the sinkhole. Then she saw it, up ahead, a wall of sand and water and mud.  It crashed into them, and swept them off their feet, pushing them backwards. Julie had always been a strong swimmer, she¡¯d grown up near a lake, but in her armor and with one or more broken ribs, she felt helpless.

    The current carried her back, all the way back to the intersection, and even with the goggles she had trouble seeing anything.  Then a massive hand caught her wrist, and she was pulled forwards. Toby pulled her under his arm, and kicked with his powerful legs, propelling them back towards the room with the sinkhole.

    The light from above filtering down looked like golden rays of hope, and she could just make out Ms. Ravenhair pushing Sevil up the rope.  Toby moved through the water like a fish, and Julie wonder how he could with the weight of his axe and the added weight of her. He burst through the surface, and caught hold of Ravenhair¡¯s hand.  He threw Julie through the rushing water, and she used what little reserves of energy she had left to clamber over him, and up onto the rope.

    For a brief moment hope swelled in her bosom, and then she saw the worm beast.  It was rocketing into the room with unnatural speed, scraping along the walls of the hall it was almost too big to fit through.  It ricocheted off every surface, seeking a spot to lay its trap once more, tangling on the walls and thrashing wildly.  Julie didn¡¯t have time to wrap the rope around herself, and she was just climbing hand over hand. Ravenhair was right behind her, and Toby at the very bottom, dangling still half in the water like someone¡¯s sick idea of bait.

    Once everyone had a firm grasp, Ms. Ravenhair shout something, and the rope became taut in Julie¡¯s hands, and she could feel herself being pulled up.  She looked down at the rising water, and the worm had untangled itself, but now the rope was pulling faster and faster, and although Toby was still at the very bottom, they were practically shooting up the sinkhole.  The water was still rising, but the rope pulled and pulled, and soon Julie could see the edge of the hole. She clambered over the side and looked for the person pulling the rope up, but all she saw was Tertius, wearing a hat he had apparently woven out of grass.  He was gazing at Sevil who looked to be unconscious by the side of the hole.

    Ravenhair was next out of the hole, and Toby was quick behind her, bellowing, ¡°Go! Go! Go!¡±

    Julie tried to grab Sevil, but she could barely maintain her own weight.  The pain in her chest was radiating through her whole body. It felt like a heat that spread through her and made her sluggish and weak.  Toby scooped up the slender, pale man as if he were a fallen doll, and Ravenhair quickly grabbed her rope and the tiny weight that had secured it to the ground.  Tertius broke into a run to keep up, and as Julie looked back she saw the gargantuan head of the barn sized bear trap worm shoot out of the hole and snap around wildly, before retreating.  The head pulled back, clasped jaws to slowly opening, until it seemed the hell worm would rip itself apart.  They locked open with a booming crunch, settled, and began to slither up the bank onto the grass combing everything within reach; three score of headless snakes hunting.

 Emile 8

    ¡°Aye captain, it seemed like the right thing to do!¡±  The man who was speaking looked strong though ropey. He was naked above the waist, and his pants looked strange to Emile.  It seemed like each leg was inside of its own oversized grey bag. He was dark skinned and had long greasy hair. A gold earring twinkled in the sunlight off the water.  The man was called Montoya, but he had told Emile to call him Monty when she met him playing dice. He and the men he played with had all been sitting in the shadow cast by the sleek black ship, Duress.

    The captain was a person unlike any Emile had ever seen before, though she knew right away she was an Otterman.  She was covered in slick fur from head to toe, and had a long wide paddle like tail that was tapping impatiently on the deck of the ship.  She stood barring Monty and Emile from crossing onto the ship from the gangplank. ¡°Monty, whee in the se¡¯en ¡®ells di¡¯ yeh thin¡¯ tha¡¯ bree¡¯in¡¯ a li¡¯l ¡®irl onna meh ship wa¡¯ a ged idee?¡±  Emile was struggling to understand her, she spoke very fast and with a strange accent. The captain did not look angry, although her facial expression was hard to read through all the fur.

    Emile decided that it would probably be better if she just explained the situation herself, ¡°I need to get to Two Lanes, and he said that that was where your ship was headed.  I won¡¯t be any trouble at all.¡± Emile¡¯s voice had a soft edge to it, like a length of silk wrapped around someone¡¯s throat.

    ¡°Oi!  Net eeny treble eh?  Sure yeh won¡¯! Yeh ent gettin¡¯ onna meh ship!¡±  The captain looked down at Emile and her long whiskers twitched and then drooped when she saw Gypsum also standing on the gangplank, ¡°An wha¡¯ in ¡®ell es tha¡¯ thin!  Sem grea¡¯ bleddy lizar¡¯!

    Emile turned and looked back at Gypsum, then she looked at the captain again, ¡°Please, we won¡¯t be any trouble I promise, and Gypsum will even catch any rats you have on the ship, she¡¯s better than a cat.  Please! You¡¯re already going to be going, you should let me ride along.¡± Emile was concentrating very hard on keeping her tone soft and polite. People always want to help if you¡¯re polite.  She was trying hard not to think about how much time had already elapsed since she¡¯d left Kentvale.

    ¡°Ketches rats eh?  Oy meet ken¡¯setter it, oy meet indee¡¯,¡± the captain dropped her voice conspiratorially and leaned so close to Emile that her long whiskers tickled Emile¡¯s face, ¡°yeh ken ride wit¡¯ us eef¡¯n yeh can pay.  Two plet¡¯num.¡±

    Two platinum?  That¡¯s nothing.  Emile was about to say that she would be more than happy to pay when she realized with mounting horror that of all the supplies she had packed for the journey, she forgot to bring money.  No one has ever asked me to pay for anything!  ¡°I can pay,¡±  Emile said, worrying, ¡°I just need some time to go and get my money.¡±

    ¡°Meh ship es leavin¡¯ at high tide.  Wit¡¯ or wit¡¯out you!¡± The captain straightened up and pointedly tap on the deck of the ship with her tail a few times as if to punctuate her statement.  Monty looked at Emile with an apologetic shrug and ran ahead onto the ship, quickly disappearing amidst all of the scurrying busy looking sailors.

    Emile crossed the gangplank back onto the dock, and told Gypsum that she would need to stay by the ship.  There were cargo boxes that didn¡¯t seem like they were being loaded or unloaded, and so Emile told Gypsum to hide behind the boxes and wait for her.  Then she made her way back across the dock into part of Puissant City that had overflowed the city walls and existed largely to service sailors.

    Most of the buildings were very shabby looking, many of them with people strewn about on the street in front of them looking like they were sleeping.  I wonder why they don¡¯t sleep inside, I bet some of these are inns.  Emile looked at one of the men who was sleeping, his head propped up on a pile of ropes.  He was wearing only a ragged pair of short pants, and his skin had a sunburnt look that must have been painful.  There was a strange and intricate tattoo surrounded by burn marks just above his forearm. Emile quickly hurried on away from the man when he stirred.

    A very scantily clad woman was leaving against the wall of another building.  The building itself seemed to be falling apart, the paint had become a sort of greyish no color and the woodwork around the broken windows looked like it would leave splinters in her hand.  Emile approached the woman and asked, ¡°Do you have any money?¡±

    The woman jumped, looking startled, once she collected herself she responded, ¡°No, and you shouldn¡¯t be here this is a dangerous place, especially for a little girl.¡±

    Undeterred Emile asked, ¡°You don¡¯t have any money at all?¡±

    The woman stood up a little more properly and looked down at Emile beneath the swell of her enormous bosom.  She looked very tired to Emile, her hair was a dingy yellow and looked unwashed, and her clothes looked like they may have been very nice once, but had been worn for a week without cleaning them, ¡°Vance has all the money, I really don¡¯t think you should be here, is your mother around here?  You Sash¡¯s girl?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know anyone named Sash.  Where is Vance?¡± Emile¡¯s eyes had lit up and she felt hope growing in her heart when she heard the phrase ¡®all the money.¡¯

    ¡°Vance is inside, you live in the city?¡±

    ¡°Oh no, I¡¯m glad I don¡¯t live here, this place seems terrible.  So Vance is in there,¡± Emile pointed to the door behind the woman.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Yeah Vance, he stays inside unless there¡¯s trouble with the bait girl, hasn¡¯t been none lately though what with the tax collectors and their thugs roaming up and down the docks.¡±

    ¡°Perfect, thank you!  I¡¯ll go and talk to Vance!¡±  Emile moved as if you walk past the woman.

    ¡°You can¡¯t go in there!  Only johns and us working girls can go inside!¡±  The woman gently caught Emile, her hand resting on the fine mail that covered Emile¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°I can go inside if you let me.  I won¡¯t be in there for long.¡± Emile pulled past the woman and spoke soothingly.

    The woman seemed to be considering this for a moment and then finally she spoke again looking dreamy, ¡°I guess if you are quick about it, but I don¡¯t think Vance will like to see you in there.¡±

    Emile opened the door with great care, noticing that it was only attached to the wall by the top hinge.  She had thought the outside of the building was filthy but it did nothing to prepare her for what she saw inside.  There appeared to only be one large common room separated into many smaller areas by semi-opaque screens that may have been white at one point.  Behind the screens Emile could hear grunting and heavy breathing. Standing right at the entrance was a paunchy man whose stomach hung over his belt.  His chest and belly were almost as furry as the Otterman captain¡¯s had been, and he wore a big black beard that reached down to his waist. His hair was long and black and stringy on the sides and he was bald on the top with ugly warts all over his face.  His nose was crooked and when he opened his mouth to yell at Emile she saw that he was missing almost all of his front teeth.

    ¡°What the fuck do you think you are doing!¡±  A powerful stench seemed to follow each of his words on his breath as he moved quickly to intercept Emile.  He was carrying a mean looking cudger like the one Emile¡¯s father had kept behind the bar. ¡°You turn around and get out of here right now, you little bitch!  Where¡¯s Claire? Who¡¯s supposed to be watching the door!¡±

    Emile took a step back not because she was afraid of the man, but because the stink coming off his breath made her stomach lurch like she was going to throw up.  ¡°Please, just calm down,¡± Her voice was soft and delicate, barely audible amidst all the sounds emanating from the chambers that were cordoned off with screens. ¡°I just need to ask you something, you don¡¯t want to yell.¡±

    Vanced looked down at Emile, and he seemed to be weighing her worth with his dark eyes, they scanned her strangely armored head, and settled on each of her rings momentarily before returning to her eyes, ¡°What are you doing in here?¡±  He growled, still sounding angry but no longer yelling.

    ¡°I need money, and I was told that you had all the money.¡±  Emile wanted to take another step back but the door had closed behind her and her back was almost up against it.

    Vance spoke sounding wistful, ¡°Ahh, so that¡¯s how it is?  You¡¯re too young, come back in three or four years and I got a place for you.  Where did you get those rings, did you steal them?¡± The man made as if to grab at her.

    ¡°They¡¯re mine, and you don¡¯t want to try and take them!¡±  Emile spoke quickly, and the man reeled back as if he had been struck, ¡°You want to help me though, don¡¯t you?¡±

    A glazed look crawled over Vance¡¯s grizzled face, and when he spoke his words were thick, he sounded as if he was talking in his sleep, ¡°Help you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, help me.  I need two platinum, and you should help me get it.  It¡¯s for a good cause.¡± Emile was glancing behind the man¡¯s back looking to see if anyone had heard the yelling and was going to come out from behind the screens to investigate.

    ¡°Ten gold a throw, got no platinum here.¡±  The big man looked sad at this, ¡°I only have gold.¡±

    ¡°Two hundred gold chips would be fine, Vance.  Do you have two hundred chips?¡± The man turned started walking back to the chair he had been sitting on when Emile had walked in.  He moved to chair aside and then removed three false floor boards. From the hole in the floor he produced a heavy metal box. He pulled a key on a long cord out from inside his pants, and opened the box with it.  Emile had very slowly crossed the room towards him and leaned to look over his shoulder into the box. Hundreds of gold chips sparkled in the dim light and the man began counting them out one at a time onto the floor.

    One of the screens slid open and man wearing the same sort of pants that Montoya had been wearing appeared followed by a woman wearing a crooked tiny little red dress.  The man in the sailor¡¯s pant said, ¡°She said to pay you, not her.¡±

    Vance did not look up from his counting, and when he didn¡¯t answer again for a third time, the woman walked up to where Vance was counting, and tapped him on the shoulder, ¡°Vance,¡±  She said sounded somewhat angry, ¡°Vance, what¡¯s wrong with you!¡±

    The sailor noticed Emile, and was looking back and forth between Emile and the man counting gold chips on the floor, ¡°What kind of place you running here?¡±  The sailor asked, ¡°That girl looks like she hasn¡¯t had her first blood yet.¡±

    Vance was still counting, ¡°One hundred sixty-four, one hundred sixty-five, one hundred sixty-six,¡±

    The woman looked at Emile horror-stricken, and said, ¡°What are you doing!  Did you bewitch him?¡±

    Emile shrugged and smiled nonchalantly, ¡°He¡¯s just counting me out two hundred chips, you didn¡¯t have any platinum.¡±

    ¡°Vance!  Vance!¡± The woman was shaking his shoulders now, ¡°Vance what¡¯s gotten into you!¡±

    Emile said in a glossy voice, ¡°You don¡¯t want to shake him, you¡¯re going to make him lose count.¡±

    The woman looked as if she was going to try and shake him again, and then seemed to lose interest in it, ¡°What do you need the money for?¡±  She asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to get to Two Lanes, I need to get a wizard to help me pa.  It¡¯s going to cost me two platinum to get on the ship and I have to get there fast because my pa¡¯s sick.¡±  Her voice hitched as she said this, and she took a few deep breaths to steady herself.

    The woman seemed to consider this for a moment and then said, ¡°You can¡¯t afford passage, and you think you¡¯re going to be able to afford a wizard?¡±

    The sailor was watching the scene unfold and seemed to be growing very tense.  All of a sudden he jumped forward in a burst of speed and threw the door open. Then he was gone.

    The woman had moved too slow to grab the sailor, she shrieked, ¡°Vance!  We got a runner, you gotta do something!¡±

    ¡°One hundred ninety-seven, one hundred ninety-eight, one hundred ninety-nine, two hundred!¡±  He smiled triumphantly at Emile, and then suddenly seemed to hear the shrieking woman who was pointing at the door desperately.  Moving far faster than most men his size, he was up on his feet, and out the door bellowing his cudgel held high.

    Emile began scooping the gold chips from the floor into a small pocket on the side of her backpack.  With a shrug and a sigh the woman knelt down to help her. ¡°Good luck in Two Lanes, I¡¯ve not heard much lately, ever since the king issued those edicts, there haven¡¯t been many travelers up here from down that way.¡±  They put the last chips in the pocket, and Emile fixed her bag back on her back.

    Back outside Emile made her way through the docks back to the Duress.  Gypsum was dozing in the sun behind the crates where Emile had left her.  As Emile approached, she opened one eye lazily and lifted her green muzzle.  Emile smiled warmly and the dragon rose, stretching and arching her back as she did.

    They crossed the gangplank again, and as she reached the edge of the ship the captain jumped down from above and landed directly in front of Emile with a thud.  Her whiskers twitching wildly she said, ¡°Oi, righ¡¯,¡± she leaned in very close to Emile¡¯s face and whispered, ¡°yeh ge¡¯ the plet¡¯num?¡±

    Emile shifted her bag off of one of her shoulders, and brought it before her chest.  She opened the small side pocket, and patted the bottom making it jingle audibly. ¡°I got two hundred gold.¡±

 Julie 8

    Julie woke up in a huge, soft bed. The first thing she noticed was that she was completely naked beneath the heavy quilt. She panicked for a moment, searching for her sword. Then she noticed that Ravenhair was sitting next to her in a very old fashioned chair writing in a leather-bound book. The pain was completely gone from her ribs. Although she had just been sleeping, she felt weary down to her bones.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re awake, hun? How¡¯re you feeling?¡± Ravenhair asked, looking over the top of the book.

    Julie thought about the question before answering, ¡°Hungry, I guess. And still tired, what time is it?¡± The only light in the windowless room came from a small oil lamp sitting on the ornate table next to the bed.

    ¡°Late, we¡¯ve been back for hours. I didn¡¯t want to leave your side until you woke up though. Coming off a healing draught like that can leave you disoriented. I¡¯ll bring you a tray of food.¡± She marked her place in the book with a red silk ribbon and placed it on the table next to the lamp. Then she leaned over and kissed Julie on the forehead before slipping out the heavy wooden door.

    Julie lay her head back on the overstuffed pillow, and tried to remember exactly what had happened. Most of it was clear as day in her mind, but there were foggy parts as well. Julie wondered if Sevil was awake yet. He looked like he was dying the last time she had seen him. How did he even climb the rope!

    Julie sat up again, and looked over at the book Ravenhair was writing in. It was thick and heavy with nothing on the cover, bound in aging leather. The red silk ribbon was sticking out of the top. Julie glanced at the door, and then picked up the book. Surreptitiously she opened the book, and read.

    Godsday 25, High Mellow

    Sevil is a moron. Need to decide the best way to discipline him for insubordination. Julie surprised me, going to give her a main gauche, think that will help. That bite on the hand could¡¯ve been bad. Still worried about Toby, I don¡¯t know if he¡¯s ever going to recover from losing Max. I might not either.

    There were spots that looked like they might have been tears on the page. Julie turned back a few pages back, feeling self-conscious and a little guilty.

    Planday 21, High Mellow

    Sevil¡¯s contact in Cartson said the city is no longer safe. Just as well. Frederick was grateful as always to hear news about D. Her daughter is the spitting image. He asked us to bail out some green teenager before we leave the area. Saw Fern, that was nice. Still a hound, and he still does that thing with his

    Julie felt herself blush, and quickly flipped back further in the book.

    Thaumday 20, Low Mellow

    Damn!

    I feel so much better getting rid of that vest. It was as bad as being in the Null. Almost.

    Those dwarves paid through the nose for it, but I swear that thing was killing us all. Sevil insisted we bring it up here, but he seemed like a wraith by the time we made it. Has his spring back in his step. No more matches. I swear he¡¯s smoking more just because of that.

    Saw D, that was good. I feel bad, about what happened to her, but we lost Max, so I don¡¯t feel as bad as I probably should. We¡¯ll swing by Kentvale on our way to the capital.

    Her thoughts were chased away when the door opened again. Reflexively Julie pulled the blanket up to her neck, but it was just Ravenhair carrying a heavy wooden tray laden with food and drink. Julie asked, ¡°Where are my clothes?¡±

    Ravenhair laughed and walked over the side of the bed. She balanced the tray easily on one hand, and picked her book back up from the table before placing the tray there carefully, ¡°Your bag¡¯s at the foot of the bed, but I didn¡¯t see anything very comfortable in there. I asked Tert if he had any of those silky things like we were wearing on the boat, but he said he they were all back in the boat, and for some reason there aren¡¯t any women¡¯s clothes in this whole keep.¡±

    Julie smiled at this, and looked over at the tray of food, ¡°Well, I could wear a man¡¯s shirt,¡± She picked up a big piece of bread and dipped it into the cold soup, ¡°anyway I wouldn¡¯t want him wandering in here while I wasn¡¯t dressed. He doesn¡¯t seem to knock.¡± She said this last through a mouth full of bread and soup.

    Ravenhair laughed, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that, he¡¯s way on the other side of the castle, and unlike his boat, the doors here actually lock!¡± She picked up Julie¡¯s bag from the foot of the bed and tossed it onto the bed next to her, ¡°Suit yourself though, I¡¯m going to get some sleep myself.¡± She patted Julie¡¯s hand affectionately and then added, ¡°You did real good today.¡±

    Julie was washing her food down with tepid milk from the pitcher, she decided inquired, ¡°Is Sevil all right?¡±

    Ravenhair smiled, ¡°Yeah, ¡®ceptin¡¯ for his ego. He actually wanted to go back out tonight and get another look at that thing, but Toby wouldn¡¯t let him. I¡¯ll tell you everything in the morning though, I¡¯m going to get some sleep.¡± She walked back to the door and unbolted it, ¡°Good night, Julie. Good work today, I mean it.¡±

    ¡°Good night, Ms. Ravenhair.¡±

    ¡°You can call me Delilah,¡± Ravenhair said with a wink, ¡°But only when it¡¯s just us.¡± She slipped out of the door and closed it behind her quickly.

    Julie got up and crossed the cold stone floor, quickly bolting it, before crawling back under the heavy quilt. She ate everything that was on the tray, and snuggled down under the blanket. Her bag was left lying next to her in the bed unopened, I¡¯ll just get dressed in the morning.

    <hr>

    Julie awoke to a soft tapping on her door. ¡°Hello, who is it?¡± She was still naked under the blankets.

    Tertius happily replied, ¡°Fair warrior, brave maiden, hero of my heart, ¡®tis I, Tertius Feld, Third of his name, bid you to break fasts with your cohorts with me.¡± He tried the door knob, and Julie winced at the sound.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be out soon! Where will you be?¡± She tentatively sat up with the blankets pulled protectively around her.

    Tertius assured, ¡°I will be waiting at your service, for you are wounded in your great deeds which places a debt of honor on my name forever.¡± She heard no other movement outside her door, he was waiting.

    She sighed and got up, putting her clothes on hurriedly and quietly. Her armour was missing, all she saw Ms. Ravenhair¡¯s lovely black silk dress in her pack. There was a large mirror in the corner, and she looked herself over. She stretched her ribs out, they ached horribly where she had gotten shot, but the bandages were clean. Underneath, there did not seem to be blood clotted, but the skin was dark purple. She strapped her swordbelt on over the little dress, and laced up her heavy boots. Ridiculous!

    Backpack in hand, she opened the door. Tertius stood waiting for her, he had on the hat he made while they were working. She glanced up at the narrow windows, close to the ceiling. The light was thin and weak, blue with the early morning hour. ¡°Why are you waking me so early? We got back late last night.¡±

    ¡°Well, here is the thing, my brother says that all of my brave heros cannot stay here at the keep. Or the city. Anyway, you simply must follow me.¡± The man was red faced and sweaty. He looked like he hadn¡¯t slept at all.

    ¡°Where is Ms. Ravenhair?¡± Julie followed him as he motioned forward, trotting to keep up. She felt ridiculous in her little black dress and heavy boots, which had seemed like a fine idea the night before. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°She is this way, in the dining hall. They are all in the dining hall.¡± His voice had a whining, cracking quality. They turned a corner towards a staircase, and she could hear their voices booming in the distance.

    First it was Toby, who sounded very intent, ¡°We have our money, let¡¯s go!¡±

    Then it was a voice that Julie didn¡¯t recognize, ¡°You were lucky to get that! I saw that thing you left in the field, and you want to talk about public safety! It almost killed me on me way back to the castle!¡±

    Tertius made a sort of gesture to Julie as the reached the bottom of the stairs. She wasn¡¯t exactly sure what he meant by it. ¡°You need to help calm Sevil down. I think he¡¯s means to knock down our ancestral tower. Himself.¡±

    Julie was feeling mounting anxiety in her stomach. Her ribs hurt, and she didn¡¯t want to deal with any of this. She wanted to climb back up the stairs, and under that heavy quilt. The morning was cold and the fires hadn¡¯t been lit yet, the fireplace stared at her like a cold empty face as she walked into the dining hall. She said, ¡°He can¡¯t do that! He passed out last night!¡±

    The scene that greeted her only exacerbated her anxiety. She recognized the ruddy faced man closest to her. She had met him yesterday, Reginald, captain of the guard who hated Tertius and reminded Julie of her uncle, who was a drunken bully. He was flanked by three men on one side and two men and huge woman on the other. They were all wearing armor and they all had their hands on their sword hilts. Toby was standing between the menacing group and Sevil who stood nonchalantly smoking his pipe.

    Ms. Ravenhair was sitting at one of the huge wooden tables, eating food vociferously from a plate piled high. A serving boy with a tray stood near to her, with his eyes cast downward. Observing all of this from the far side of the room was Tertius¡¯ brother Barron and his manservant William, they stood near a doorway posed to flee. William was cowering and at the same time trying to shield his master from the scene.

    ¡°I¡¯m not asking,¡± Sevil hissed, ¡°This is not a debate. I am telling you what your options are. The first is that you let me contact the University, and have them send up a crew who will dismantle the monstrosity without having it fall on your town. They¡¯ll even let you keep the materials. Your other option is that I take it down myself. I can chop off the bottom real quick, and it will fall. There¡¯s no one up there to repair it. Right?¡±

    Barron¡¯s men looked at him, hopefully. They were sweating and they were scarred, Julie could see that. She squared her shoulders, and threw her backpack over one. The men were between her and her companions, and so chin held high she crossed right through the group. Her eye met each of theirs as she walked through their ranks, and she waited until each of them looked away before moving onto the next. Then she reached Toby, and put a hand up onto his shoulder, she whispered, ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    Toby smiled down at her and grunted, ¡°Sevil. And his damn principles.¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair caught her eyes, shoved another egg into her mouth, and then stood up, wiping her hand on a linen napkin. ¡°Well¡¯p looks like we¡¯re all gathered. We need to be gettin¡¯ on the road,¡± she winked and Julie, and added, ¡°Sounds like Sevil has a call to make before we can go though. Have an egg.¡± She pushed the plate she¡¯d been eating across the table towards Julie.

    Julie looked down at the ham and eggs, and thought Might as well. She rounded the table and sat down where Ms. Ravenhair had been sitting, and started eating. It was delicious. Through bites, she asked, ¡°What¡¯s the big deal anyway? Won¡¯t it just fall down at some point anyway?¡± She dipped a piece of bread in the yolk on the plate, and tried to look as casual as Ms. Ravenhair had.

    Every single eye in the room turned towards her, and there was a moment of silence. Julie realized that perhaps that was not the right thing to say. Finally, it was Sevil who broke the silence, ¡°It will not fall, not in a hundred generations.¡± He hissed, and lit his pipe again from a flame on his fingertip. Julie could have down without the acrid smell while she was eating.

    Barron finally coughed and spoke from the doorway, ¡°It will not fall. It is of no threat to anyone. You seek to erase my family''s history!¡±

    Sevil glared at him icily, and William shrank back, but Barron met his stare. The seven guards kept their hands on their swords, and they kept glancing over to Barron hoping for some order to ease the tension. Sevil tap the ashes of his pipe out against his black boot, and let them fall on the floor, and then ground them into the floor with the sole of his boot, leaving an unsightly black smudge. Julie felt a pang of sympathy for the serving boy whose eyes had followed the boot with horror and winced.

    She decided to try a different route, ¡°Why do you need the tower? To remind you of what? I thought the towers were, ya know. Bad? Isn¡¯t that kind of a Thaumatist thing to do? To try and keep the towers up. You¡¯re not a sympathizer are you? It is a Thaumatist monument.¡±

    Barron started coughing and sputtering, and Ms. Ravenhair had a wide grin on her face. When Barron finally regained control of himself, he said hoarsely, ¡°My family was one of the first families to turn to the king! We¡¯ve been staunch royalists ever since! There¡¯s not a Thaumatist sympathizer in all my lands! For you to even make such a,¡± he launched into another coughing spell, and William gave him a hand to steady him. ¡°I will not,¡± Barron sputtered, ¡°Have that word used in this keep!¡±

    Julie looked down at the empty plate, and idly wished that there was more ham. It was really good ham, nice and crispy. She looked up from the plate, and saw tension on the faces of all the guards, but Toby¡¯s axe was still on his back, he¡¯d not made any move to reach for it, and Ms. Ravenhair was twiddling her fingers through her hair, she looked bored.

    Toby rumbled, ¡°We¡¯re not here to kill this man, it¡¯d leave this city in chaos, Sevil.¡±

    Sevil looked surprised, ¡°I¡¯m not going to kill him. That¡¯s ridiculous, he¡¯s one foot in the grave already, no matter what his healers have been telling him, bunch of frauds. Vultures, I saw them outside, sniffing after blood money. You¡¯d think a University educated man would have more sense,¡± and Sevil dug through his pockets and finally produced a silver ring, ¡°But when you¡¯re staring down the blade of a sword, with no heir. Well, I can see why you¡¯d do stupid things.¡± He removed the ring from his right hand, the ring that seemed to be made from solid ruby, and replaced it with the silvery one.

    Ms. Ravenhair stood up, and stretched like a cat, eyeing each of the guards, ¡°I¡¯m tired. I want to go back to my room and get some sleep, just make the call Sevil and let¡¯s get some rest before we head out.¡±

    William burst forth in an indignant rage, ¡°No! You are not staying here! I manage this household. You insult my master, call him a liar! Fail at the task we set you upon, and still take our money!¡±

    ¡°Now hold on,¡± Ms. Ravenhair interrupted him, ¡°We didn¡¯t fail at anything. We got rid of your ghoul infestation. It was just about to get really bad around here. When it gets into the ground like that, it can get out of hand quickly. That salt water was right convenient, flooded the whole system, I¡¯m sure. This might be the first time I¡¯m totally sure we got the entire infection.¡±

    William clamored, ¡°Oh! Oh! Oh! And what about that, that, thing you left in the field! The thing that almost killed my lord Feld.¡±

    Toby muttered, ¡°We told him not to go looking at it. Said to put up a fence. You know you could build a very nice fence with the materials from that tower. If you cared.¡±

    ¡°Quiet!¡± Sevil said, ¡°It¡¯s ringing!¡± Everyone went quiet and stared at Sevil. He cocked his head to one side. Time passed. Julie looked around, everyone seemed expectant. The air felt pregnant, she wasn¡¯t sure what was going to happen. Idly she reached into her bag, and put on her goggles. And I look even more ridiculous, no wonder Ravenhair never wears that gold cape. She looked around the room, at the glow around each person. Sevil¡¯s ring was emitting a strange blue line of light that shot through the wall. It was undulating. Text appeared in shining blue letters, with a helpful line to Sevil¡¯s ring, which said, ¡®PRIMITIVE COMMS ENCHANTMENT, SINGLE CHANNEL.¡¯ Primitive?  Julie thought.

    ¡°That¡¯s really strange,¡± Sevil said, sounding curious. ¡°No one is answering at the University.¡±

    Barron spoke for the first time without sounding furious. He sounded genuinely worried, ¡°What? There¡¯s something wrong with your ring! The switchboard, man! There¡¯s always someone, has been for a hundred years,¡± He turned to William, ¡°Go get the box next to my bed, the green one.¡±

    Sevil glanced over at Barron, ¡°You keep your ring in your bed stand? You were entrusted with that ring, but of course someone like you who supports Thaumatist monuments wouldn¡¯t take a responsibility like that seriously.¡±

    Barron did not deign to respond to this, he made his way from the threshold over to the big table Julie and Ms. Ravenhair were sitting at. All of the tension seemed to have gone out of the room. Ms. Ravenhair asked the serving boy to fetch her some strong tea, and he looked very excited to have a reason to leave the room. Julie thought of the black mark on the floor, and thought about talking to Sevil about that later. Finally, William returned looking winded, he was carrying a green jewelry box. It was bronze stylized like woven grass, painted bright green. It matched Tertius grass hat, which was the only thing anyone was wearing that made her feel less awkward about her ensemble.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see just a moment,¡± Barron muttered some words, and the box popped open. Through her goggles Julie could see a number of different colored glows radiating from within, followed by a whole list of words that popped up next to each glow. He procured a thin silver ring that seemed an exact twin of Sevil¡¯s. Her goggles identified it, ¡®PRIMITIVE COMMS ENCHANTMENT, SINGLE CHANNEL.¡¯ Julie tried to make a mental note to ask Sevil what that meant later.

    ¡°Well?¡± Sevil said after a few minutes of waiting. ¡°Anything?¡±

    Barron¡¯s face dropped and went white. His mouth hung slightly open, and he seemed not to notice, ¡°Well it seems as if our little argument may have to wait. Someone has to go to the U.¡±

    Julie piped up excitedly, ¡°We were already going to the University!¡±

    Toby, Sevil, and Ms. Ravenhair all looked at her at once. Ms. Ravenhair said, ¡°Well of course Sevil will check to see why the University is not responding. But all of this needs to happen tomorrow morning.¡±

    Sevil looked very grave, he said, ¡°No. We need to go now, I can get us there.¡±

    <hr>

 Emile 9

    The captain raised one black hand and gestured dramatically in front of Emile¡¯s face, ¡°Net so loud! Yeh try¡¯ne teh get us ¡®rrested?  Git below, an¡¯ all coun¡¯ it.¡± The captain swempt Emile up onto the ship and led her surreptitiously to a trapdoor in the deck. Emile climbed down a ladder and Gypsum simply dropped through the hole and landed in the belowdecks with a thud.  There were crates and packages strapped to the wall and to the floor everywhere Emile could see, but the captain quickly shut the trapdoor and moved what looked like a very heavy crate aside easily. Beneath it was revealed to be another trapdoor, this one ingeniously made to look as though it were part of the floor.

    There was no ladder this time, as it was only a very short drop, and inside Emile could see many people crammed together almost shoulder to shoulder.  In the dim light it was hard to tell what they looked like but they smelled of fear and desperation. The captain stood above the hole and looked expectantly at Emile.  Emile began handing up the chips of gold and the captain was counting them greedily and making them disappear into a pouch on her belt. Once all of the money had exchanged hands, she looked down at Emile again and said, ¡°Yeh ¡®ave stay down ¡®ere until we git ou¡¯ the ¡®arbor.¡±  With that she unceremoniously closed the trap door and Emile was forced to sit down as there wasn¡¯t room to stand.

    Emile couldn¡¯t see, the darkness was complete.  She tried a couple of times to make conversation with the others who were cramped below the deck but they shushed her before she could get two words out.  Feeling sad and scared, she hugged Gypsum close to her chest, and closed her eyes and tried to breathe through her mouth. I hope pa is getting better, or at least not any worse.  For the first time Emile started to wonder if it was a mistake to leave.  Her pa might have already recovered on his own, and here she was trying to traipse across the continent without so much as a note and no way to contact him.  It was cramped and smelly here and she was scared, she didn¡¯t understand why all these other people were on the ship, or why they were hiding. It was pretty obvious why they were leaving though, Cartson City is a terrible place, I hope I never have to come back.

    Time passed imperceptibly in the darkness.  Emile may have dozed, she felt as though she was dreaming, her mind and Gypsum¡¯s dancing a tango of dreams.  Emile¡¯s thoughts were matched the darkness and Gypsum¡¯s thoughts were reassuring. After what could have been hours or days, the trapdoor opened and one of the sailors called down, ¡°You lot can come up and stretch your legs a bit, we should be safe for now.¡±

    Emile was the closest to the hole, so she was pushed through by the impatient refugees.  They looked as if they had been hiding in the secret chamber for days, the men had scruffy beards on their faces, and the women all had bags below their eyes.  They all looked like their muscles hurt from the cramped quarters, and their clothes all looked dirty and disheveled. Very few had anything more with them that what they wore on their persons, and those with bags clung to them protectively as if afraid they might be taken if they loosened their grips.

    The deck of the ship was drowning in sunshine, and Emile was very grateful for the fresh sea air after the suffocation of hiding below.  Many of the others that had been hiding were walking unsteadily as if their legs had forgotten how to carry them. Emile was quite unused to the motion of the ship, and the rocking back and forth was making her feel slightly dizzy.  Her stomach lurched and she realized it had been almost a day since she¡¯d last eaten anything, and that had just been an apple. She took her bag off and began rummaging until she found some hard cheese and travel sausage. The other refugees on the decks eyed her and her cache of food hungrily.  There were so many of them staring at her and the food she was holding. Pangs of regret that she didn¡¯t have enough to share stirred in her heart.

    ¡°They must have some food for you on the ship!¡±  She cried out to noone in particular, looking defiantly at all of the greedy eyes around her.  The refugees all looked away, suddenly shame-faced. They turned their attention on the crew, and began lamenting how much they had paid for passage on the ship.  The crew seemed unperturbed and at the same time unwilling to share any rations. Finally, the captain made an appearance again.

    She was a squat creature, sleek and elegant.  She was the only Otterman on the ship and when she landed on the deck vaulting from the platform that ran around the outside of her cabin all eyes fell on her.  Slightly hunched, and barely taller than Emile she was still a commanding presence. ¡°Yeh lots ¡®ungry? Eh? Thin¡¯ yeh pay¡¯ fer room en¡¯ boar¡¯?  Yeh jes¡¯ lucky I le¡¯ yeh¡¯ lot on deck!  Gruel et sundow¡¯!¡± She cast a hard glance around taking in each and every face in turn.  Her long whiskers were twitching wildy, and her tail thumped the deck between words punctuation her already clipped sentences.  Her eyes finally fell on Emile, and the meal the girl was eating. ¡°Es net meh faul¡¯ if¡¯n a li¡¯l ¡®irl is the on¡¯y one of yeh lot teh brin¡¯ food!¡±

    The refugees looked abashed, but they bled away from Emile and clustered into tight little circles on the deck, obviously content to while away the few remaining hour before the sun went down.  Emile stuck to her place just below the captains quarters. She wanted to talk to the captain alone and find out what she could about the Ottermen empire. She had heard storied of a fabulous pleasure island where no one worked and everyone played all day, but if anything the captain seemed to be harder working than the rest of the human crew.  Emile watched her coming and going from her cabin, she swung from the rigging above with ease, and worked with each of her sailors for a few minutes before moving on. Occasionally she would return to her loft cabin above for a while, but she always came back out to check on every facet of how the ship was running.

    Gypsum nuzzled Emile¡¯s hand, and Emile felt her hunger pangs.  Reluctant to let her go, Emile thought of rats, and the boxes in the belowdecks, and Gypsum was off like a hare leaving Emile alone, staring into the deep sea.  The water was glistening like so much gold in the setting sun, and Emile¡¯s mind drifted. Her pa was counting on her, but her certainty was faltering. No!  A wizard will help me!  She kept trying to reassure herself that she was doing the right thing.  She pulled her map from out of her pack, and tried to read it in the fading light. According to the map she was just outside of the capital, but it was hard to tell with the map shrunk small enough to fit in her hands.  She was afraid to enlarge it at all in front of all these strangers, so she put it away.

    When the sailor came around with the ladle and a bucket of some grey paste for her to eat, she shook her head and he went on.  There was a barrel of water strapped to one of the masts, and she drank from it a few times before finally heading down to the cargo hold.  Gypsum was curled up in a ball in the corner, and Emile hugged herself close to her dragon. She slept fitfully, lulled in and out of sleep by dreary thoughts and the motion of the ship.

    By the morning light Emile crawled up the ladder to the deck of the ship.  All of the refugees were still sleeping or at least pretending too, scattered around the the cargo in protective knots of those they were familiar with.  On the deck above, Emile watched the sailors going about the work of sailing the ship. She was curious about the rigging and how the sails worked, but all of the shirtless sailors looked very busy at their tasks.  The captain was nowhere to be seen, so she tried to content herself staring over the baugh of the ship at the distant coast.

    Her map revealed that they were at least halfway down the coast now.  One more day at this rate.  There was very little food left in her little pack.  Self-consciously she nibbled on a hard piece of cheese, and watched the motion of the water.  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    There seemed to be another ship in the distance.  It was bearing down on them, moving faster even than the ship Emile was on.  As it grew closer she spotted them, the black flags flapping in the heavy wind.  Voices were shouting now, she could hear the sailors ushering the refugees below, she felt heavy hands on her shoulder, and pulled her eyes from the ship for a moment to see a sailor trying to pull her away from the rail.  He was shouting in her face, and Emile felt a moment of fear before the burst of green fog reached his face. The sailor fell onto his back, unmoving.

    Emile looked down at the little dragon, she felt relief and gratitude mingling with regret.  Well, he was being rude.  Her eyes were pulled back to the ship bearing down on them in the distance.  It was close enough now that she could see the women and men scurrying back and forth on its deck, swords held high, jeering.  A man in a black billowing robe was standing at the bow of the other ship, lightning crackling in his hands. He¡¯s controlling the wind.  A vicious looking black spike jutted out of the nose of the pirate¡¯s ship, with many rear facing hooks.  Emile finally saw the captain, she seemed to dive out of the water next to the ship and landed, shaking out her fur, sending water flying everywhere.  She was screaming, and the sailors were moving this way and that, pulling ropes and tying them off. Emile looked at the ship with its black sails and black flags, it was so close now, it was going to collide.  Everything slowed down, and she looked down at her hand, and saw the way things could be. The ring she was wearing could see the motion of both ships as well, could see all of the motion. Sailors and pirates, even the water itself.  The ring thought that the ships didn¡¯t need to collide.

    Emile clapped her hands together and raised her left hand out in front of her, palm up.  It was not a difficult thing, not really, the concept was simply like a puzzle picture, like seeing a pattern.  The ring knew that the ship was going to stop, and Emile knew it as well. Her mind emptied and all fear and worry drained away in that moment.

    Water sloshed mightily in every direction from the pirate ship, the men and women on the deck were all thrown forward, including the man in the black robes.  Some fell over the sides, most grabbed onto something. The two ships were less than an arrows shot apart, but the pirates ship was no longer moving, though the strange unnatural wind was still bellowing around its sails.  The man in the black robes straightened himself up and started barking orders. Strange looking devices were brought forward, and huge arrows with ropes trailing behind them sailed over the side of the ship. They thudded heavily into the wood, and caught with their gnarled hooks.  The ropes were thick and heavy things.

    The Otterman captain and her sailors did their best, they ran from rope to rope, cutting at them with their boot knives, but it was too late for many of them.  The pirates came sailing over the side of the ship the way the arrows had, sliding on the ropes with their blades or strange wheeled devices.

    Emile felt power.  She felt fatigue too, but it was like a fly buzzing around the inside of her mind, the swell of power in her left hand was like the tide.  Like the sun. The first pirate to reach her was a red faced man, and he cackled madly as he tried to grab her. Gypsum reared up on her hind legs, but before she could bellow the green fog, Emile struck the man in his midsection.  Her hand punched through his stomach with the force of the ship. Blood spattered in every direction, and drenched her face. She wiped it away absentmindedly with her right hand, and with her left hand she whipped up and through his body, splitting everything above his navel in half.

    She heard the pirates shrieking now, they were saying mage.  Mage! Mage! And they were backing up. The man in the black robes on the other ship started summoning a ball of fire.  Emile could see the words he spoke.  He was going to try and burn her.  This simply wouldn¡¯t do.  The ring on her right hand understood burning, and with a flick of her mind, she let the ring know, that yes, it was correct to believe huge streams of electric energy were recoiling between her hand and everyone near her.  The beam of lightning struck the nearest person, whether he was one of the pirates or a sailor was no longer a concern. The lightning branched out, and every person it struck fell to the ground. It raced across the ropes back to the pirates ship, and she could hear the man in the robes stop summoning his fire.  He was quick though to get a shield up. He ran now. Emile summoned more lightning, she saw out of the corner of her eye the Otterman captain dive off the side of the ship with a fearful look back at her. Gypsum seemed to be caught up in the same fever that was ushering Emile to summon more lightning. The lightning was like sunbeams breaking through the green clouds that covered the entire deck.  Nothing moved, the decks of both ships were on fire.

    Where is he!  Emile felt the flies of fatigue now in her mind, many, many of them.  They wanted her to disagree with the jewelry. They buzzed in her mind and said that no, no more lightning could come.  She mentally batted them away, and launched still more crackling bolts at the ship with its now burning black flags. The masts were cracking on both ships, and Emile looked around panting.  Sailors and pirates, burned and paralyzed littered the deck of the ship. The tall mast fell, painfully slowly, and she raised her left hand and thought that it needed to stop. It was going to hit her.  The ring on her left hand made a good argument, and the mast was slowed somewhat, but it was still going to fall. The flames licked around her, and Gypsum nuzzled her, nudging her towards the edge. I hope you can swim.  Emile and the dragon jumped off the side of the ship, and hit the icy water.

    As soon as she was under water, the mail coif she wore wrapped itself tight around her face.  A tiny stream of bubbles, sucked out of the water itself it seemed, filled her nostrils. It was a curious tickling feeling, the air being pushed into her lungs through her nose.  She had no time to think about this though, Gypsum found her under the water, and Emile wrapped her right arm around the dragon¡¯s neck. Images, images of ships sinking and the after effect, the effect of the water and everything around it being sucked under with the ships.  NO!  We¡¯re not going down like that, Gypsum!

    Emile could barely see under the water, she kicked with her legs, and tried to get her bearings.  The two ships were collapsing, she could see fiery debris all around above her in the water. How long can you hold your breath?  Emile dove deeper, and brought the little dragon with her.  They swam as hard as they could. Air tickling her nose and filling her lungs strangely.  I have to get away from the ships.

    In the darkness it was hard to gauge anything, but Emile swam and swam.  She didn¡¯t know how deep she was. Gypsum seemed to be content under the water, and so they swam.  Emile decided that they should try and surface. She let go of the dragon momentarily to get her bearings, and she realized she didn¡¯t even know which way was up.  The bubbles!  In the darkness, in the stillness, she could feel the bubbles when she breathed out, she could feel them and followed them up.  Soon she saw the light of the sun, and soon she broke the surface. Where there had once been two ships there was now only chaos.  Detritus, the remains of the ships like skeletons floating in the tossing waves.

    Emile panicked for a moment waiting for Gypsum to break the surface, when the dragon did she hugged her.  She thought of love and warmth, of all her affections. How are we going to get to Two Lanes now?  Gypsum¡¯s response was images of flapping wings, images of birds in the sky.  Can you fly?  No? Well, the amulet might be able to get us out of the water at least.

    In the stillness, floating in the sea water, Emile was suddenly much more aware of the buzzing in her mind.  She thought of the necklace round her neck, and the necklace agreed that she could levitate. Emile focused on believing this, on thinking about it the way the amulet did, and she wrapped both her arms around Gypsum.  Slowly, painfully slowly the two were lifted out of the water. Once they were just above the water, Gypsum flapped her thin wings mightily, and helped with every bit of strength she could muster. The speed was like glaciers, like mountains rising.  Emile¡¯s focus waned, but she kept it up, she¡¯d never felt so tired in her life, but she knew that if she stopped focusing she would sink back to the water like a stone.

    Just above the water they floated, Gypsum tugging them through the air with the mighty wingbeats.  I just want rest.  Emile¡¯s mind drifted and the girl and the dragon began sinking again.  It was like a whipcrack in her mind, images of sea creatures snapping at legs, of sharp teeth and snake like bodies coiling around her, images of swarms of tiny fish picking bodies clean, their silvery scales glistening.  She raised her head and looked at the dragon, somewhat hurt. You¡¯re right, it¡¯s just until we get to the coast.

 Suss 2 (Interlude)

    Suss could remember the end of the story.

    Ma¡¯ii was found.

    Six hundred generations ago, in the desert, a group of refugees were dying.  Before they slept every night and as soon as they rose, they cursed their own names.  They had chose to flee lands that they no longer recognized. Had they stayed, they could have died slowly and painfully, but it would have been an easier death than the agony they brought upon themselves now.  Choosing to live meant choosing to work. Though willing, not one of them knew what needed to be done. Horror and pain wrapped around their throats, robbed them of speech and scorched their skin. Everyday, they watched their children wither, and perish.  Every night, elders would disappear, taking nothing and leaving only fleeting grief.

    The refugees could not escape from the land itself, land that had turned putrid and hateful.  Everywhere they had been, the land was dying. Not one amongst them would dare cast a single spell, for no one could be sure anymore, of what would happen.  Magic had turned on them. Scholars in the cities said that magic had caused all of the calamities. The last messages received on the neuronet, before it went down, were warnings.  Stop all use of magic. Flee the population centers. Seek shelter. The end is now.

    Months they had been traveling, through lands wrought with war.  Violence was a thing of such distant memory, that when they first saw it, they did not recognize it for what it was.  Other refugees had come upon them and taken their supplies. Others still had taken some of the women, and still more had beaten the weak in plain sight laughing without joy.

    Youngest of the children who wandered in the desert was a girl called Sahar, and she fled from eradication into obliteration on her mother¡¯s back.  Sahar¡¯s head was wrapped in dark fabric and pressed against her mother¡¯s shoulder. Slow, gentle rocking lulled her in and out of sleep. When she saw the naked woman laughing merrily, she thought it impossible.  No joy was left in this dying world. Sahar lifted her head from her mother¡¯s shoulder and looked much more carefully at the woman they were passing.

    The woman was a coyote and a woman.  She was neither a woman nor a coyote.  Sahar accepted this easily, as children do.  Since they¡¯d crossed into the desert, each night they had seen coyotes.  The adults would run for their bows. Never had they actually hit one, for not even one of the refugees knew the proper use of the bow.  Few amongst them had the strength to pull the string back, and the bows were not being maintained properly. None of the adults moved for their bows or even seemed to see the woman.

    Sahar called out her mother¡¯s name.  Her mother made soothing noises. Again she offered the same empty promise to Sahar that they were close to their destination.  The group was passing the woman who was a coyote, and no one seemed to see her. Sahar tried again. She pled with her mother to stop.  Such noise she made, the others in the group uttered harsh reprieve. Sahar¡¯s mother craned her neck to look at her daughter. Reprimands and promises of punishment were not enough to stop her though, and Sahar continued to scream.  Stop. Look. There. There is a woman who will help us! There is a woman who needs our help. Finally her mother stopped. The straps were undone and Sahar was released unto the ground. Punishment that had been foretold was not to be had though.  Sahar¡¯s legs were rested and her mother was tired. So tired.

    Faster than the arrows lobbed from the ramshackle bows, Sahar ran.  Before the woman, she stood fearful.

    Words were spoken.

    I am Ma¡¯ii.

    I am Sahar.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Your people have forgotten me.  Learned to speak and forgot to listen.

    I am sorry.  I did not mean to forget.

    I will forgive you.  I will help you.

    We are lost.  We are afraid.  We have no home, no food.  We have no hope.

    I will teach you to build homes.  To grow food. To survive in this land.  I will teach you hope. For a price, for a promise.

    What is the price?

    And now the others were upon them.  And now the others could see, could hear the price.

    Forget me never again.  Carry me in your hearts, carry me always with you.  Love me, worship me. And I will teach you.

    Ma¡¯ii was found.

    Suss could remember the end of the story.

    She was amazed at all the things she could remember.  Her mind felt sharp in the darkness.  The darkness was complete here.  She could feel the wall at her back, and the door before her just by leaning forward.  It was impossible to sit down, but strangely she had no desire to sit, or to rest. There was no way to measure how much time had passed other than to recite the stories aloud.  So she had been reciting them all.

    When she had first become aware in here, she could not remember anything of how she came to be here.  It came back to her very slowly, but there were still many things her mind reeled from. The children crying out.  The oozing green fog that crept through the hall towards her. The tiny bodies on the floor unmoving, the light that was being drained from them.  It was much easier to remember her childhood, to focus on the details of each of Ma¡¯iis stories, and for the first time, she could remember how each and every story ended.

    Vaguely she recalled that she should feel fear.  Some part of her reeled at the wrongness of this, of imprisonment in this tiny cell, but the fear was distant.  All of her feelings were cold and direct now. Her mind was tranquil and sharp. Her mind was the sky in the dark nights when Ma¡¯ii¡¯s eye was turned away, and each of her thoughts shined as bright as the stars.

    They had opened the door to her tiny cell once.  Barked orders at her in a language she didn¡¯t understand.  She had walked out of the cell, expecting the light to be blinding.  It was not. She stood in her pool of strange calmness, in a dimly lit room filled with dozens of people who were not people.  They glistened in the twinkling light, faces made of shiny copper, with lights like torches where their eyes should have been. Below their ¡®eyes¡¯ was nothing but a hole covered with silver lattice.  They were naked, but they had nothing to cover. Their bodies were smooth.

    In the dim light she looked around, confused.  Then she saw that her hands were the same shiny copper, the same smooth textureless metallic material.  She knew that she was now a person who was not a person. She tried to touch her face, and realized she had no nose.  Certainty that she should be horrified tried to assert itself, but the dominant part of her mind said that this was just the way things were, and she accepted it.  Ma¡¯ii was not forgotten, that was the important thing. The promise was not broken.

    She tried to talk, and the voice that she heard was a metallic echo, ¡°Please, whoever you are, I will do anything you ask, just please don¡¯t hurt the children.¡±

    ¡°Suss!¡±  The voice that called out to her was distant and it was the same as her own.  It was a metallic sound like rain falling on a copper pot, and it revolted the tiny part of her that kept insisting she should feel a certain way.

    A sound like a bell being struck inside her head jarred her from her thoughts.  The man who was not a man looked up and down the row and raised his hands for silence, one holding a strange looking rod.  His face was similar to all the others, but it lacked the perfect untouched smoothness. Dents and corrosion marred the surface, and rather than being naked and smooth his body looked as if it had been bound to piecemeal armor. He hung the rod he carried from a loop at his waist.  Suss saw on his back the satchel that she remembered seeing the pieces of black glass stored in. He was talking to the woman with the obsidian skin, and Suss realized that his voice was the same as her own. She said something to him, quick and rough, and then stormed off without looking back.

    After that it was a matter of being told again and again to do things that she did not understand.  Finally the man had started pantomiming his expectations, and Suss was able to perform to his satisfaction.  Raise one hand, put it down. Raise the other. Make a circle in the air. Spread the spindly appendages that had replaced her fingers.  She asked again and again about the children during this, but he either did not understand or did not care. If anyone else in the room tried to speak to her or to each other, he struck the ground with the rod her carried and the sound it made was deafening.  It blocked all thought until its echo faded. He walked up and down the row and painstakingly made each one of the people who were not people go through the same routine she had.

    Then he began returning them to their tiny cells.  Suss was not upset. It was dawning on her that she could not become upset, and there was a splendid peace in that realization.  It was impossible for her to say if she was dead. She felt nothing but peace, but this existence could not be called life, and it certainly did not seem to be the paradise that she had been promised.  The memories of Ma¡¯ii were the only thing left in her that seemed to burn with any heat.

    <hr>

 Wendel 1

    The University was an amalgamation of of ideas, principles, and of eccentric architecture.  It had been built on the remnants of an old school just after the war was over. Some of the buildings made in the fashion of the city that surrounded it, high wooden stilts and low sloping roofs, but most of them Spelled from elements in the ground, the air or even the sea in the same fashion that the Towers had risen.

    There was almost no planning that went into it.  Each of the founders had their own idea about how things would look and function in their department.  The Regulators had built squat fortress-like buildings, weaving fibers of carbon from the air into the shimmering walls now covered in sediment from the sea.  The alchemy department was a spotless array of labs that had been built by hired workers using manufactured materials woven from sand and oil. Wendel had been forced to learn all of this when he was wearing a red robe.

    He stood outside the worst building on the campus, the Room of Shame.  It was not officially called that, it was actually called the Hall of Futures.  Milling around the entrance were students wearing seven different shades for the seven different years.  Red robed first year students would weave their way through the crowd and then reemerge quickly from the room either grinning or skulking.  Second and third years, in their orange and yellow robes would usually arrive in groups, but they never lingered long. The first three years were very forgiving.

    Today was the final day that the scores would be posted before the room was sealed for the break, and it was a sea of violet that stood around the entrance.  Wendel watched from the outside as a girl in a violet robe with two black sashes pushed her way through the crowd and into the hall, only to reemerge with tears streaming down her face.

    ¡°Shame about her, I think she has a problem with reading,¡± it was his sister Fiona¡¯s voice and it startled Wendel so much he jumped back and almost tripped on the hem of his robe.  ¡°Worried you¡¯re going to have to wear a black sash?¡±

    Wendel cast his eyes down to the paving stones.  ¡°Do you think father would pay my tuition for another year?¡±

    Fiona put her hand on his shoulder, ¡°First repeated year is double,¡± she said, ¡°do you think he¡¯s going to have to?¡±

    Wendel didn¡¯t want to think about begging.  ¡°What are you doing here?¡± He asked.

    ¡°I talked to Dean Stinson, he told me about your application and what you intend to do if you get your gold card tomorrow.¡±  She answered.

    Wendel turned to her and took in her inkstained sleeves and her brown hair that always stood straight up.  Fiona was a foot shorter than he was, which put the tips of her hair right at eye level. Small as she was Wendel had always been terrified of her, the child prodigy that got her gold card when she was seventeen and her doctorate at twenty.  He wanted to hate her, he had always wanted to hate her. He couldn¡¯t though, he admired her too much for that and even worse, she had always defended him.

    ¡°Come on,¡± she said, leading him by the shoulder towards the entrance.  Fiona was a department director, and the students parted for her like blades of grass in the breeze.  Outside, the Hall of Futures had four walls, and seemed to be roughly the size of an outhouse. Inside there were seven walls and it was massive.  Large enough to hold a hundred students, which was why it was always so hard to get through the entrance.

    Red, orange, yellow.  Green, blue, indigo. Fiona made a slow circuit of the room passing each wall in turn.  Hung dead center on each wall was a massive sheet of glass with a piece of parchment pressed behind it.  Violet. The students had formed a sort of semi-circle around them when she reached the seventh wall. Wendel could see mouths moving, but he couldn¡¯t hear anything over the sound of his own heart in his ears.

    Fiona extended her hand to the glass on the wall, and touched her finger to it.  The parchment behind the glass began to slowly rise and she slid her finger up, and Wendel took a step to get close enough to read the names.  To the left of each name was a number, starting with the valedictorian and edging down. Further and further until at the very bottom of the glass he saw a thick black line with more names below it.  The names of failures. Pressure was building behind his eyes and the edges of his vision were getting blurry as the black line slid higher and higher and still she didn¡¯t stop. He could no long read the names, all he could see was the black line of failure racing towards him.  Until it finally stopped, on her finger.

    ¡°Wendel,¡± her voice was faint and distant, ¡°Wendel!¡±

    He tried to speak, but his saliva tasted of metal and his tongue seemed to be plastered to the roof of his mouth.  It seemed his eyes had clenched shut of their own accord. He wanted to run, to flee from this pain.

    ¡°Wendel!  Congratulations!¡±  Fiona exclaimed.

    Wendel forced his eyes to open.  All he could see on the parchment was the black line, but she pulled her finger back, he noticed his name.  It was on the line, but it was above it. Last of my class.

    ¡°For what,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°Wendel, what do you call a mage who graduates last in his class?¡±  Fiona asked, and he felt her pull him in for a hug.

    ¡°A failure.¡±  He said into her tickly hair.  Tears were welling in his eyes.

    ¡°No.  You call him a mage.  Congratulations, little brother, you did it.¡±  She released him from her embrace, ¡°I have some things I need to attend to, but don¡¯t think I¡¯ve forgotten about what you applied for, I will find you tomorrow after the ceremony.¡±  Fiona turned to leave, but before she could a student Wendel had been friendly with in his first year approached.

    ¡°Professor Regan!¡±  Wendel knew that Jaque was the same age he was, but he was much taller, and thinner.  He had square shoulders and a square jaw, with brown hair that seemed much nicer than Wendel¡¯s red-blonde hair.

    ¡°Yes?¡±  Fiona was half a head shorter than Jaque, but her hair towered above him.

    ¡°I was just coming over here to,¡± Jaque paused and seemed to notice Wendel for the the first time, ¡°Invite my good friend Wendel here out for a celebratory drink.¡±

    ¡°So invite him.  I have work to do.¡±  Fiona started to take another step, but Jaque moved in front of her.  With all of his bulk, it seemed accidental, but Wendel wasn¡¯t sure.

    Jaque said, ¡°Wendel, isn¡¯t Professor Regan your sister?¡±

    Wendel sighed, he really hated it in the Hall of Futures, everyone was trying to push past the three of them now that they were standing with their backs to the posted scores.  ¡°Well, half sister, what were you saying about going out tonight? Will Marin be there?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±  Jaque seemed confused for a moment.  ¡°Course Marin will be there, she¡¯s my girl.  In fact, Professor Regan, she and I both applied to apprentice under you.¡±

    ¡°I really must be going,¡±  She turned to Wendel and patted his shoulder, ¡°Try and have some fun tonight, you¡¯ve earned it.¡±

    <hr>

    Wendel had never been to this pub before, and if Jaque hadn¡¯t said that Marin was going, he¡¯d have never accepted.  The kinds of places he frequented served food. They pushed their way in through the crowded entrance and Wendel looked around.  There was no food to be seen. There were lots of drinks, though. Of the five people he was with, he only knew two of their names.

    ¡°Gloria!  My usual table, darling.¡±  The gorgeous black man, with shoulders twice as wide as Wendel¡¯s shouted at the blushing hostess.  Wendel thought he may have had a class with him at some point, but more than anything he knew he was the valedictorian and their apparent host for the evening.

    ¡°The place is pretty full tonight, Rickard, what with graduation and all.  Do you think you could all squeeze into a booth? Otherwise, I don¡¯t know when you¡¯d get a table.¡±

    Rickard grabbed two of the girls and said, ¡°Of course we can!¡±  The hostess, Gloria, led the group to their booth. Wendel followed behind Marin, stiff with discomfort.

    Wendel looked down at his violet robes and wondered that most of the other students managed to fill them out. His hung on him like curtains on a window. He was pleased to see Marin shrug off Jaque¡¯s arm when he tried to place it on her shoulder.

    When they all reached the table, Wendel slid in immediately, against the wall.  No one else seemed much interested in sitting. Rickard seemed like he had to greet the whole bar.  Wendel was looking dejected, at the table in front of him wishing for a menu to hide behind. He knew only Jaque, and didn¡¯t know him very well.  They¡¯d been friends, once, wearing the red robes of first year students, but Jaque had made new friends and left Wendel behind.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    The table flashed purple and deafening cheer rose.  He looked up, startled, in time to see the sparkling trails of a violet seven etched in magic. The glimmers shone all colors of the rainbow as they fell, and Wendel wanted nothing more than to leave.  He stood up, but Jaque was sliding into the booth with Marie after him.

    Rickard shouted, ¡°Enough! I couldn¡¯t possibly Spell again without a round of drinks for my friends!¡± This was met with uproarious laughter, and Rickard took a bow. The brunette girlfriend pulled Rickard into the booth behind her, and the redheaded girlfriend snuggled up after him.

    A tall willowy woman approached the table with a tray held easily over the throng of people. She lowered it to show that it had six shallow, long stemmed glasses with brilliant purple liquid, and six small colorful glasses. As she started setting them out, Wendel asked in confusion, ¡°I haven¡¯t ordered anything, I haven¡¯t even seen a menu...¡±

    ¡°Who brought this guy? You¡¯re too much!¡± Rickard laughed.

    Jaque yelled over the roar, ¡°This is Professor Regan¡¯s brother! Remember?¡±

    The waitress said, ¡°These are crucibles and dropouts! From those girls there.¡± She gestured over towards a table full of indigo robes and long, styled hair. ¡°Here, let me light them for you.¡± The woman took out a copper pen and reached over the table to the drinks. Her blouse fell open and Wendel found himself staring straight at her chest. She touched each tiny glasses and it burst into flame. When she lit his, she gave him a wink, and he saw his purple drink in it¡¯s long stemmed glass, transform to brilliant gold.  Tomorrow they¡¯ll give me a gold card, and I¡¯ll be a mage, Wendel thought.

    Everyone raised both glasses, and Wendel hurriedly raised his. ¡°Here¡¯s to Regan and her bottlebrush hair!¡± Rickard said. They touched the flaming glasses, and Rickard threw the fiery drink down his throat. Wendel looked at the small glass brimming with fire, and raised it to his lips. His nose brushed the flame and he smelled singed hair. He looked around, panicked, and saw the girls blow out their drinks. He blew on his, and drank the uncomfortably viscous and warm liquid. Each color slid over his tongue in a different flavor.

    Everyone had sat their small glasses upside down on the table, and held only the golden cocktails.  Wendel followed suit. He sipped at his ¡®dropout¡¯ or maybe his ¡®crucible,¡¯ he wasn¡¯t sure which was which.  He hoped it would wash seven years of school out of his mouth. ¡°This is quite good! What do you think¡¯s in it?¡± he said, to no one in particular.

    ¡°Success!¡± Rickard roared, drinking it like water.

    Wendel took another sip and mumbled, ¡°I think it tastes like honey, actually.¡± The brown-haired girl across from him must have heard him, because she giggled and touched his foot with hers.  Did she just kick me?  Wendel worried, and hurriedly pulled both his legs against the bench.

    Wendel¡¯s ears pricked when he heard Marin¡¯s voice say, ¡°Liza, have you given any thought to what you might do now?¡±

    The redhead said, ¡°I have signed up to apprentice under Madam Druce.¡±

    Rickard scoffed, ¡°Do you think that¡¯s wise? She¡¯ll probably be dead before you get your doctorate.¡±

    Liza looked startled and Marin said, ¡°That¡¯s not a very nice thing to say, I quite like Madam Druce.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying I don¡¯t like the old girl, I¡¯m just saying that she¡¯s got one foot in the grave!¡± Rickard said.

    Jaque turned towards Wendel.  ¡°Speaking of apprenticeships...¡± He nearly put his mouth on Wendel¡¯s ear.

    Jaque was interrupted by the waitress with another tray. ¡°We¡¯ve got frogbottoms now! These are courtesy of those young ladies there.¡± She waved to a table of green robes, squealing with laughter. The drink placed in front of him was clear blue, in a test tube propped in it¡¯s own wooden holder. A tiny emerald frog floated in the bottom of the tube.

    The girl that had kicked Wendel, touched him playfully on the arm and said, ¡°I haven¡¯t had one of these since I was in green robes myself. I still believed what they say.¡±

    Wendel cocked his head, ¡°And what do they say?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you know. Frog bottoms make bare bottoms.¡± She punctuated that by squeezing his hand.

    Liza picked up her test tube and said, ¡°That¡¯s nonsense, Riney, it never took a frog to get you to bare your bottom.¡±

    Rickard raised his test tube and yelled, ¡°To bare bottoms!¡± loud enough for a nearby table to let out a whoop. He threw it back, not even chewing the frog. He stood, with the empty tube raised above his head. Shining smoke erupted and coalesced into a girl with green robes. She looked around and started to raise her robes above her knees and bend over. At that point it exploded into white sparks.

    The cheers reverberated off the walls, nearly drowned out by shrieking laughter from the girls in green. Wendel drank his quickly and noticed that the frog did not come out with the drink. He shook it, and then tapped it upside down on his hand forlornly.

    Marin proclaimed, ¡°I think that¡¯s great that you¡¯re going to study alchemy. You were always very good at it. What about you, Riney?¡±

    ¡°I put in an application to work on a ship, as a windcaller.¡± The brunette girl sounded wistful.

    ¡°Really? You¡¯re not going to do an apprenticeship?¡± asked Marin.

    ¡°I just want to get out of here, you know? I have three years to make up my mind about that.¡± said Riney.

    Liza exclaimed, ¡°Three years to be on a ship with a hundred strong young men, sounds like to me!¡±

    Rickard yelled, ¡°To strong young men!¡± He raised his empty test tube, and scowled at it. ¡°Why don¡¯t we have more drinks yet?¡±

    Jaque put his mouth near Wendel¡¯s ear again, and said, ¡°Speaking of apprenticeships, I was hoping you could put in a good word for me with your sister.¡±

    Marin sighed and said, ¡°Jaque thinks he¡¯s going to get one of the three spots under Professor Regan. He didn¡¯t even put in any other applications.¡±

    Liza sounded put out, ¡°I didn¡¯t put in any other applications either.¡±

    Marin replied, ¡°I know, but Madam Druce will take anyone. No offence.¡±

    Liza laughed and said, ¡°None taken. She thinks that alchemy is the only thing at the school worth studying and encourages anyone to study it.¡±

    The waitress showed up with an empty tray and said, ¡°There is a man at the bar who claims to be a professor. Says his name is Veles. He said he will buy a round of drinks for you. Whatever you¡¯d like.¡±

    Rickard said, ¡°Whatever we¡¯d like, he says. I¡¯d like six Fabulous Flernums, how about that?¡±

    The waitress continued, ¡°He said anything, as long as you cast the spell that got you kicked out that one night.¡±

    The surrounding tables went quiet. ¡°Alright,¡± Rickard said, ¡°But for that I want the whole bottle.¡±

    The waitress left, with her tray covered in empty glasses. Wendel watched his tiny frog walk away sadly. He had been thinking about what Jaque said, and not paying much attention to Rickard and the waitress. He turned to Jaque and said, ¡°I don¡¯t know what good it would do, and I don¡¯t even know what I would say.¡±

    Jaque gesticulated grandly and said, ¡°Tell her that I¡¯m spectacular! How I was better than you in every class!¡±

    Wendel said sadly, ¡°Everyone was better than me in every class.¡±

    Riney said, ¡°Don¡¯t say that! I¡¯m sure you are better than you think. What are you going to be doing, anyway? We¡¯ve all told you.¡±

    ¡°Not everyone has. Rickard hasn''t! Neither has Marin.¡± said Wendel.

    Liza looked up from Rickard¡¯s chest, ¡°Everyone knows what Rickard is doing!¡± She wrapped her arms around him.

    Rickard did not seem interested, he was watching to see if the waitress was going to bring a whole bottle of Flernum to the table. Marin also said nothing, and now Wendel was curious, ¡°What about you, Marin,¡± he asked timidly.

    Marin put both of her hands on the table, ¡°I applied for an apprenticeship, under professor Regan,¡± she sighed and continued, ¡°but I also applied for other things, because there are only three slots!¡±

    Jaque threw his hands in the air and practically shouted, ¡°You graduated third in our whole class, of course you¡¯re going to get accepted!¡±

    The waitress was standing at the end of the table again, Wendel didn¡¯t know how long she had been there. He felt like he had said something wrong, but she was holding a tray with a tall black bottle and six glasses, ¡°Veles, if that¡¯s even his real name, said you¡¯re on. He put his money down, but he said if it doesn¡¯t live up to the legend, you¡¯re paying for it.¡±

    Rickard flashed a devilish smile, ¡°Won¡¯t be a problem.¡±

    The waitress smiled back, ¡°I know it won¡¯t, and just so you know, I didn¡¯t tell Tone about this little arrangement, but if Veles wants his money back, he¡¯s getting it from you.¡±  She placed a glass in front of everyone and then took the bottle from the tray and placed it in the center of the table. ¡°Need me to open it?¡±

    Rickard¡¯s smile widened, ¡°Course not.¡±

    Wendel stared at the black bottle in the center of the table.  It didn¡¯t seem to have a cork. What it looked like was a shadow.  The light seemed to avoid it. ¡°How do you open it?¡± He heard Liza ask.

    Rickard reached for the bottle, and seemed to pull some of the bottle from the top.  It drifted off like dust. ¡°Just have to know where to put your fingers.¡± She pushed his shoulder and laughed.  Rickard poured a little bit into everyone¡¯s glass, and as he did so the bottle itself seemed to be getting smaller.

    Marin ignored her glass, and practically crawled over Jaque to look at Wendel, ¡°Everyone has told you what they¡¯re going to be doing after graduation, so it¡¯s your turn.¡±

    Wendel felt a happy warmth in his stomach, this was the best night he¡¯d ever had in the school.  He blurted it out all at once, ¡°I applied for an apprenticeship, under Doctor Mendez.¡±

    Immediately he realized how foolish it was.  Everyone turned to look at him at once, and it seemed like the conversation at the two closest tables stopped.  Rickard even seemed taken aback, ¡°Are you joking,¡± he asked, ¡°It¡¯s hard to tell with you.¡±

    Wendel wanted to take it back, to laugh and to say that it was just a joke.  Instead he said, ¡°No, I asked the dean to mail her a letter and I filled out the formal application.¡±

    ¡°Listen to this!¡±  It sounded like Rickard had altered his voice to make it louder, or maybe the pub had just gotten quiet at that moment, but everyone turned their eyes at once to look, ¡°This guy applied to apprentice under the Good King¡¯s Sword!¡±

    There was a murmur that swept through the crowd.  Riney put a hand on Rickard¡¯s arm, ¡°That¡¯s enough, if he wants to try and apprentice under her, that¡¯s his business.¡±

    ¡°What?  Let¡¯s raise our glasses,¡± Rickard grabbed his glass of Flernum and everyone else did so slowly.  Riney was the last to pick hers up before Wendel finally grabbed his. ¡°Here¡¯s to Professor Regan¡¯s brother, and the three months he has left to live.¡±  He pushed his glass forward and tapped it on everyone else¡¯s in turn.

 Demetrius 1

    Demetrius was cleaning the inside of the toilet bowl. He may have been doing this for a few minutes, or a few hours. He often lost track of himself while he was cleaning, and no one else was keeping track of him either. All he knew for sure was that once he finished this one, and the rest of the toilets on this floor, it would be time for lunch.

    He laid his pumice stone down, and with the back of his forearm wiped the sweat from his brow. His black hair stood up in an embarrassing cowlick from his forehead, and every time he passed a mirror, he would hurriedly try to comb it back down. It never looked proper, but he had never given it much thought. No one looked at him much anyway. He was awkward and gangly, having grown almost a foot in the past two years. He rarely left the gloomy hallways and dark bathrooms in the University during the day, and his sallow skin reflected his habits. His owlish eyes and uncomfortable nature had made sure he never received any compliments on his appearance. That matter was helped by the fact that he rarely spoke to anyone at all.

    With the air of a true professional he examined his work, and decided that it was satisfactory. Or at least good enough for the University. The plumbing had been installed many years ago, and was burnished by daily cleaning but forever bore the residue of frequent use. Add to that the sometimes magical components in the diet of some of the students and faculty, and the facility was a map of stains. It had not been refinished in all the years Demetrius had been cleaning at the University. He assumed, accurately, that it had not been refinished since it was originally installed.

    Demetrius had been with the University since he was very young. He enjoyed the privacy of his job, and took a strange sort of pride in his anonymity. He knew that many of the students his age that walked the halls did so with minds full of worry and fear. Fear of failing this exam, worry about what a girl or a boy may or may not have said about them. Demetrius could not wrap his mind around these things. In the years before he¡¯d come to land upon the doorstep of the University his mind had been filled with actual fear and worry. Fear for his life. Worry about where his next meal was coming from. For the past ten years of his life, the University had fed, clothed and sheltered him and he was endlessly grateful.

    He gathered the tools of his trade, and left the stall, preparing to move onto cleaning the next one. His thoughts often wandered as he cleaned. His eyes and his hands were connected bypassing his mind and granting it license to drift as it would amongst a sea of memories and daydreams. He was scanning the familiar map of stains he saw everyday for one that was out of place when he noticed faint flashes of light reflecting off of the surfaces. A vague anxiety made from the fear of having to speak to an interloper began to surface in the sea of thoughts. Surreptitiously he glanced around the room, searching for the person that would interrupt his daily routine and thereby ruin his morning.

    There was no one however. The room was exactly as it should be. Empty. Everyone was in class at this time of day. Relief began to blossom in his heart, and immediately disappeared when he noticed that the flashing had not stopped. Worse than that, he had discovered the source of the flashing. It was from the center wash basin on the wall, and in his experience flashing lights did not come from sinks. That meant that perhaps there was some sort of magic. A device, or the remnants of a spell that someone had tried to dispose of hastily in the bathroom. It definitely would not be the first time for that, Demetrius had seen lots of strange things in his years at the University. In his opinion, the worst thing about discovering a strange thing meant that he would have to have a conversation with someone.

    Cautiously he crossed the room. He peered over the edge of the sink. He screamed. It was not the quick intake of breath something startling happened kind of scream. It was a long drawn out, high pitched, really putting his heart into it scream. He stumbled backwards, and almost fell on the floor before he righted himself. He felt his body flood with adrenaline, and the taste of copper filled his mouth. Breathe, he told himself realizing that he was holding his breath. Slowly he began to let his muscles relax.

    What Demetrius had seen when he looked into the sink was a miniscule woman taking a bath in the pit of one half of an avocado. The fact that Demetrius had never before seen an avocado was not why he had screamed. Nor was it the fact that he had never seen a naked woman before. Fortunately for both parties she was mostly submerged under the water, with only her hands and her head showing. He committed this image to memory to make sure that when he looked again and it was not what he had seen before, he could be sure.

    Summoning some secret reserve of courage that he had been previously unaware, he approached the sink. Before he could look over the edge again, he heard the tiniest voice speak. ¡°Turn around silly, I have to get dressed!¡±

    Obediently he turned around and faced the wall. He realized that he was taking orders from what was either some sort of conjured illusion or a demon. He scowled at the wall, and noticed that there was a spot on it that he would need to clean. He made a mental note of it.

    ¡°Ok, you can look now! Help me pick out something cute to wear!¡± The tiny voice spoke from the sink again, and Demetrius turned around and peered over the edge. It was obviously either a faculty member''s work or that of one of the grad students. He¡¯d never seen a corporeal illusion that had its own autonomy.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    There was no longer an avocado, in its place there was a bureau that was about as tall as his thumb. He dumbly reached his hand out to touch the woman, thought better of it, and poked the bureau. Knocking it over in the process.

    ¡°O. M. G. Are you cereal right now!?¡± The tiny woman shouted, and took flight from the sink. She hovered directly in front of his face. ¡°Stand it back up! Right this instant!¡±

    It was now that she was hovering so close to his face that Demetrius was able to fully take in the details. He took in a great many details now, not the least of which was that the woman had no proper clothes on. She was brown as a nut, bordering on orange. Her hair was silky and loose and the color of a buttercup. She looked to him like a wooden doll with its dress off, with tiny bits of lace at her waist and chest. She was also holding an almost-invisible rectangle emphatically up to her mouth. If it was food, she did not make any move to bite it. ¡°I thought you were getting dressed?¡± The words forced themselves from his mouth seemingly of their own volition.

    ¡°I am dressed, silly. Dressed enough for you. Anyway I wear less than this in half the pics of me on Instagram. That¡¯s how you get followers.¡± He couldn¡¯t be sure, but he thought that she winked as she said this. ¡°Now, fix my dresser, you knocked it over.¡±

    Reflexively he picked up the tiny bureau was that far too small to be used in any dollhouse he had ever seen. Very carefully he attempted to set it on the counter space next to the sink. It was an unfortunately curved surface, and the bureau tumbled into the sink spilling all of its contents on the way.

    ¡°You know Demetrius the very things that I find so cute about you are also kind of annoying. But still cute! Just put it back up.¡± She flew close enough to his face that he felt what could have been her lips on his cheek, before diving into the sink and grabbing one of the garments.

    When she flew back to his face holding the apparel up to her chest for him to see, he asked ¡°What exactly do you know about me? How did you know my name, are you a demon? I think you have to tell me if you¡¯re a demon.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s like saying a cop would have to tell you he¡¯s a cop. Wouldn¡¯t be a very good cop if he did, now would he? I think I saw a meme about that once.¡± She was holding the piece of clothing up with one hand as she spoke, and he noticed for the first time that she was speaking into the tiny rectangle she held in her hand. ¡°For real though, don¡¯t you think this shirt is totally on fleek?¡± It was a pink he had only seen on flowers and barely bigger than what she was already wearing.

    ¡°So you are a demon? Are you speaking in tongues? Is this the Low Speak? I¡¯ve heard of that.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re too much! But yeah I think you''re right, that shirt¡¯s so last week.¡± With that she tossed the garment from her hand, and Demetrius¡¯ eyes tried to follow it down, but where it should have been there was nothing. As soon as he looked up again, she was directly in front of his face holding up something green. ¡°What about this one? Should I try it on for you?¡±

    The door opened and shut abruptly, and Demetrius reeled. He turned to see one of the Professors walking in haughtily, robes flowing on the floor, shaking his finger in the air and exclaiming ¡°You¡¯d better get to class young man!¡± and he cut himself off abruptly. ¡°Demetrius it¡¯s you. I thought I heard people talking in here. Are you alone?¡±

    Demetrius was dumbstruck. In all his years at the University the one thing he had learned to do well besides cleaning was go unnoticed. Now one of the Professors was looking at him expectantly. Worse still was the tiny flying woman giggling right next to his ear. ¡°Tell him that you were practicing speaking in the mirror!¡± Frantically he thought there¡¯s not even a mirror in here.

    Somehow though he began to speak against all his best interests. ¡°I was practicing, uhm, speaking, you know. To myself. For um¡­¡± He trailed off. ¡°Yes sir, I¡¯m alone in here.¡±

    ¡°Ahh, now I see! I understand, practicing lines for the young ladies, eh!?¡± The professor clapped Demetrius on the shoulder, making him flinch away. ¡°I was your age once, you know.¡± At this the professor wiggled his wild eyebrows knowingly. ¡°Well uh, you¡¯re doing a good job in here! Keep it up lad, but you know... I, erm, need to make use of these facilities. I have a bit of the stage fright myself, if you know what I mean, eh?¡±

    ¡°Yes sir! Good sir! Uhm, thank you sir!¡± Demetrius spoke hastily grabbing his buckets, and rags and his trusty pumice stone. All the while the tiny woman giggled ferociously in his ear.

    After what must have been an eternity or two, they were finally out of the bathroom and into the hall. ¡°Stage fright!¡± She blurted out between another hysterical fit of laughter. ¡°Need to make use of the facilities!¡± Demetrius turned his head and looked at the now fully-clothed woman.

    ¡°That was terrible of you. Just awful. You, you¡¯re just terrible. Uhm, what do I call you anyway?¡± Demetrius was now speaking in a very low whisper as he made his way through the halls. He was not going to keep working with this thing nattering nonsense in his ear. He was not in the right frame of mind to keep working. It¡¯s not like anyone would notice either way if he took just one day. She would not last very long without the wizard refreshing the spell anyway.

    ¡°Most people call me Cyndy. With two Y¡¯s. But on Instagram it¡¯s CynsoftheFlesh. With a C. And a Y. And no spaces, obviously. Same on Snap, it¡¯s too bad you can¡¯t add me. My Snaps are Fire!¡± Somehow Demetrius could hear the capital letter in the last word she said.

    ¡°Once again, I don¡¯t think I understood very many of those words, but I heard Cyndy, right? With two Y¡¯s?¡± He was speaking as he was making his way through the halls of the third floor of the University, heading with all the haste he could muster towards one of his favorite hiding places. It sounded like a demonic name, two Y¡¯s together. He turned abruptly down a stairwell into the servants¡¯ passages. When he looked, she was reclining easily on his shoulder poking that thing in front of her face.

    ¡°Yep. So where are you taking me? This is kind of like our first date, ya know.¡±

    <hr>

 Wendel 2

    Wendel wondered if she would leave his body where it fell.  Not really worth it, dragging my corpse along.  In the distance, the mountains and the sky ran together into a bitter white sheet.  Somewhere behind the clouds, an indifferent star lit everything with a blinding light, and up ahead he could barely make out Dr. Mendes and the pack dogs pulling the sledge.  There was relief in no longer feeling the cold. With a faltering step, Wendel fell. The borrowed snowshoes caught, and his knees and hands disappeared into the hateful white powder. It was silent and dark until he heard her shuffling steps and then her musical accent.

    ¡°I can¡¯t help you, Wendel.¡±

    ¡°I know.  No one can help me.¡±

    ¡°I think you can help yourself.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how!¡±

    ¡°Just sort of flop about, try and pack the snow around you down until it¡¯s firm and you can right yourself.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the point?¡±

    ¡°Well, if you stay where you are, you¡¯ll die.¡±

    ¡°So?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to fill out paperwork.¡±

    Wendel proceeded to flail about, pressing the snow down.  Once it was firm enough he was able to gain purchase on it.  The dogs pulling the sled with their supplies looked at him, their lolling tongues and open mouths mocked him as he pulled himself out of the hole.  Dr. Mendes offered him a hand, and he righted himself, shaking the snow off. He was buried beneath so many layers that none of the snow had made it to his skin, but still he felt wet.  Warm almost.

    From the sled, she retrieved two long walking sticks and pressed them into his hands.  ¡°If you slide, or fall again, these will help. The ground is buried, there¡¯s no way they¡¯ll reach the bottom so don¡¯t try try lean on them, but if you sink again, try and press down.  If you can reach the ground with the sticks, you should be able to keep yourself sinking in too deep. We¡¯re going uphill, kick little steps into the snow as we go, like this.¡± She demonstrated, lifting her foot, placing the toe into the snow and forming a small ridge.  Packed down, it made a stair for her, and she proceeded again with the other foot.

    Wendel tried to mimic her motions, and thought he was keeping up the grueling pace she set, but before long she was ahead of him again.  Dr. Mendes glistened in the sunlight. The snow surrounded them for miles, and even when Wendel closed his eyes, he could still see the snow reflecting the sun.

    Wendel no longer felt the cold, the weight of his pack on his back grew heavy every time he stopped to take another layer off.  She had not changed her clothes, all she wore was a khaki jacket embossed with the symbol for the science department of the University over a short-sleeved khaki shirt and her khaki overalls.  No hat on her shaved head, and neither a sign of chill or perspiration on her exotic face.

    ¡°Are you coming?¡±  She called back in a tone he knew she did not mean to be mocking.  He added the derision in his own mind.

    ¡°I¡­ I just need¡­¡±  Wendel was panting, there was no air up here, he felt choked and sick.  The world was swimming around him and he felt like he was keeling although he knew he was standing firm.  She jogged lightly back the twenty or so paces to where Wendel was.

    ¡°Drink this.¡±  She produced a waterskin, from his pack, without him so much as seeing her hands move.  Everything was a blur now, he wanted to sit down, in the cold hard packed snow. Gratefully he drank the water in deep gulps.

    ¡°Sip it or you¡¯re going to-¡±  She stopped as he doubled over and vomited the water he had just swallowed.  She stood there, staring at the sky with her beautiful black eyes, waiting for him to gather his wits and come back to himself.  When Wendel had finally stopped heaving, collected himself, and tried sipping at the waterskin again she spoke.

    ¡°Let me see your hands.¡±  Her accent was so interesting, he¡¯d heard her lecture twice back at the University, and both times he¡¯d missed almost everything she said caught up in the strange lilting of her voice.  Not understanding he produced his gloved hands for her to examine. Gently she removed his gloves and tucked them into his belt, and in spite of how much his whole body ached, and how terrified he was that he was going to die here, he felt a sharp thrill when her hands grazed his waist tucking the gloves between his belt and his pants.

    Wendel was so caught up in her touching him that he was completely unaware of the fact that he could not feel her touching his hands at all.  She squeezed them a little harder, and looked at his face gravely. Sharp realization dawned on him. He could not feel his hands at all. Fear gripped him tightly.  He tried to move his fingers, and they only twitched. Terrified he brought his hands up to his face and they burnt worse than any fire he¡¯d ever accidentally touched brewing in the labs at the University.  Failing to stifle a scream, he was cut off when Dr. Mend¨¦s¡¯ hand clapped over his mouth.

    ¡°You do realize we¡¯re here investigating an avalanche,¡± she saids softly, meaningfully, ¡°we¡¯re going to have to stop and build fire so you can gradually warm yourself.  If I move my hand, are you going to scream?¡±

    Wendel shook his head back and forth, and as she removed her hand, he uttered in a hoarse whisper, ¡°Can¡¯t we just use magic?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you idiot boy.  That would just burn you, or worse.  No, I never use magic.  Rarely is it is actually necessary.  Your body can take care of itself, if you let it.  Homeostasis, does that mean anything to you?  Nothing is better at knowing what your body needs better than itself.  I¡¯ve seen mages, even wizards try to keep themselves alive with magic. Many of them can¡¯t even walk now, or walk now in the shape of something that would terrify you.¡±  She was working quickly as she spoke, and Wendel stood dumbstruck watching her.

    ¡°Stomp your feet firmly and make a flattened hole in the snow.  Firmly and without making a lot of noise, you need to get your heart pumping anyway.¡±  Almost mechanically Wendel followed her instructions.

    Dr. Mend¨¦s took supplies off of one of the pack dogs they had borrowed from the village.  She removed a medium sized cast iron skillet, two tight bundles of what looked like hay rolled in something sticky, maybe fat.  From the pouches on her jacket, she removed a knife and a long metal rod. She shooed Wendel out of the way and laid the skillet in the hole, and put the hay in the skillet.  She struck the knife to the metal rod only once and a shower of sparks rained down on the hay. It caught, slowly, and then began to burn with an orange flame, flickering in the light breeze.

    ¡°Right, so I¡¯m going to build this fire up, and while I do so, I need you to swing your arms like this,¡± she demonstrated swinging both her arms around in wide circles, ¡°and I need you to do that between thirty and fifty times.  I know it seems silly, but remember who I am.¡±

    Wendel nodded mechanically again, and began to pinwheel his arms.  She removed a few small pieces of wood from the pack on one of the dogs, and built up the fire.  Wendel was counting to himself. When he reached fifty, he looked at her expectantly.

    ¡°I know that right now you see this fire and you want to crouch close to it, but you can¡¯t just yet.  You need to spin each leg fifty times like this,¡± she demonstrated, ¡°when that is done you can huddle to the fire.

    Once again, he followed her orders, and when he was finally done with both legs, he felt better.  Less dizzy and more present. He felt less like he was going to die. Dr. Mend¨¦s removed a kettle from one of the pack dogs, and poured water into it from Wendel¡¯s water skin.  She held it above the small fire by the wooden handle, and it began to warm. Steam rose from the kettle more quickly than Wendel would have expected, and then she retrieved a wooden cup from one of the dogs and filled it.

    ¡°Sip it,¡± he did so, slowly, ¡°so, Wendel, tell me why did you request to accompany me on this trip?  Or did the University decide that I needed a bit more of a challenge?¡±

    ¡°I was hoping that if I performed well you would consider me for an apprentice.¡± He blurted between sips.

    ¡°Are you aware of what happened to my last three apprentices?¡±  She spoke wistfully as if to herself.

    ¡°Yes, Dr. Mend¨¦s.¡±

    ¡°And are you aware that after the last one, I requested, on paper, that the University stop assigning me apprentices?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Dr. Mend¨¦s.¡±

    ¡°Then I will ask you again, why are you here?¡±

    ¡°Because I love¡­ the work that you do.  I just wanted to be a part of it.¡±

    ¡°Really? And could you describe the work that I do, and what aspect of it you find so fascinating.¡±

    Wendel could feel her eyes scrutinizing him.  He thought of his pale skin blotched with the scars from years of adolescent acne.  His ridiculous red hair, his slender frame that never filled in to match even his insubstantial height.  It was amazing how quickly his mind brought to the surface everything he hated about himself staring into her black on black eyes, her beautiful and strange skin, smooth and perfect, black as obsidian.  He was a fool, he didn¡¯t belong here, and yet here he was, and she was looking at him expectantly, demanding an explanation as to why she was being forced to save his life.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°You¡¯re a hero.¡±  His voice was hollow but it was all his mind could force from his lips.

    ¡°Heroine, and no, I am not, because heros and heroines are dead.  And foolish.¡±

    ¡°Everyone says you¡¯re a heroine, one of the living legends at the University, and-¡±

    She cut him off with two fingers to his lips, and then brought one vertical finger to her mouth, her eyes darted side to side.  He couldn¡¯t see anything at all but snow. Obviously she could.  All of a sudden they were surrounded, Wendel couldn¡¯t even count them. They were slender and incredibly tall, furry creatures. They looked somewhat ragged, and almost human except they were easily eight feet tall.

    Dr. Mend¨¦s stood up slow, and signalled with her hand flat for Wendel to remain seated, and do nothing.  At least, that¡¯s what he decided she was signalling because that was what he intended to do. She stared at each of the creatures in turn, catching their eyes, and then nodding to each.  Finally, the largest of the creatures took a step forward and uttered something in a guttural language. Wendel realized it had to be a language when Dr. Mend¨¦s replied in the same guttural tones.

    There was some sort of conversational exchange, and finally Dr. Mend¨¦s went to the pack dogs and retrieved some of their pemmican, some of their water, and a thin bladed filet knife.  She presented these things in a supplicating gesture to the leader of the creatures and then placed them on the hard packed snow at the creature¡¯s feet. Two of the other creatures retrieved the offering, and then the leader spoke again in that same strange language.  Dr. Mend¨¦s responded and bowed at the waist. The creature returned the gesture and as quickly as they had appeared the creatures were all gone.

    ¡°Right, where were we?  Heros?¡± She spoke as if nothing had happened.

    ¡°I- what?  What were those things?  I-¡± He stammering like a fool and he knew it.

    ¡°The snowmen?  They live here, it¡¯s as simple as that.¡±

    ¡°What just happened?¡±

    ¡°I paid for the right to cross their land.¡±  She shrugged.

    ¡°They were monsters!¡±

    ¡°No, they were just the locals, and had I responded differently, they would have killed us, this is their land after all.  How would you have handled that situation?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I think I probably would have been killed, by the locals.¡±

    She laughed and it was a beautiful sound, like some angelic instrument.  Her eyes lit up with the laugh and Wendel softly chuckled as well.

    ¡°Well at least you¡¯re smart enough to realize that.  How do you define me as a heroine?¡±

    ¡°You caught the Perim mages!¡±  He blurted it out all at once, and then clamped his mouth shut, suddenly aware of the avalanche risk.

    ¡°Simple detective work, they were sloppy.¡±

    ¡°You saved Fellim Narsye from the-¡±

    ¡°Yes, from the minotaurs, but honestly he slighted them and I just had to get him to make amends for the insult to their honor.  The minotaurs have a fascinating culture.¡±

    ¡°Everyone at the University talks about you as if you are a legend, your deeds are sung by bards far and wide.  You¡¯re The Good Kind''s Sword and in the war-¡± She cut him off again in mid-sentence.

    ¡°You¡¯re looking warmer, let me feel your hands again.¡±  She spoke and he was extending his arms before she¡¯d even finished.  She clasped both of his hands and he could feel hers this time. His heart was already pounding from fear and excitement and when he felt her hands, calloused and not at all like he was expecting, he could hear his pulse in his ears.

    ¡°Yes, I think that¡¯s better.  Put your gloves back on, and this time, try to match my pace.  Remember, if you¡¯re feeling cold you¡¯re not moving fast enough.  Alternate between swinging your arms loosely to keep the blood flowing and tucking them in your armpits.¡±  She gave the instructions while she was breaking down the fire she had made, and by the time she finished explaining what to do, there was almost no sign of the small fire.  She¡¯d even kicked snow in the flat hole and it was almost indistinguishable from the surrounding snow.

    Wendel was awestruck, he was doing his very best to keep pace.  She was amazing. He wanted desperately to ask her how they were going to meet the request of the villagers and find out if the avalanches were caused by magic.  There was very little about thaumatalogical forensics that he could remember right now. At this moment he felt like he was just following her to learn how to survive in this inhospitable environment so different from anywhere he¡¯d ever been before.

    ¡°Right, not much farther to go now.¡±  She stopped and surveyed the area and Wendel wasn¡¯t sure how she could know that, it all looked the same to him.  It looked like snow, on the slope of this awful rocky mountain they were destined to die on.

    Once again they started walking at the brisk pace she set, and time passed.  It could have been minutes or hours, Wendel couldn¡¯t tell. He was just trying to focus on swinging his arms and making sure he could still feel his fingers and toes.  The mountains rose and fell in front of them. Wendel couldn¡¯t decide if going up was worse than going down. The sun continued to move in the sky, and by the time they stopped to rest again he realized with a small shock it was almost down.

    Except that this time they weren¡¯t stopping to rest.  She was doing something in the snow on the slope that looked the same as the rest of the land.  His hands and feet were at least warm enough to feel, but he realized that it was getting colder.  He glanced over to her, and tried to ascertain what she was doing, but it was futile.

    All of a sudden he heard a whining, friction sound of rock sliding on rock, and a hole opened up in the slope.  To Wendel¡¯s surprise, there was light coming from inside the hole. Dr. Mendes looked at him and said, ¡°Well, come on.  If you want to see what I do, you should see this. Do not speak. Do not stare. Be respectful. Kneel when I kneel, and please don¡¯t do anything stupid, or you will die.¡±  She spoke in a very matter-of-fact way that terrified him much more than if she had said it in any sort of an intimidating way. While she was giving him this warning, she had been unhitching the two dogs from their sled.

    Where she had opened the slope, all of the snow that was resting on the door fell inside.  Dr. Mend¨¦s barreled through the waist deep snow, pulling the sled of supplies behind her as she did.  The two dogs bounded happily after her through the now loose snow. There was a strange blue light filtering through the snow and soon they were gone, past the entrance into this pile of snow.  Wendel had no choice but to follow or be left on this slope where the sun was setting. He did his best to follow her through the snow, trying to walk in the wake she and the dogs had carved.

    Warmth began to fill him, despite being waist deep in the snow he had been walking on top of only a moment ago. At first he could hear nothing, and see nothing except for the strange blue light through the snow, and then finally he broke through into a tunnel.  The first thing that caught his attention was the strange dripping sounds. Now he could also hear very faintly the wind back outside, whistling against the opening.  This sound was abruptly cut off and replaced by the whining, grinding friction sound of rock on rock.

    Wendel wanted desperately to call out to the doctor, but he remembered her warning about remaining silent.  He walked on, into the tunnel, lit with strange light, and not seeing the icy stalagmite. He tripped when he walked groin first into it.  He fell, over the stalagmite, crushing his groin in the process. Fortunately the pain was so extreme that he couldn¡¯t even scream. A harsh grunt escaped his lips, and he lay on the stone and ice floor, clutching at his injury and feeling nothing but pain and shame.

    He would have perhaps laid there until he died.  Warm, wet tongues lapped at his cheeks, adding insult to injury, then he felt strong hands on his shoulders, lift him back up to his feet.  She pressed a finger to his lips. Now that his eyes had adjusted, he could see much more clearly in the dim light that was emanating from the ice stalactites and stalagmites.  The pain was abating and he felt like he could follow her. With a single point at the ground and a very stern look, Dr. Mend¨¦s made both of the dogs sit on the rock and ice floor.  They looked like they would wait for her to return until time stopped.

    In the dim light, he was able to navigate between the hanging ice lamps and those that seemed to grow from the floor.  He could think of them as nothing else but ice lamps because that was what they seemed to be. The tunnel went on for a long time, and they penetrated deeper and deeper into the earth and ice.  Wendel had never been very good at the tests and contests at detecting magic fields. It was something that a lot of his peers called a talent and not a skill. Magic could be learned but there were a lot of areas of study that an inborn aptitude for helped with substantially.

    Wendel could sense the field now, and it was by a wide margin the most powerful he had ever felt.  Deeper and deeper they crept into the strange tunnel, until the light started to get brighter. Now there was a faint humming sound, and it filled Wendel with terror.  He didn¡¯t know what to expect at the end of the tunnel but he kept thinking of the doctor telling him not to do anything that would cause him to die.

    Finally, he felt a hand on his chest, and Dr. Mend¨¦s stopped.  She gestured to him and he didn¡¯t exactly know what her hand signals meant.  Then she started walking again, even slower than before. Suddenly, the tunnel opened into a vast cavern.

    The light was blinding now, and before he could see anything else Wendel had to close his eyes and shield the lids against the blinding light.  A hand on his shoulder forced him down to one knee, and he remembered the doctor telling him to kneel. This was better anyway, with his head bowed he could at least open his eyes.  He didn¡¯t know if he was supposed to look up, thinking of her warning about staring.

    Karene.  Welcome.

    I come bearing honor and respect ----- Wendel was hearing these words in his mind, the first had to be whatever was in this cavern, and it had called the doctor Karene.  The second was obviously the doctor, though her voice in his head sounded deeper and echoed. The last word she spoke, the name of whoever she was talking to was unintelligible.

    Wendel.  Welcome.

    I come bearing honor and respect.  Wendel thought these words as hard as he could, afraid to raise his head and afraid that not being able to repeat the name he had heard from the doctor might be perceived as an insult.  He heard a sound like snow falling from a tree branch and realized that the being they were visiting was laughing.

    You may raise your head, Wendel.

    Wendel raised his head, and looked upon the single most beautiful sight his eyes had ever beheld.  Filling the all of the visible space, hovering just above the floor, and reaching almost to the top of the indescribably big cavern was an ice crystal.  No, that wasn¡¯t right, it was a single snowflake.

    Your adoration fills me with joy.  Wendel blushed, and again he heard the sound like snow falling from a tree branch.

    ----- we come with a single question.  The doctor¡¯s voice again, and then all of a sudden images upon images of the villages surrounding the area.  The very villages that had sent them on this quest. Fields buried in snow, houses destroyed, lives in shambles.

    It is very tragic and yet it is natural.  The mountain gives and takes with the same hand.

    Thank you.  We will leave you in peace and solitude when the sun breaks in the morning.

    Thank you Karene, and understand that this one you travel with is destined for greatness.  Wendel could actually feel the confusion coming from the doctor!  Again he heard the sound that was laughter.

    <hr>

 Demetrius 2

    Demetrius had spent the rest of the morning moving from one secret place in the University to another.  He did his best to avoid people, and he tried even harder than that to make sense of the things that Cyndy was telling him.  The problem as he saw it, was not just his lack of understanding the words, but her seeming inability to maintain a line of thought to completion.  This he figured was probably a result of being an illusion. It seemed like her thoughts were her own in some ways, but it also seemed as if she darted from topic to topic like a bee flying between flowers.

    Now he was in the cafeteria.  He sat at the servants table. The table was crowded and yet he sat alone.  Rarely was he spoken to, and he never spoke to anyone. He had considered telling someone about Cyndy, but he couldn¡¯t think of anyone that he trusted enough to tell.  She was gone anyway, and he wondered if she was going to return.

    She said she was going to come back.  She said that she was going to do some ¡®geocaching¡¯ on her own in the University for some ¡®easter eggs¡¯ and flew off.  She promised she wouldn¡¯t be long. Demetrius was left alone in his secret alcove on the roof and decided that it was probably safe to head down to the cafeteria and get something to eat.

    The meal today was very good in his opinion, though he heard many of the students complaining about it.  It was meat and it was bread, and there were even vegetables. In all his years working and living at the University he had never grown sick of the repetition.  He thought back to a night in his youth, shivering on a stoop with the eave of a building barely shielding him from the rain, and crying because a larger boy had stolen his crust of moldy bread.  It was a very good meal in the cafeteria today.

    The serving staff at the table finished their meals, and made their way to their various duties, leaving him completely alone at the table.  They were the only ones in the room that cleaned up after themselves. The students were mostly lordlings, or the children of rich merchants.  They all ate voraciously, complained about the quality of the food and the frequency with which they were served the same things, and left their trays covered in filth on the dirty tables.  They¡¯d gather up their books and their belongings and leave the cafeteria in chortling groups. It was Demetrius¡¯ responsibility to buss all the tables, then wipe them down. He didn¡¯t mind.

    There was one table today however, that lingered well after the rest of the room had emptied, and while he made his way around the room cleaning the tables and picking up the discarded food and shaking his head at the waste, he couldn¡¯t help but overhear their conversation.

    One of the students speaking had a voice that would carry through stone walls, ¡°I don¡¯t really understand what you¡¯re trying to say, professor.  You think that the war was righteous?¡± The speaker was a stocky young man that had a face covered in acne scars, wearing the robes of a fourth year student over his large frame.

    It was a soft and silky voice that answered him, the speaker a professor that seemed to tower over the others at the table even while sitting, ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m saying at all, what I¡¯m saying is that we need to examine the situation objectively.  What they teach in the Ethics of Magic classes is based on fear, and we need to think for ourselves and ask ourselves what it is that we would do with our powers personally, rather than showing blind allegiance to a fear based rhetoric.¡±

    A pretty, fair-skinned girl wearing sixth year robes, that Demetrius had remembered watching from a distance over the last six years, the first to respond, ¡°I don¡¯t know, Professor Veles.  I think that there is a lot of reason behind the self-regulation of magic by the University. I think that the war is all the empirical evidence we need. Unregulated magic is a recipe for disaster.  In the Morality and Philosophy class, we are taught to examine the maxims. You know, maxims of skill versus maxims of morality.¡± Demetrius was trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, as he cleaned a table closer to the group and listened in unnoticed, ¡°We say for example that if we¡¯re examining only skill, the assassin who kills all of his targets by poison is as successful as the doctor who saves all of his patients, but that we can¡¯t base our beliefs on skill alone.  We have to ask ourselves if everyone were to universally apply the either skills, which skill is moral?  Because if everyone were to kill for money the entirety of society would collapse.  Just like it did when every wizard sought power and to rule as opposed. If everyone sought to heal like the doctor which could only benefit society.  At least, that¡¯s what I took out of the lecture.¡±

    Demetrius wondered if anyone noticed how long he¡¯d been washing the same table, but he was fascinated by the conversation, it was intriguing even the parts he didn¡¯t fully understand.  He moved across the room and started slowly gathering trays from another table. It was of course the professor called Veles that answered the young woman, ¡°That¡¯s very good critical thinking, Mariless.  Answer me this however, is it righteous for the doctor in your scenario to be obligated to use his skills and efforts. Is the knowledge that he has gained through his own efforts and labours, the herbs he gathers and the medicines he makes, are these things that he is to be forced to offer up freely to those in need of healing simply because of their need?  Or does he have a right to charge a fee for his services because of the value of what he is providing? Are those that he can help entitled to his help simply because of their need for it? And are we therefore obligated to offer our knowledge and our power to the kingdom simply because the king demands that we do so? Or is our power rightfully our own to use as we see fit?¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Demetrius considered the question as he walked the stack of trays to the waste bin, and began shaking the discarded food into the bin.  Demetrius enjoyed questions like that, they seemed to have many correct answers. He wet his towel in the bucket by the bin and rinsed it out, walking back to the table to wipe it down.  The students all seemed to be considering the question.

    It was a pale faced boy that seemed too small to be wearing second year robes who finally answered, ¡°I think our powers should be our own!  Regulation of magic seems to be an antiquated concept, I mean, it was important in dealing with war criminals, but we should be trusted to use any and all magic as we see fit!  I am no criminal.¡± The boy grew more and more excited with every word.

    The girl called Mariless looked shocked at his words, she was shaking her head when she said, ¡°No.  That¡¯s not right, there has to be rules, there has to be some order or who knows what would happen.¡±  The tide of the conversation was turning against her however.

    The large fourth years student spoke up again, ¡°I don¡¯t know Mariless, I¡¯ve always kind of thought it was unfair, we work so hard to learn to do so many things, and then we graduate and we have to get permits to use even the simplest cantrips!¡±  The other students at the table murmured their assent.

    Mariless seemed to be genuinely upset now, she gathered up her robes and her books, ¡°I¡¯m very glad that this little group of people is not in charge of thaumic law!  We have to have order or we¡¯d just be a pack of wild dogs fighting over the scraps of this continent like the Tower Wizards!¡± She stormed off, leaving the cafeteria.

    Veles took an appraising glance at the remainder of the group, and seemed to smile at the ideas that were apparent on their faces, ¡°We all have classes to attend.  Not everyone is open to new ideas, remember that.¡± He stood up and smiled a snake¡¯s grin, ¡°It takes an open mind to embrace new thinking, so many are stuck in the mire of tradition.  I am not saying there is any real truth to either side of the argument students, I¡¯m simply saying that you all need to think for yourselves. Let us adjourn for the day, and make our way back to our pursuit of knowledge.¡±  The group gathered up their books and made their way out of the cafeteria, leaving Demetrius completely alone.

    Cyndy¡¯s tiny voice chirped in his ear, ¡°Whatcha doin?¡±

    He dropped the stack of trays he was carrying, and reeled looking all around until his eyes fell on her tiny form. She was wearing a tiny tight-fitting black garment now. He had spilled the contents of the discarded trays onto his clothes, and he was trying to clean himself off as he spoke, ¡°I thought I was rid of you, demon.  I¡¯m cleaning. That¡¯s my job you know.¡±

    She smiled at him, hovering a few inches from his face, ¡°Oh Demetrius you are so much more than a cleaning servant you know.  You do so much more than that.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I talk to imaginary demons.¡±

    She laughed at this and flitted around his head as he picked up the fallen trays from the floor.  ¡°So I was thinking that maybe you could show me around the University some more. I¡¯m having trouble finding some of the easter eggs.¡±

    He sat the fallen trays back at the refuse bin, and looked around the filthy cafeteria.  There were many of his duties that he was sure would go unnoticed at least for a day or two if he were to neglect them.  Cleaning the cafeteria was definitely not one of them. He looked at the tiny woman hovering in front of him on nearly invisible wings, and poking at the tiny rectangle that never seemed to leave her hand.  His mind wandered back to the conversation that he had been listening to, and for the first time in all the years he¡¯d cleaned the University he wondered why it wasn¡¯t maintained by magic.

    Working in the University he was as aware as anyone not actually learning magic could possibly be of the rules and regulations of the school.  Magic was only used by permit, and acquisition of necessary permits was said to be quite difficult. Demetrius had overheard many an outraged mage throwing a fit about being denied a permit for this spell or that.  The professor called Veles made some interesting points. Why was it such a big deal to use magic? Why teach it all if it was going to be so heavily policed. Why was the University kept clean with buckets of soapy water and sweat when it could be cleaned instantly with magic!  He asked her, ¡°Do you think you could use some of your magic to clean this room? I, well I¡¯d have time, you know. To show you around, if you cleaned this room with your powers.¡±

    She giggled in her tiny voice, and answered through the fit of laughter, ¡°I¡¯m not magic silly.  I could no more clean this room with magic than you could! What makes you think I¡¯m magic?¡±

    Demetrius considered this.  He wondered if he was being mocked, and decided that he probably was but that there was no harm in it.  Still, the complexity of the spell to create this illusion was such that there was too much doubt in his mind that someone would go to such efforts to mock a servant.  There was also the question of the permits involved. Could there be a whole conspiracy involving the upper echelon of the school to mock me?  In spite of himself, he answered her, ¡°You are obviously magic.  I¡¯ve never heard of a race of tiny flying people, and that seems like the kind of thing the first years would talk about.  You were a tiny naked woman in the bathroom so at first I thought perhaps someone conjured you, you know, in the men¡¯s room.  A naked woman.¡± He cleared his throat and pushed on, ¡°Then there was the matter of your clothes appearing and disappearing. You seem to be able to come and go as you wish.  You speak in tongues. I mean, you¡¯re either of a magical origin or I¡¯m losing my mind!¡± It was the first time he had voiced the thought aloud, but it was not the first time today he had thought it. Have my years of self imposed isolation finally caught up with me?

    She cocked her head to one side, and hovered right in front of him speaking into her tiny rectangle, ¡°There¡¯s a perfectly reasonable explanation.  You see, the amount of magic that gets used here at the school has created a thinness between this reality and another reality where your exploits are observed.  I simply pushed on that thinness and found my way through.¡±

    He looked at her and said, ¡°Of course.  Makes perfect sense.¡±

    <hr>

 Wendel 3

    In silence Wendel and Dr. Medes made their way back to the entrance of the tunnel where the dogs had been staying. It was warm enough inside the tunnel in spite of the ground being made of stone and ice. Dr. Medes spread out a blanket. Wendel did not feel uncomfortable sleeping inside a rock and ice tunnel. Sleep came easily for Wendel. This was an unusual occurrence for him, the next day he wondered if it was because he had been exhausted down to his bone from the day¡¯s exertions.

    He awoke to Dr. Mendes shaking him gently by the shoulders. She still had not yet spoken since they left the sight of the giant snowflake, and that seemed to be the appropriate response. Wendel got up, checked his gear as best he knew how, and heard the sound of stone grinding and knew the tunnel was opening. The day was well begun already, the sun high in the air, and they began the trek back.

    Once they were a respectable distance from the tunnel, Wendel turned to Dr. Mendes and asked, ¡°So, is that it? That¡¯s all we came here to do?¡±

    She looked at him wryly and said, ¡°Yes Wendel, that¡¯s all we came here to do.¡±

    He started, ¡°But, I thought, I thought you were a thaumatological forensics-¡±

    She cut him off before he could finish the thought, ¡°We always use our resources Wendel. We always use whatever resources we have on hand. Remember that. There¡¯s no reason for me to go through a deeply involved forensic procedure when I can simply ask someone that knows what happened.¡±

    He tried again, ¡°But how do you know the-¡±

    ¡°Do you doubt the knowledge of a being capable of showing us what happened in our minds directly? Do you doubt the images you saw?¡±

    Wendel felt himself resign. He understood that he wasn¡¯t going to get anywhere arguing with Dr. Mendes. He also understood that he didn''t want to argue with Dr. Mendes. It seemed so anti-climatic. He had done his thesis study on forensics, and he knew that Dr. Mendez had a double doctorate. He had never read a paper she was the lead author of, but had read many papers on which she was given co-authorship. They were sent here because she was this renowned investigator. Now they were leaving.

    They continued uneventfully back through the mountains. Eventually he began to feel like they were going to get out of this frozen hell. They had broke for camp only once to eat and it was an empty conversation, and she had asked to see his hands again. He had been remembering to swing them as he walked and tried to keep pace with her. He seemed not to be suffering from the same sickness as the day before. She said it was something to do with homeostasis and adjusting to the elevation.

    They began their trek down the final slope and he could see the village that was employing them. He wondered how much money they had paid her to investigate this, he wanted to ask her but he did not want her to think he was implying that he deserved a cut of the profits. Unbeknownst to Wendel, Dr. Medes was here pro bono for reasons that were her own.

    Back in the village, there was a crowd of people waiting for them at the base of the slope. The village chieftain led the crown. He was a grizzled old man with wild white hair marred only by a few specks of black that hung on. His eyes were set deep in his sun hardened skin. He approached Dr. Mendes and asked her if she had discovered if the avalanche had been the work of an evil wizard, or perhaps some other sort of evil entity, cursing their village for something they had done. Some offense they had unknowingly perpetrated. Wendel could hardly understand the man, for his thick accent and his gruff manner of speech.

    Dr. Mendes bowed her respects, and Wendel felt obligated to bow as well. She explained loud enough for everyone in the crowd to hear that this was simply a natural occurrence. She used the exact same phrase that the crystal had used, ¡°The mountain takes with the same hand that the mountain gives.¡± That seemed to appease the village chieftain. There was little that could be done for the freshly dug graves on the outside of town or the destroyed houses and fields.

    Wendel consoled himself, telling himself that this was in fact a victory somehow. They discovered what they came here to discover and they would be moving on from this frozen hellscape soon. He hoped.

    They were offered hospitality. The chieftain explained that in spite of the fact that the news they came back with was negative, a feast would be thrown in their honor. Dr. Mendes politely declined, she took what gear was theirs from the dogsled and returned the dogs to their owners. Wendel was awestruck at all this, he thought a feast sounded lovely and he felt that a night indoors would be a welcome respite.

    Wendel tried to voice his objections, but Dr. Mendes said they had to keep moving. She informed him that there was another incident that needed to be investigated. Something about a flood. Wendel tried again as they were leaving the village, ¡°Dr. Mendes, um, I don¡¯t want to be rude. Or ask anything from beyond my station, but¡­¡± Wendel stammered for a moment as Dr. Mendes stared full into his eyes and then he forced himself to finish the question, ¡°Did he pay you?¡±

    She gave him a long sideways glance before finally answering, ¡°No, Wendel. He didn¡¯t pay me.¡±

    ¡°What!? What about the University, won¡¯t they expect reimbursement for the travel funds, and-¡±

    She cut him off, ¡°No, Wendel. The University doesn¡¯t expect such things from me. You¡¯ll understand if you ever have your own doctorate. Some of the things that the University investigates are things that simply need to be investigated. Often times the locals in areas like this can¡¯t afford to offer much more than hospitality.¡± They were on the outskirts of the town now, making their way back down the foothills.

    Some distance passed before she decided to continue the thought, ¡°If we had stayed for this feast that they were offering us, we would have been taking a large chunk out of their winter store. It would not have been right.¡±

    Wendel¡¯s mouth started before his thoughts had fully coalesced, ¡°Well¡­¡± He couldn¡¯t think of anything else to add, and let the word fall.

    The trail leading back through the foothills was a winding switchback, and now that they were carrying only the packs on their back, Wendel was seriously wondering where they were going to sleep that night. He knew it was getting late, though he couldn¡¯t see exactly where the sun was in the sky for all the trees and hills. It was getting darker though. The air had warmed up significantly as they made their way down the slopes to the lower elevations, but he knew that once the sun was down completely it was going to be very cold.

    He thought he¡¯d try a sideways approach at voicing his concern, ¡°So, where are we heading next, somewhere to get horses?¡±

    She stopped and looked through him before answering, ¡°No, Wendel, we¡¯re not heading somewhere to get horses.¡±

    ¡°Well-¡± He stammered and she interrupted him.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°Wendel, do you remember yesterday, when I asked you why you asked to be assigned to me?¡±

    Wendel¡¯s mind snapped back to that moment, when he felt like he was going to die. When his hands were puffy and unfeeling. She had tucked his gloves into his belt. ¡°Yes, I remember.¡± He said.

    ¡°You never really answered my question. You said that you loved my work. And you found it fascinating. And I asked you specifically what area of my field of expertise you found so fascinating.¡±

    They were moving again as they spoke, and making good time now. There was no longer snow on the ground around them. The trees seemed to be getting thicker, and the road was windy and narrow, laced like a thread between the thick foliage.

    Wendel considered for a moment before he spoke, ¡°I¡¯ve read a number of papers on which you were cited. Everyone back at the University talks about you as if you were a legend-¡±

    She interrupted him, ¡°See, that¡¯s just it. Everyone talks about me, but very few people actually understand what it is that I do. If I¡¯m going to take you on as an apprentice,¡± she had emphasized the ¡®if¡¯ so strongly that Wendel felt it like a slap, ¡°I need to know why you want to be my apprentice.¡±

    Wendel paused again, stopped walking and looked all around himself. He stared at the trees and the light filtering through the leaves. He considered the question. He thought of Dr. Medes at the head of the lecture hall, how she had looked in front of the class. Her skin so dark it seemed she was cut from obsidian, her strange black on black eyes, and the command! The woman could take a room and control it with just words. He didn¡¯t remember what the lecture was about, but he knew that he had fallen in love with her listening to her speak.

    He decided he would try with one of her stories that he had read firsthand after hearing about, ¡°The were-rats of Norn?¡± He stammered, barely getting the words out.

    ¡°The were-rats!¡± She repeated, ¡°Of Norn, were very sick creatures. I was doing a mercy. A kindness to them. They would have died on their own and taken as many of the people living in Norn with them on the way. It was like putting down a rabid dog. Do you understand that Wendel? Do you understand that that was a kindness and not the brave act of a hero slaying a beast?¡±

    ¡°Well, I guess so. I read your account you know, but nobody talks about that story like that.¡±

    ¡°No Wendel. Nobody talks about that story like that, because the truth is not romantic.¡±

    His mind was searching for other stories he had heard and read about he and landed upon one of his favorites, ¡°What about that rock titan?¡±

    ¡°Ahh,¡± She may have smiled but Wendel wasn¡¯t sure, ¡°I remember the rock titan. Yes! Not a bad fellow, once you got to understand his side of things. The dwarves had been mining into the mountain for years and when they stumbled upon his lair-¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± He interrupted her, and realized that it was the first time he had actually interrupted her, ¡°What really happened? Everyone says that you defeated the rock titan, and the dwarves were so grateful they-¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes. That ¡®they showered the University with their gold and gems.¡¯ I don¡¯t think it would be for the best if someone like you knew the full details of that story. I would like you to understand that the rock titan was not such a bad creature. And that I handled the situation the best I could. What the dwarves think happened was what the dwarves needed to think happened. What the University thinks happened was what the University needed to think happened. Wendel, do you understand the word politics?¡±

    ¡°I mean, I know the definition of the word.¡± He sounded indignant and petty. He hated what he could hear in his own voice, but he couldn¡¯t help it. She¡¯s belittling me!

    ¡°Let us call this a probationary period. We were both told that you were destined for greatness, and a creature that is older than humanity is rarely wrong, but the word greatness can mean many things, not all of them positive. Let us assume that I am going to allow you to travel with me, if I do, there are some things you need to understand. Not everything we do is exactly as it appears. There are many different kinds of truth in the world. Do you understand, Wendel?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I mean, I think I understand.¡±

    She stopped walking and looked him in the eye, ¡°No, you don¡¯t understand at all. But you will, you will in time.¡± The forest had seemed to change as they made progress, where they now stood there were tall and skinny trees, spaced farther apart, and Wendel looked past the doctor, and could see faint shadows of movement amongst the trees. ¡°Shh!¡± She cautioned him, and he realized that he had stepped on a twig trying to look past her.

    ¡°What?¡± He tried to whisper to her, and was shocked by how far he felt his voice carry in the near silence. She put her finger to her lip again in the universal gesture of silence, and he thought her black on black eyes darted around mady, but it was hard to say for sure. She gestured to him again with hand-signals that he didn¡¯t understand, and he was beginning to think that he was going to have to explain to her that he must have missed a class or two because he had never before seen this weird language of gestures that she used so frequently.

    An arrow hit the ground near their feet. It didn¡¯t lodge itself into the ground, but rather fell over onto its side. Wendel jumped back aghast and made a small fearful sound. He was in mortal fear for his life, and he began conjuring a spell. Dr. Mendes slapped him. She slapped hard across his cheek. It stung and hurt both his face and his pride. It broke his focus and the defensive ward he was casting dissipated in his mind.

    Several skinny and ugly looking men began making themselves visible, stepping onto the trail from the treeline. Wendel noticed that quite a few of them were women as well. They all looked filthy, wearing tattered clothes, faces covered in dirt, hair unkempt and matted. Each amongst them carried some sort of crude implement of destruction, some as crude as a stone tied to a branch. Others carried ¡®bows¡¯ made from green saplings. This is it, Wendel thought, I¡¯m finally going to see why everyone at the University calls this woman a hero.

    The largest and probably healthiest member of this group stepped in front of them. He was a broad shouldered man with a barrel chest. He wore a bushy beard that seemed to have things living in it, perhaps an entire ecosystem. He said in a gruff voice, ¡°Drop your packs. Drop your packs and empty out your pockets.¡±

    The doctor just stood there meeting his gaze with her own black on black stare. She said in a calm voice, ¡°And if we don¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Well, if¡­¡± The man seemed to be wanting to look anywhere but her eyes, stammering out a response, ¡°If you don¡¯t. We¡¯ll kill you, and take your stuff anyway.¡±

    She seemed to be considering this and said, ¡°Hmm, well. If you¡¯re going to kill us and take our stuff anyway then you had better just get to killing us.¡± Wendel couldn¡¯t feel any sort of a spell being conjured, and watched this exchange speechless.

    ¡°Oh! Come now!¡± The man with the big beard said, ¡°We don¡¯t actually want to kill you! We¡¯d prefer it if you¡¯d just drop your stuff on the ground, right!?¡±

    She took in the small crowd of skinny filthy bandits before she started again, ¡°None of you want to kill us, and we don¡¯t want to give you our belongings. Perhaps we can come to some sort of a bargain. What is it that you plan to do with our equipment, maybe I can be of assistance.¡±

    The man seemed to be completely confused by this train of questioning. There was a murmur spreading the ranks of the people around him. The doctor started speaking again and her voice carried over the grumbling crowd, ¡°I¡¯m a doctor, as it were. If there is anyone in your group that is injured or sick, I have quite a bit of medicine with me. I¡¯m also very well travelled and quite knowledgeable about fixing things. If you have any equipment in need of repair, or whatever sort of dwellings you are living in need maintenance, perhaps I could help you with that.¡± She seemed to be appraising the group as she spoke, her eyes moving from one filthy face to the next, ¡°But if you leave us without our blankets, without our food. We¡¯re as good as dead. Whether you want to draw the knife or not. You don¡¯t have the look of a killer. I know what killers look like.¡± She drew her upper lip back in what may have been a smile but to Wendel¡¯s untrained eye seemed to be more of a snarl.

    In a much softer voice, the man spoke again, staring at his feet, ¡°My daughter. She¡¯s sick. Back at the camp.¡±

    ¡°Ahh!¡± Said the doctor, ¡°I might be able to help you with that, but I won¡¯t be able to help you at all if you take our packs, and blankets and clothes.¡±

    ¡°All right!¡± He said gruffly, and he set his club down on the ground and leaned upon it, ¡°But no trickery!¡±

    The doctor looked at him, and the most innocent of smiles crept across her face. ¡°Of course not.¡± she said ¡°Lead the way.¡±

    <hr>

 Demetrius 3

    Demetrius woke up in the tiny room he called home. All around him were stacks of books, borrowed from the school library. His bed was a simple mattress piled high with blankets to keep off the chill. There were no windows, but he did have a magic lamp that he had been issued, along with a permit, after he had finally grown tired of running through candles and worked up the courage to ask the dean for it.

    The ¡®lamp¡¯ was a small stone that fit easily into Demetrius¡¯ hand. The use of the lamp was supposedly effortless magic. He was told he needed only adjust his thinking. Demetrius picked up the stone from where it lay next to his bed and concentrated. Nothing happened. He ran a hand through his unruly black hair and tried again. A faint flickering glow, and then darkness again. Demetrius felt like he was arguing with the stone.

    ¡°I know you believe you glow!¡± He whined, concentrating as hard as he could now. Still, nothing happened.

    Frustrated that he wouldn¡¯t be able to read this morning, Demetrius got up from his mattress and pulled his colorless smock on over his gangly frame. He opened the tiny door that let out of a hidden panel into a wide and empty hallway. The room Demetrius still slept in had once been a storage compartment for cleaning supplies. The panel was hidden in the wall to keep truant students from attempting to hide inside. Sometimes Demetrius thought mirthlessly it still was a place where cleaning supplies were stored.

    Today was Fireday, which meant that it was the last day of the week before the students had their two free days. To Demetrius, this meant only that it was the day when he cleaned all of the offices in the administrative building. There were eight, and he was responsible for cleaning seven of them. It was an all day task.

    Weak light was filtering in through the windows and Demetrius¡¯ feet carried him lazily through the hall. Above him in the men¡¯s and boy¡¯s dormitories, the students who were either too young to be permitted, or too poor to afford off-campus housing slept on. He reached the heavy wooden door and a chill wind embraced him as he stepped outside into the plaza.

    A mist hung over the courtyard, and Demetrius thought idly of doubling back for his coat. It was high summer, but at the break of dawn the air was still chilly. The plaza was unsurprisingly deserted as Demetrius made his way towards the cafeteria. He started up the short set of stone stairs leading into the cafeteria building, his mind swimming in thoughts of food and warmth when he saw it.

    FE,AR

    The letters were half again as tall as he was, glowing red, then orange, then yellow and red again. They were painted on the enormous double wooden doors leading into the cafeteria. Demetrius groaned inwardly. He was not going to enjoy his morning meal knowing that Meredith had either seen this or was about to see it.

    He opened the left hand door, pushing the FE inward, and scanned the cafeteria. A few students sat at one of the tables eating and chatting amiably over their trays of food. Demetrius wondered if they were the ones who had painted the doors, and thought dark thoughts about them.

    He made his way to the back of the cafeteria ad into the kitchen through the staff door. Ordinarily the kitchens were a bustling hive of noise and activity, but this early in the morning even the bakers were subdued. They uttered half-hearted greetings to Demetrius as he passed them and their massive ovens on his way to the scullery.

    From the taps he filled two buckets. One with an alchemical scouring agent, and one with rinse water. He made his way back to the heavy double doors. It was grueling work scrubbing the graffiti off the doors. The paint was clearly some sort of alchemical agent and it took Demetrius the better part of an hour to get all of the graffiti off. The work was made more arduous as he had to keep stopping to let the bleary eyed students in through the doors.

    By the time he had finished, the cafeteria was so full that he had to eat his toast and eggs standing up. He did this hastily, already feeling behind schedule. Though he was caught up in his own worries about the tasks that lay ahead of him, he was still uncomfortably aware of a tension in the air. At every table the students heads were huddled together and the sounds of so many combined whispers grew into a sort of hushed murmur. Demetrius was grateful to finish eating and leave.

    The massive plaza that was the center of the University was filling up now. Older, wealthier students were arriving by horseback or in carriages. Demetrius noticed a fearful pressure in the air here too. Ordinarily there would have been smiling faces, hands held high to hail friends, talk about exams and plans for the free days. Fireday was usually a happy day, but today everywhere Demetrius looked he saw people scurrying into tightly knit groups. He saw people looking over their shoulders and whispering, sidelong glances cast. Fingers pointed. Students were pulling up the collars of their cloaks though the chill had left the air. Demetrius hurried through the plaza, anxious to be away from all the mounting tension.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    The admin building was a squat, single story building. It was said to be the oldest building at the University. Many of the students believed there was a vault of treasure or a dungeon hidden beneath it. Demetrius had never seen such things, if there was a basement of any sort beneath the smooth stone floor, he did not know who cleaned it.

    The door was also smooth, polished stone. Demetrius looked it over and decided that yes, he would have to polish it once he was done with the offices. He sighed. It looked impossibly heavy but it swung inward on its massive hinges as if it weighed nothing. Demetrius made his way down the empty hall, passing the doors to three offices on his left. He always cleaned the office of Professor Regan first. At the end of the hall there was a hidden panel in which all of the cleaning supplies were stored, but he wouldn¡¯t need any supplies for Professor Regan¡¯s office. He turned right and then knocked on the first heavy wooden door on his left.

    At first there was no response, so he knocked again, harder this time. A slightly dreamy woman¡¯s voice called out, ¡°Yes? Who is it?¡±

    He smiled and replied, ¡°It¡¯s Demetrius, to clean your office, Professor Regan.¡±

    ¡°Oh, come in, come in!¡±

    Demetrius opened the door and carefully stepped inside. Professor Regan was the director of research and development, and she was said to be brilliant, but Demetrius had his doubts about the young woman. Every surface of the office was covered in stacks of paper. Half completed enchanted scrolls hovered around the desk that the slender Professor Regan stood behind, hunched over with a quill in each hand. She seemed to be simultaneously drawing diagrams and making annotations onto a parchment. Her unkempt brown hair stood out around her head like a mane, and the green robes she was wearing looked like they had been slept in. Or not slept in, for days.

    Demetrius carefully made his way through the maze of papers strewn across the floor and over to the refuse bin that sat next to her desk. ¡°Just the trash then today?¡± Demetrius asked eyeballing the large picture window that was so covered in diagrams it may as well have been a wall.

    ¡°What?¡± Professor Regan asked looking up from her work momentarily, ¡°Oh, yes, that¡¯s fine.¡±

    Demetrius picked up the bin and made his way out of her office. There were large metal bins outside of each building on the campus for refuse. It would be stored there until it was used as fodder for students practicing spellcasting. Demetrius empties all of the balled up pieces of paper and discarded pieces of fruit into the big metal box and made his way back inside.

    When he returned to Professor Regan¡¯s office, she was no longer alone. A massive man loomed in front of her desk. He stood ramrod straight, his feet planted firmly on two stacks of papers on the floor. Demetrius could easily make out the trail of wreckage his boots had wrought on his way to the desk. The man¡¯s bulk was enhanced by the heavy looking black armor he wore, with horn-like spikes protruding from his shoulders. There was a red and black helmet shaped like some sort of horrifying demonic face sitting on the desk, the man¡¯s bald white pate looked shabby sitting between the armored protrusions. At his hip was a long, dangerous looking thin blade that dangled precariously without sheath or scabbard from a hook on his belt. Director Lane. Demetrius sighed, holding the waste bin in his hands standing at the threshold.

    ¡°Listen little girl, you¡¯re either with us or against us!¡± Director Lane roared into Professor Regan¡¯s face, veins stood out on the back of his neck and he waved his arms aggressively, ¡°We built this establishment to Censor and Control!¡±

    Professor Regan looked back at her notes and continued making annotations, ¡°Such a silly motto, your department has. Censor and Control?¡± She raised her eyes but not her head, looking through her dark eyebrows, ¡°This is a school, Kimble. I am here to learn from my fellow wizards, and progress human knowledge.¡±

    ¡°You are an impudent child wearing her mother¡¯s cloak! Do you really think that the past can¡¯t repeat itself?¡± Demetrius was contemplating just setting the bin inside the doorway and walking away, but he was also afraid to move.

    He took a deep breath and mapped a new path to her desk where he could return the bin when a tiny chirping voice peeped in his ear, ¡°Oh man! You should watch that one! She¡¯s a firecracker, too bad she doesn¡¯t last too long.¡± Cyndy had returned, and the sound of her tiny voice startled Demetrius into dropping the waste bin.

    Director Lane turned around instantly at the sound of the bin hitting the floor, his sword was in his right hand glowing with blue flames. A violent looking ball of white light was held in his left hand before his face. Demetrius screamed and slammed himself to the ground, both of his arms protectively shielding the top of his head.

    Professor Regan shrieked, ¡°There you go! Jumping at serving boys! And you deign to tell me off, for reckless magic use!¡± She sniffed derisively and whipped a fresh piece of heavy parchment out of her desk. Director Lane hooked his sword back to his belt reflexively, and the white light puffed out to nothing just as fast.

    He could hear Cyndy giggling ferociously in his ear. Slowly he lowered his hands, and raised his face ever so slightly.

    The bull of a man pointed his finger threateningly at her, ¡°Are you writing up another fucking account for Stinson?¡±

    In reply she raised one eyebrow and continued writing. Demetrius slowly started to stand up. He needed to leave before he was pulled into this ¡®account.¡¯ Sure enough, before he hit the doorway he heard Professor Regan say ¡°A servant boy, Lane? Flies, next?¡±

    Demetrius almost started running when he heard Director Lane¡¯s scream, ¡°At least I don¡¯t have my head so far up my own ass that I can¡¯t see the writing on the gods damned walls!¡±

    ¡°Oh? I always encourage school spirit.¡± The following sound rattled the window frames, and Demetrius was happy to dodge into the cleaning closet.

    <hr>

 Wendel 4

    Wendel was frantically trying to recall the things he had not paid attention to in Herbal Medicine and Application. It was a boring class, he was trying desperately to justify his ignorance to himself. Ignorance that might mean the difference between life and death for this girl. Wendel had paid attention learning healing spells. He knew the charm for Healing Hands by heart, and he even knew how to use Healing Blossom though he lacked the permit to do so. He would have needed Dr. Medes to sign off any spells he did cast. Before she left she had emphatically told him he was not to cast a single charm. ¡°Not even a cantrip,¡± she had said. The part that scared him was that the girl was getting worse. If she dies the guilt will surely kill me.

    Wendel was flipping through pages in a book. Dr. Mendes had told him that he was not to let the girl get too hot. He had been replacing wet cloths on her forehead. The book he was flipping through was not his spellbook. He thought that if he was a certified wizard it would be his spellbook. He¡¯d flip through the pages, find the right spell, and the girl would be saved. His spellbook was at the bottom of his travelpack, and he was reading a book about herbs, their identification, and their applications. He glanced up at the girl who was thrashing in her fevered sleep.

    Wendel looked at the girl¡¯s father who was standing in the corner of the cave they had moved her to, ¡°Salix alba? Salix alba? Birchum, did she leave us with any, do you know?¡±

    His voice was gruff, and his gaze seemed distant when he answered, ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s coming back. I¡¯d wager she could have saved her, but she didn¡¯t. She left us with you.¡± The man spat in Wendel¡¯s direction, ¡°She left us with you and the way I see it, that makes you responsible. If she dies.¡± Right, Wendel thought, the guilt won¡¯t have to kill me.

    Wendel tried to keep the whine out of his voice unsuccessfully, ¡°She¡¯ll be back, I¡¯m sure of it. You said it was two days ride by horse both ways. Well it¡¯s only been two days and she didn¡¯t even have a horse. Now, look at this drawing and tell me if she left us with anything that looked like that in the bag of medicine she gave you.¡±

    The huge man crossed the space of the tiny cave in three steps and looked over Wendel¡¯s shoulder at the picture in the book, ¡°Don¡¯t know about no Sally Alba, but that¡¯s willow. Are you daft, boy? I think there¡¯s some growing down by the stream a ways.¡±

    Wendel read and then reread the excerpt about the salix alba, and how to make a tea from it. It would have been easier if the girl was awake. It would have been a simple matter of having her chew on the bark. Being that she had fallen out of consciousness yesterday and not returned, he figured they could brew the tea, and force her to drink it. He hoped that it wouldn¡¯t make things worse.

    Birchum instructed a few of the more able-bodied men to go and gather the willow bark, and Wendel kept up the appearance of reading the book. He did not want to appear to be idle, and he also did not want to go with them. He was wondering if the order against magic applied to cases of his own life being in peril. Such as an enraged father attempting to insert a dull knife into his stomach. What he had learned from his short time travelling with Dr. Medes, was that it probably did.

    An eternity passed, Wendel removed the now warm dry cloth from the girl¡¯s forehead and replaced it with another cool wet one from the bucket nearby. The men that had been dispatched returned with the bark. They looked to Wendel for agreement that it was the correct bark, but before he could answer the bear of her father spoke up. ¡°Is it willow bark boys?¡±

    They said that it was, and now asked Wendel how they were supposed to prepare it. He proffered the book, and started to explain before he was cut off again by Birchum, ¡°Don¡¯t bother trying to point to them words in that book. Ain¡¯t a one of us that can read it. And before you go making some comment about ignorant hillfolk not being able to read, remember which one of us didn¡¯t know a willow tree from the pitcher.¡±

    Wendel pulled the book back, and started, ¡°I would never say something so offensive to those that had offered me their hospitality while I made a dangerous journey through the countryside.¡± His eyes moved from one dirty face to the next, before they returned to the book, ¡°It says here that we can make a tea from the bark if we steep it long enough in boiling water. Do you have a pot we can use?¡±

    They did have a pot, and a fire was built close to the dry cave where the girl was resting. Wendel was forced to be the one to actually put the bark in the water. In his mind, it seemed like any one of them could have done it effectively. Shouldn¡¯t they have a medicine woman amongst them? He decided it couldn¡¯t hurt to ask about this while the bark steeped in the water.

    Birchum seemed to be considering the question for a long time before answering, ¡°Aye. We did have a healer in our village. Medicine woman and midwife she was. Aggie, though most of us just called her Grams, on account of her being the one what brought the lot of us into the world. Kind of like a second mother to everyone.¡± He spat and stared into the fire, it crackled and popped waiting for him to continue, ¡°Grams, ya see, she didn¡¯t much care for the Baron¡¯s taxes. Oh she paid ¡®em fine the first time, but that was enough for her. When they came back the second time and said we all had to pay again on account of the tax collectors being robbed, she told them she wasn¡¯t going to pay. She said she already paid once, and if they lost the money then that was their problem. They set fire to her house. And they barred the door before they did it.¡± Birchum stood up and made his way around to the other side of the fire, he stared into the sky as he finished the story, ¡°She had an apprentice you know. My brother¡¯s daughter. She was beautiful, took after her mother she did.¡± Wendel glanced up to see the man smiling at the sky, ¡°She went a¡¯runnin¡¯ at the door of the burning house, clawing at it with her hands, but the brutes just snatched her up. Bound her hands and feet, and threw her over one of their saddles. They waited until Gram¡¯s place was just a pie of ashes before they took off. My brother, he made his way after them, said he was going to get his daughter back. Never came back, and I know I wouldn¡¯t have either if I¡¯d have gone with him like I should¡¯a. That was just the second time they came for the taxes.¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Wendel was dumbstruck. He stirred and stirred and inside him something hard and cold bloomed. Even if it kills me, I¡¯m not going to let this man¡¯s daughter die. Birchum walked off without another word, and Wendel tended the tea. After about an hour he figure there wasn¡¯t much else that could be steeped out of the bark, and so he set it to cooling. The girl¡¯s condition looked about the same when he checked, and once the tea was cool enough to handle, he did his best to strain it through a cloth and into a bowl.

    Getting her to swallow it was another challenge in its own right. Wendel was very aware of the possibility of the girl choking on the liquid and so he took his time with the ladle. It felt to him like a drop at a time went down, but eventually half of the tea he had made was gone. Now it was just a matter of waiting to see if it had any effect.

    Back at the University, Wendel thought he knew about stress. He thought that stress was studying for a final exam in a class he considered boring. He thought stress was asking a girl to dance at one of the annual formal galas. Not that he ever actually asked a girl to dance with him, but just the idea had been enough to set his heart aflutter and leave him rattled and shaking. That night Wendel learned what stress was. He saw it Birchum¡¯s face and felt it in his heart as the two spent the night in near silence changing the cold cloths on her forehead.

    Birchum was finally the one to break the silence. ¡°Her name is Nadez.¡±

    Wendel was startled from the fog of his worries, ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Nadez, her name is Nadez,¡± Birchum repeated, ¡°I just thought that you ought to know. And, well, thank you. I know that this isn¡¯t your problem and we kind of made it yours, but I can tell you really care. Thank you. I¡¯m not holding you responsible when it happens. You did your best boy.¡±

    Wendel went to replace the cloth on Nadez¡¯s forehead again, it had been long enough that he expected it to be dry and warm. He had achieved a sort of rhythm in the two days that he¡¯d been tending the girl. It was still wet and cool. ¡°I think that it might be fine if you held me a little responsible. I think the tea is working.¡±

    Relief swept through the room, and Birchum was on his feet and over the girl with his hand on her head in seconds. ¡°Aye boy, ya did it!¡±

    Time seemed to finally start moving again now that the fever had broke. Wendel convinced Birchum to get some sleep, promising to alert him if there was any change. Nadez was still sleeping, but she no longer thrashed. Wendel watched her all through the night. He kept changing the cloths, but now he was certain that the girl wasn¡¯t going to die. When the morning light began to filter through the opening to the cave and fell on her face, she stirred.

    Wendel was up and over her when her eyes opened, and she asked weakly, ¡°Papa?¡±

    Wendel could not in all his life ever remember feeling such relief, he exclaimed,¡°He¡¯s here Nadez, he never left your side!¡±

    Birchum was shaken awake, and there were tears. The rest of the camp was roused by the celebratory shouting, and in their revelry they did not hear the sound of approaching hoofbeats. Dr. Mendes surveyed the situation from atop a glorious white horse, with a brown horse following her on a lead. She said, ¡°I think that it¡¯s best I came back when I did. Didn¡¯t I tell the lot of you to lay low and stay quiet? And here you are, hooting and hollering at the dawn like roosters.¡±

    Wendel came running out of the cave, and stared up at her on the horse. ¡°I am so glad to see you! I¡¯ve never been so afraid in all my life, I thought she was going to die!¡±

    Dr. Mendes dismounted and looked him up and down, she asked ¡°When did you last sleep?¡±

    ¡°Uh, in the cave, not this one. The ice one. But she¡¯s recovered. Or recovering. I just know it, she¡¯s going to make it!¡±

    ¡°You need rest Wendel. Luckily the Baron was kind enough to grant us the use of two of his finest steeds, so we can make up for the time we¡¯re going to lose while you sleep.¡±

    The fatigue of three and a half days coupled with the relief of knowing Nadez was going to live crashed into him all at once with her words. He felt himself slipping into sedation as if he¡¯d been hit with a sleeping spell in a practice duel. It took the last of his depleted reserves to follow Dr. Mendes as she made her way through the celebrating people, quieting them all with sharp reprise as she went. When she finally entered the cave, and after a cursory examination of Nadez, she began to explain what had happened with the Baron to Birchum.

    Wendel was dead on his feet, but he was as desperate to hear the story as anyone. He felt everything slipping in and out of focus as she told it. She wove a tale of intrigue and barter. She had apparently made her way to the Baron¡¯s keep, and explained to him that she was there to help investigate the losses of the taxes that were owed to the king. She had explained to the Baron that it seemed like a matter of incompetence, not being able to get the tribute from his keep to the capitol safely, and that she would be inspecting the keep to make sure that the taxes hadn¡¯t accidentally been left there. It would be a terrible thing, she had explained if the king were to find out that the taxes hadn¡¯t actually been lost to bandits on the road but had been lost in the Baron¡¯s coffers.

    Wendel couldn¡¯t keep track of all the details, apparently at some point the Baron decided that the people from the razed village should take up residency in the keep. He would be leaving very soon to visit some distant relatives, far far away.

    It wouldn¡¯t have mattered, he thought wishing that he wasn¡¯t too tired to follow her words, she¡¯s not telling them the truth. She¡¯s telling them what will become their truth.

    <hr>

 Demetrius 4

    For Madam Druce¡¯s office, Demetrius would need all of his supplies. He spent perhaps a few moments more than necessary gathering the brushes, powders, water and gloves into a small wooden cart. The entire time his heart was beating so loud in his ears, blood rushing far too hard through his thin chest, but not loud enough to drown out Cyndy.

    ¡°Ohmygod Fiona is such a badass! Did you know that she has a tower in the ocean? She does not take shit from anyone. She was even telling Pseudopolis off, you know, when she could. She holed herself up real good.¡±

    Demetrius looked up quizzically, ¡°Who is Fiona?¡±

    Cyndy giggled, ¡°Professor Regan, my oh-so-formal friend, the esteemed director of Research and Development.¡±

    He gasped, gaping and wide eyed at that. ¡°Professor Regan has a tower? No one¡¯s to have towers! No wonder Director Lane was so angry with her.¡±

    ¡°Oh not yet, silly!¡± Demetrius tried to ply her for more information, but all he got from her was repetitions of ¡°No spoilers!¡±

    So, he walked, wheeling the squeaky cart down the hall, and knocked five times on Madam Druce¡¯s door. A pleasant old voice chimed, ¡°Come in, Demetrius.¡± In he walked.

    The room was large and brightly lit, with many devices and much clean glass. Little vials and flasks of all shapes, tubes longer than his arm, and all sizes of rod glittered on the long, clean countertops. A solitary glass cup stood over a small flame, happily fizzing a bright orange. Madam Druce was seated next to it, face buried in a spectroscope. Demetrius smiled. The calm and silence was penetrating, and was unlikely to be broken as he cleaned and sanitized the floor and countertops.

    He set about his work, silently holding his finger to his lips whenever Cyndy started buzzing in his ear. Finally, in a huff, she said ¡°Well, if you¡¯re going to ghost on me, I have a police box to find.¡± and flew away, popping into nothingness a few inches from his face.

    The room slowly filled with the smell of the pungent powder Madam Druce had given him to sanitize the floor. The only other sound was when she would write something carefully on a thick, organized sheaf of paper. She was wearing shiny black boots with white cloth tied around them, so as not to track anything into the laboratory. This was technically her office, but she told the Dean that it had the best foundational stability for her experiments, where the other buildings blew in the wind and brought odd things on the drafts. Demetrius always took great care when coming and going from this room, it was his favorite place in the whole University. He was also wearing the little cloth covers over his shoes. He would wear them everywhere if he could, and he wished fervently that it would make a difference in most places.

    Halfway through the final disinfectant rinse, there was a tentative knocking on the door. Demetrius had been cleaning this room for the past three years, and had only been interrupted once. It was for a safety drill, and Madam Druce had not moved from her experiment, so Demetrius had continued cleaning as well. So now, hearing the knock, he almost cried out. It¡¯s not Director Lane. It can¡¯t be.

    Without looking up, Madam Druce said in her never-perturbed voice ¡°Enter.¡± The door opened with a small puff of air, and in walked a slender young woman with dark skin who Demetrius recognized as being a fifth year student from her robes. At least she¡¯s wearing the shoe slips.

    ¡°Madam Druce, I need to talk to you.¡± The girl had a raspy, syrupy voice that held a lot of affection, but Demetrius resented the intrusion.

    The old woman stopped what she was doing and set down her quill. ¡°Abigail, what do you need, that you are not in class?¡±

    She gave a wide-eyed, frightened look and said ¡°Class was canceled, because of the protest.¡±

    ¡°It is always a bad sign when people start listening to the mob. What can I do for you?¡± Madam Druce spoke, a comforting smile on her lips that didn¡¯t reach her ancient eyes.

    ¡°They said,¡± The girl¡¯s voice started to hitch, and tears welled in her eyes. Demetrius felt awkward, and looked down at his mop. The girl spoke through a choked sob, ¡°They said that they were going to shut down the University!¡±

    Madame Druce rose from her seat, it was a painful and slow process, Demetrius watched her from the corner of his eye. She walked carefully, one hand on the table to support herself, and when she reached Abigail she placed her other hand gently on the girls shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ve been through many hardships in my life, child. Would it really be that bad for you if they did? What¡¯s the worst thing that can happen?¡±

    Abigail burst into violent sobs, her voice was a harsh and terrible screech, ¡°I¡¯d have to go back home!¡±

    Madame Druce smiled, and hugged the girl, ¡°No one can make you do anything. If this silly school shuts down, why would you go home? There¡¯s more than just this school keeping you from home.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? I don¡¯t even have my license.¡± The girl was speaking into Madame Druce¡¯s shoulder, ¡°I can¡¯t make my way into the world without a license.¡±

    ¡°Child, if there¡¯s no University, there¡¯s no licensing board,¡± She laughed and it was a soft sound, like leaves falling, ¡°You are an expert Alchemist. Top of the class, you¡¯ll do fine. Just fine.¡±

    Abigail seemed to pull herself together, ¡°You really think so?¡±

    ¡°Alchemy is a proper trade, not like Enchanting or all of the gods forbid, Philosophy.¡±

    The dark young woman laughed at this, ¡°Well, if the school does shut down, where will you go?¡±

    ¡°Honey, if this school shuts down then I¡¯ll go back to my home. This place, it¡¯s just a place. There¡¯s nothing special about it. Don¡¯t let these puffed up blowhards ever tell you any different either.¡± She pulled herself away from the girl and looked her up and down, ¡°I¡¯ve got work to do, and so do you. No class just means you¡¯ve got time to focus on independent research. If anyone tries to keep you out of my lab, you just tell them to come and talk to me.¡±

    The girl thanked her mentor, and left again. Demetrius was grateful. Madame Druce shouldn¡¯t have to put up with this. Demetrius thought, surprising himself. The rest of his work in Madame Druces office went by without incident, and when he was done he trundled the little cart back to the closet, and returned to her desk. It was a ritual that she and Demetrius had developed in the time he had been cleaning for her. She always insisted on thanking him for his work.

    ¡°I¡¯ve finished for today.¡± Demetrius spoke with his eyes down, waiting for her to acknowledge him. It was a few moments of her adjusting the slide on her spectroscope before she finally made a few more notes, and looked up at him.

    ¡°Demetrius, how old are you?¡± She asked, and Demetrius felt a little exposed. Normally, she would just thank him, and occasionally she would offer him a piece of some strange fruit or vegetable.

    ¡°I don¡¯t exactly know, I¡¯ve been working here for eleven years though, and I must have been at least five or six when the headmistress brought me in.¡± He wanted to ask her why she had asked him, but he didn¡¯t want to step over his bounds.

    ¡°You are a bright lad, those two books you have of mine, just keep them.¡± He waited expecting her to say something else, but it seemed that she would not.

    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re not going to need them?¡± Demetrius had a foreboding feeling, like a weight in his chest.

    ¡°I am almost two hundred old, Demetrius. I won¡¯t need them where I¡¯m going. You¡¯ve grown into a fine young man. Follow your instincts Demetrius, hard times are a coming for us all, and I¡¯m tired. You run along now, I know you¡¯ve got work to do.¡± She spoke wistfully, and Demetrius felt sad and worried.

    ¡°Thank you, Madame Druce.¡± He said turning to leave.

    ¡°Oh!¡± She called out, ¡°I almost forgot, this is for you. It¡¯s called a dragon fruit.¡± She produced a strange looking fruit, all bright pink and green, and handed it to him with a trembling hand. ¡°Be careful of the company you keep in the days to come, Demetrius.¡±

    He stared at the strange looking fruit, thanked her again, and desperately wanted to ask her why she was telling him all of these things. He had never had a very long conversation with her before, but she had always been more than willing to loan him her books, even though he wasn¡¯t actually a student. With a heavy heart, he left her office, sealing the door behind him.

    Demetrius returned to the supply closet, and gathered up his feather duster and his step-ladder. The directors of Material Science and Magical Linguistics both had office filled with paintings, and all he usually did for them was dusting. He left the dragon fruit in the supply closet.

    The director of Material Science was a middle aged man with stooped shoulders who seemed to perpetually have bags under his eyes. His office was neatly kept, and did not reflect the work that he did the way Madame Druces did. There was a large, very well made desk, and several comfortable chairs in front of it, as well as a massive one behind it.

    The most interesting things in the office to Demetrius were all behind glass. Directly in front of Demetrius as he walked into the office was a long and beautiful table that ran the length of the entire wall. The table was built with a glass case attached to the top, and beneath the hinged glass lid were innumerable trinkets, everyone marked with a little plaque describing what it was. Demetrius had cleaned this office for years, and the objects beneath the glass changed with great regularity, but one thing that never changed was the massive painting on his right that encompassed almost the entire wall floor to ceiling.

    ¡°Mornin¡¯ Demetrius.¡± Director Fletcher sat behind his desk in his overstuffed chair, fingers tented and his chin resting on his thumbs. He looked even more tired than usual, and stared at the painting though it seemed as if his mind was miles away.

    ¡°Good Morning Director Fletcher.¡± Demetrius made his way over to the long glass table, and began dusting it from top to bottom. The glass was covered in fingerprint and smudges, and Demetrius was shocked to see that many of the objects that should have been there were missing. The little etched plaques sat there with very obvious voids behind them. Demetrius kept looking over his shoulder at the director, and the man stared seemingly without blinking.

    The glass table was easy to clean, and once he¡¯d dusted it he polished the glass. The smudges seemed like they were on the other side, which was unusual. ¡°Director, do you want me to clean the inside of the case today?¡± Demetrius asked tentatively, unsatisfied with the state of the glass pane. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what you do.¡± Fletchers voice was a low rumble, and he spoke without removing his chin from his thumbs.

    Demetrius felt abashed at this. He had left his step-ladder out in the hall, and decided that he would just dust the frame around the painting and be done with it. He opened the door to the hallway, and saw the director of Philosophy and Ethics hurrying down the hall, his long brown hair flapping behind him like a flag. He looked scared.

    Demetrius returned to the painting with his ladder, and very carefully stepped up to the top rung. The painting was beautiful, it was a true masterwork. It showed a lovely young blonde haired woman sitting beneath a tree in the setting sun with two little blonde girls upon her lap. They were all smiling and joyous, and Demetrius always thought the painting was a stark contrast to director Fletcher¡¯s usually grumpy behavior.

    Once the frame was clean, Demetrius climbed back down, and looked over at the director again. ¡°Well, it doesn¡¯t look like your rubbish bin needs to be emptied, so unless there¡¯s something else?¡±

    The director said nothing, he just stared. Demetrius felt uncomfortable in the silence, fearful even. He grabbed the ladder and made his way back out into the hallway. Once the door was shut behind him, he leaned on it for a moment trying to gather his thoughts. His introspection was ruined however when Cyndy burst into the air in front of him.

    ¡°What¡¯cha doing?¡± Her voice was shrill. She was wearing some new sparkly outfit he¡¯d not seen before, that seemed to be almost metallic.

    ¡°Uhm, I¡¯m cleaning the administration building. You know, it¡¯s my job and all.¡± Demetrius picked up the ladder and began making his way back down the hall. ¡°It¡¯s Fireday.¡± He added, as if that explained everything.

    The next office was the director of Philosophy and Ethics, and Demetrius tried the door handle. Cyndy buzzed around his head, and then said, ¡°He¡¯s not in there. He¡¯s not even on the grounds right now.¡±

    ¡°How do you know that?¡±

    ¡°Timey-wimey.¡± She said these nonsense words matter-of-factly as if they explained something.

    Demetrius sighed, and knocked on the door. No one answered. He had seen the director running down the hall, but he thought he was just going to the washroom. Maybe he¡¯s still in the washroom. Demetrius sighed and picked up the little wooden step-ladder again. He walked down the hall, and strangely Cyndy buzzed around his head without saying a word. The rectangle she carried with her always was close to her face, and she was poking at it with her hand.

    The door to the next office was a work of art in itself. It was inlaid with gold trim and beautiful filigrees. There was a knocker in the center of the door that was shaped like an owl with gemstones set in its eyes, and above the knocker was a plaque that read ¡°Professor Gretchen Helstrom III, Director of Thaumatological Linguistics, Esq.¡± Demetrius heaved a heavy sigh, squared his shoulders, and ever so gently rapped the owl shaped knocker against the door. The sound that rang out was like a thousand tiny windchimes of the finest crystal clattering against each other in a gentle breeze. It was a sound that always made Demetrius¡¯ skin crawl.

    A melodic and perfectly pitched voice called out, ¡°Permission is granted, that the office may be entered.¡± Demetrius sighed, and gathered up his ladder, opening the door and stepping inside. There was a picture window behind the desk, and the sun that filtered through was bright, falling upon rows of the most delicate looking crystalline and jeweled eggs.

    ¡°As it has always been, the office is to become clean. The surface of each egg will be rid of dust, the hardwood desk polished. These things will happen, and when it is done you will have worked in silence. Our conversation will not be interrupted.¡± Professor Gretchen Helstrom III, Director of Thaumatological Linguistics, Esquire, spoke in a very melodic, lilting voice.

    She was the single most beautiful woman Demetrius had ever seen. Left eye a brilliant jade green, and her right eye a smokey grey. Skin the color of chocolate, perfect complexion and a figure that she had no qualms about parading in the tightest fitting and most expensive looking clothing. Hair the color of honey, perfectly straight some days and curled on others, today it framed her face almost veil like. Dressed today in an almost subdued suit of dark shimmering grey material and a white blouse, that was only half buttoned. Jewels glittered around her neck, all over her hands and bangles sat upon her wrists. Her makeup seemed to change colors as she spoke, always accentuating.

    She was also the single most annoying person Demetrius had ever met. Almost. ¡°O. M. G! Her makeup looks so good today! I mean, you read about it, and they certainly tried, but words can¡¯t do it justice! She¡¯s gorgeous!¡± Cyndy buzzed around Demetrius¡¯ head as he made his way very carefully over the glowing marble tiles of the floor to the pedestal of the first jeweled egg.

    Under his breath and as softly as he could, Demetrius said, ¡°You know it¡¯s all an illusion, right?¡±

    Cyndy was unperturbed, ¡°Of course I know! Anyways, it¡¯s not all an illusion, and besides,¡± she gestured running her hands up and down her body, now also wearing a tiny little grey suit with a white blouse, ¡°You think all of this is real?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think any, of that, is real.¡± Demetrius spoke without so much as moving his lips. This was a terrible morning so far, and he could not endure a lecture from Professor Gretchen Helstrom III, Director of Thaumatological Linguistics, Esquire. Still, it seemed he would have to endure listening to her voice as she was currently entertaining another staff member.

    Sitting on the opposite side of the desk was a man who looked even older than Madam Druce. He was a withered husk of a man, as if all his muscle and fat had slide off over the years, and only his indomitable will carried on. Clean shaven, with wispy white hair only growing above his ears and neck, and flowing ever so gently above the shiny bald patch in between; he sat dressed in a fine black suit that looked incredibly shabby compared to the silvery clothing Professor Gretchen Helstrom III, Director of Thaumatological Linguistics, Esquire was wearing. He was officially Professor Kevin Gaster, Esquire, honorable Chief Justice of the Supreme Thaumatological Court. Everyone just called him ¡®Judge Gast¡¯.

    Judge Gast¡¯s spoke with a ludicrously loud voice, and Demetrius was cringing trying to pay attention to the egg he was dusting as he listened, ¡°Gretchen, you need to understand! I say, this isn¡¯t the first time that people have brought up the idea, and it won¡¯t be the last! But we already know! We already know what will happen!¡± He was also banging his hand on the desk as if he was trying to get her attention, though she was only a desktop away.

    ¡°The present is not defined by the past.¡± She spoke in the same beautiful and melodic voice, and Demetrius couldn¡¯t help glancing up from his work to look at her.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Judge Gast shouted, ¡°What¡¯s that you said girl?¡±

    ¡°The present,¡± the judge leaned forward in his chair, craning his neck and tilting his ear towards her as she spoke, ¡°is not defined by the past.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re mumbling! Speak clearly.¡± The judge shouted across the desk. A terribly unnattractive look graced her face for a moment, and Demetrius shivered, quickly turning his eyes back to the egg her was dusting as gently as he could.

    Professor Gretchen Helstrom III, Director of Thaumatological Linguistics, Esquire, began speaking but the words were not in the language of men. Demetrius knew right away she was casting a spell, he¡¯d seen it done so many times in his life that it didn¡¯t even really interest him, but when a few minutes passed, and her speaking stopped, the result of the spell was not what he had been expecting.

    She spoke again, and though it seemed she had not raised her voice in the slightest, and the tone and pitch were still perfect in every regard, the words seemed to radiate from everything. The surface of the walls, the desk, the chairs and even the egg Demetrius was dusting were all vibrating ever so slightly. Her voice was everything in the room, Demetrius even noticed that his grey smock was vibrating ever so slightly. At the sound of the first few words, Cyndy disappeared, an angry expression on her face.

    ¡°The present,¡± in a voice like the thunder of heaven, ¡°is not defined by the past.¡±

    ¡°What the seven hells do you think you¡¯re doing!¡± Judge gast was up on his feet, he was waving his walking stick furiously in the air punctuating his words with it, ¡°What a frivolous waste of magic! Do you even have a permit for such a spell! I can check with Kimbal you know!¡± Judge Gast seemed to decide that the outrage wasn¡¯t worth the exertion, and slumped back into the chair, ¡°Good man, that Kimble. Now there¡¯s one who knows the damage that magic can do.¡± The judge was still shouting, but the sudden upset seemed to have taken a lot of his vitality.

    ¡°No research that has been done at this University will have define the use of Thaumatological Linguistics as having caused lasting damage, thus it will be understood that the use of a spell is as moral as the user.¡± Her voice was terrifying. Demetrius wanted to run from the room. It wasn¡¯t loud, it was just all encompassing. ¡°Regardless my permits will be found in my desk should the need become a reality rather than empty rhetoric.¡±

    Judge Gast seemed somewhat mollified at this, and did not seem to be physically bothered by the voice of a million edges. He¡¯s deaf, this must actually be nice for him.

    ¡°You¡¯re starting to sound like Marcus, you know I don¡¯t have any truck with the nonsensical Philosophy. Words need to have meaning, that¡¯s how we can define law and enforce it. When you start to twist words, the whole system falls apart.¡±

    She continued as if she¡¯d never been interrupted, ¡°Careers has been made of twisted words by you and all those who have learned you trade. Nothing is benefited by what you teach.¡±

    ¡°How dare you! How dare you! Child!¡± Judge Gast seemed to find his strength again, and when he rose from his chair this time, both his hands rested on the desk. He leaned very close to her face as he shouted, ¡°I made it possible for you to be here! I made it possible for anyone to be here! This was not a school, this was an enforcement agency working the will of the good king to better the world. We tore down the towers! We stopped the genocide! Your parents weren¡¯t even born yet while I was creating a continent of peace from the fires of chaos! You forget your place, child!¡±

    She smiled as he shouted. Demetrius¡¯ could not look away from the scene. He was transfixed, and in his distraction, he knocked the jeweled egg he was cleaning from its resting place upon the pedestal. He felt the weight of it as it fell, and his eyes snapped back in time to see it smash into the tile, and shatter into infinitesimal pieces. They glistened like fresh snow catching the light. Tears welled up in Demetrius¡¯ eyes. Oh, she was already so angry!

    And yet there was no screaming, which Demetrius was fearful of, it would be so loud, amplified as her voice was. Her smile actually widened, and Judge Gast looked at her, seemingly ready to spring on her if she attacked Demetrius. Specks of spittle rested on his chin. The beautiful woman behind the desk very calmly began speaking, and she did not stop for minutes. Five, and then ten. Judge Gast sat back down in the chair, and was panting heavily trying to catch his breath. The spell was amplified, and the words seemed to seep into Demetrius¡¯ mind, and for the very first time in his life, he was feeling what he had read about described in so many books.

    He felt the belief that the spell was weaving into reality. The belief that what she said was shaping what was, what would be, and even what had been. She stopped. His heart stopped swelling with her words. A deep part of his mind wished that she would keep going because he finally felt it. The language was finally becoming solid. He had studied so many books fruitlessly, and now they were coming to fruition in the endlessly resonating echo chamber that was this office. The pieces flew into the air, and the glimmering dust that was so much detritus moments before was now a glistening jeweled egg. Demetrius looked at it, really appreciating it for the first time, though he had cleaned this same egg countless times. It was brilliant, white inlaid with gold and silver. Hues of stained glass wrapping around it in red and blue seeming to fade into and become innumerable shades of violet and purple. All of the fear of punishment he had felt quickly faded into nothing.

    She leaned back in her chair looking tired, and Judge Gast spoke without shouting this time, almost to himself, ¡°Custom, class A, and I know damn well you have no permit for it, because you just fucking wrote it!¡± He stood up, and leaned on his heavy walking stick. ¡°I¡¯ll be talking to Kimbal about this.¡±

    He turned as if to leave, but walked with such a strong limp that he¡¯d only made two steps by the time she spoke. ¡°The value of some of the buildings on campus do not add up to the value of that egg.¡±

    Judge Gast turned his head, and looked over his shoulder, shouting, ¡°And you damn well know that we could have issued you a permit to repair it! You can¡¯t just cast a spell like that! Off the cuff! It¡¯s illegal!¡±

    She said calmly ¡°Repair that was harmful to no one,¡± and with a glance at Demetrius that shrunk his insides, ¡°And this wretch was saved his job. It can not be said that there was any harm in what was done.¡±

    ¡°It sets a precedent, you ignorant child. I¡¯ll have you brought up on charges.¡± He stumped over to the beautifully carved door, and opened it so forcefully it rebounded off the wall. ¡°Mark my words.¡± He hobbled into the hall, and Demetrius was left alone with Professor Gretchen Helstrom III, Director of Thaumatological Linguistics, Esquire.

    ¡°The services you render will not be needed today.¡± Her voice was no longer amplified.

 Wendel 5

    It looked like any other forest to Wendel. There was a pungent, spicy smell to the air, and the trees had a uniformity he did not normally associate with forests, but otherwise it seemed like any other grove. The trees all had the same dark grey bark, and were tall and straight. There was no underbrush here either, and the going was very easy.

    Wendel missed the horse he had come to think of as his own. Dr. Mendes had insisted that they give both horses to the villagers that had survived the earthquake. That had been another fruitless investigation as far as Wendel could tell. Not only had the earthquake been natural, but the villagers had nothing to offer as payment, and Dr. Mendes had given them a large portion of their travel rations and their horses to help with the rebuilding.

    They were being led through the forest by a man on horseback. Wendel missed riding. It wasn¡¯t so much that he didn¡¯t like walking, it was just that walking for days on end led his mind into a fugue state. By the time they ever got anywhere, Wendel always felt like he was asleep on his feet. Dr. Mendes moved like the wind, propelled by sheer determination.

    ¡°Right up through here,¡± said the man on horseback, Wendel was trying to remember his name. It may have been Patrick.

    ¡°And what makes you think it¡¯s a curse?¡± Dr. Mendes asked.

    The man stopped for a minute and looked down at her from his lofty seat, ¡°I think that it¡¯ll be better if you just see for yourself. I¡¯ve always paid my tithe, and I don¡¯t have any truck with magic.¡± He ushered his grey horse forward, and Wendel had to half jog to keep up.

    The section of the forest that they came into next was almost identical. Tall grey trees, with sprawling branches and green leaves. There was one tree though, that seemed much different than the others. The top of the tree had gone a sickly yellow color. The leaves seemed to be wilting in places, like they were preparing for winter, though it was High Mellow.

    The man dismounted from his horse and he made his way over to the discolored tree. He gestured to Dr. Mendes to follow him. Wendel hurried to catch up, and watched as the man began peeling the bark from the a branch on the discolored tree with a knife he had removed from his belt. The bark of the tree with the yellow crown had appeared the same as all of the other trees, but once it was removed, black sickly looking legions became apparent. They looked almost like burns. As if the tree was being burned alive beneath its bark.

    Dr. Mendes leaned in for a closer look and then asked, ¡°How many of the trees have you examined?¡±

    The man looked nervous for a moment and then said, ¡°As many as I could stomach to look at. Magistrate Hedgford, he said that the trees were going to be what saved us, you see. I haven¡¯t told anyone else about this, and the only other people that know about it are the men in my crew. Trustworthy boys, they are.¡±

    Wendel asked, ¡°What¡¯s so special about these trees?¡±

    Both Dr. Mendes and the man whose name may have been Patrick snapped their heads around as if they had been walked in on during some lewd act. It was Dr. Mendes who answered her apprentice, ¡°They¡¯re black walnut trees, Wendel. They were planted, oh ten years ago.¡±

    ¡°Fifteen, actually,¡± amended Patrick.

    Wendel took in the uniformity of the forest they¡¯d been walking through again with better understanding. ¡°So the trees aren¡¯t going to make walnuts anymore?¡±

    Patrick looked at Dr. Mendes and his expression seemed to question why Wendel was allowed to exist and breathe the forest air. Dr. Mendes gave an almost imperceptible shrug and said, ¡°Black walnut is a hardwood tree. It¡¯s planted so that the wood can be harvested and sold. It¡¯s very valuable. It¡¯s doubly profitable because they start fruiting many years before the trees are large enough to be harvested for wood.¡±

    ¡°The magistrate,¡± Patrick dropped his voice to a whisper now, ¡°is indisposed at the moment. He¡¯s gone to Puissant City to see the king about something or other. I figured, while he¡¯s away, maybe I could get someone from the University to investigate, and if you could solve the problem. Without having to tell him. It may be for the best. He¡¯s been in an awful temper of late.¡±

    Dr. Mendes placed a hand on the tree farmer¡¯s shoulder and said, ¡°I will need some time to do my investigation. I make you no promises, this is more than likely a natural occurrence and there may not be any magic involved.¡±

    ¡°I understand, ma¡¯am. I even said so in the letter I sent,¡± Patrick sighed heavily and put his knife away, ¡°but if it is magic, or the work of an evil god,¡± he made some sort of strange gesture over his chest with his hand at this, ¡°I hope that you might be able to help. The good people of Kentvale put a lot of work and money into this many years ago, and to have it all go to waste would be a cruelty.¡±

    The man climbed into the saddle of his grey horse, and rode back the way they had come through the forest. Dr. Mendes returned to the branch that had been stripped of its bark, and took off her leather backpack. She quickly produced a large magnifying lens, and held it up to the branch. ¡°Wendel,¡± she said, ¡°come look at this objectively and tell me what you see.¡±

    The lens she held was huge, one of the biggest that Wendel had ever seen that wasn¡¯t attached to a standing frame. ¡°I see multiple squirming black insects, very small. Two sections to the creature¡¯s body with asperities on the prothorax. The rough uneven surfaces seem to overlap in the middle of the insect''s abdomen.¡±

    Dr. Mendes said, ¡°That¡¯s a very accurate observation Wendel. I am pleased that they at least taught you bug collecting at the University. Science couldn¡¯t march on without gathering accurate data. Now, how do you think we should proceed?¡±If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Wendel considered the question, and then he said tentatively, ¡°Well, if we are correct to assume that the beetles are the cause of the disease, we could cast a targeted drain life ward on each of the trees to fend off the beetles, and¡­¡±

    Dr. Mendes interrupted him, ¡°You don¡¯t know, do you?¡±

    Wendel looked ashamed, ¡°No, really I have no idea what we should do.¡±

    ¡°Neither do I. And I am not ashamed to admit that Wendel, and you shouldn¡¯t be either. I don¡¯t know what they¡¯re teaching at the U anymore, but they shouldn¡¯t be producing a generation of scholars that are afraid to admit that they don¡¯t know something.¡± She put her lens away and put her pack back on her back, ¡°Come on, we need to consult an expert. If she still lives around her.¡±

    ¡°Another elemental?¡± Wendel asked, excited.

    ¡°No, an old witch woman, expert in alchemy and biology.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Wendel sounded disappointed, ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯d ever consult a human on something.¡±

    She paused mid-stride and turned to look at him, ¡°What? Why?¡±

    ¡°Because well, I didn¡¯t think there was anyone who knew¡­¡± he trailed off.

    ¡°You think I know everything! Don¡¯t be daft, Wendel. No one knows everything!¡±

    <hr>

    They made their way southwest through the tree farm until they reached a forest proper. Here the underbrush was thick and the travel became difficult. It was as if they had crossed an invisible line. Instantly the trees shifted from the thick trunked dark grey of the black walnuts to all varieties. Many of the trees were coniferous, and they were growing in every direction, the strong smell of pine meandering into his sinuses. There was no obvious trail they were following, and Dr. Mendes just pushed through the branches as if they weren¡¯t there. Spiderwebs kept sticking to Wendel¡¯s face.

    It wasn¡¯t long before the flagstone walls and thatch roof of a small well-kempt cottage became visible. Wendel was grateful that the brush was cleared away here. The grounds around the cottage were as immaculate as any of the parks in Two Lanes. An elderly woman in heavy work clothes was transplanting flowers onto what looked like a large freshly disturbed patch of soil. She looked up from her work as Wendel and Dr. Mendes approached, and a look of suspicion became happy recognition on her gnarled face.

    Without standing up she waved and called out, ¡°Karene! Oh child, it has been too many years!¡±

    Dr. Mendes made as if to bow, and Wendel tried a clumsy to imitation. ¡°Clara, you have aged beautifully.¡±

    The old woman patted the dirt down around the roots of the plant, and finally rose. She brushed her hands off onto her thick brown trousers, and smiled a toothless grin, ¡°And you haven¡¯t aged at all! You are as striking as the last day I saw you. Dark as that day was.¡± She gestured with her hands, leading the way towards the door to her cottage, ¡°What brings you to my door?¡± She said, opening to the door to her cottage with a flourish and another toothless grin, ¡°And who is this young man you keep?¡±

    Dr. Mendes and Wendel walked into the beautiful and simple room. The floor was hardwood and the hearthfire was kept burning low in the corner. All of the furniture was comfortable and classic, old fashioned but worn soft with years of use. Clara made her way into the spotless kitchen and put a kettle on a hook over a small cookfire. She added split pieces of wood from a nearby stack and made herself comfortable at one of the chairs around the heavy wooden table.

    Dr. Mendes sat at the table and Wendel sat next to her. He wasn¡¯t sure if he was supposed to introduce himself, and he didn¡¯t want to speak out of turn. Dr. Mendes broke the silence and said, ¡°This is Wendel. He is my probationary apprentice, and you may speak freely in front of him. I trust him with his life.¡±

    It seemed a very odd turn of phrase to Wendel and he wondered if perhaps he had misheard. He gave another half bow from his seated position and said, ¡°I am very pleased to meet you.¡±

    The elderly woman looked from the Dr. Mendes to Wendel and back to Dr. Mendes, ¡°Apprentice huh? So you¡¯re still working with that school of stookies?¡±

    Dr. Mendes stifled a small sound that may have been a laugh, ¡°Well, I consider my work to be philanthropic in nature. Someone must keep a hand on the rudder lest the ship run aground.¡±

    ¡°Karene,¡± Clara spoke with a solemn gravity, ¡°the ship is already sinking, you know that as well as I do. Ever since that nasty business with Brielle-¡±

    ¡°What can be saved,¡± Dr. Mendes interrupted, ¡°I must try to salvage. Now then, I come here seeking your expert council on a matter of local import. There is a tree farm of black walnuts just northeast of here.¡±

    Clara spat over her left shoulder with the aplomb of a veteran and the kettle began to hiss from its place over the fire. She rose, and placed three saucers and three cups on the table. From a glass jar she scooped a brownish powder into each of the three cups and began to pour water from the kettle into each of the cups.

    ¡°I take it you know the trees I speak of,¡± Dr. Mendes said, reaching for her cup.

    Clara said, ¡°You know they burned down cottages to plant those trees? They clearcut the land and ran the halflings off. I don¡¯t know what became of them.¡± She sipped her cup, ¡°They tried to take my land as well. They offered me a place in the village, which was more than they ever offered the halflings.¡±

    Wendel took a sip from his cup. It was a strange flavor that he could not identify. It was good but very bitter. It made his eyes water.

    Dr. Mendes said, ¡°I see. So you released the beetles.¡±

    Clara laughed a short derisive laugh over her cup. ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous. Bark beetles have been around forever and a day. I no more released those beetles than I caused the sun to rise or the rain to fall.¡±

    Dr. Mendes took another long sip from her tiny porcelain cup and then said, ¡°You are saying that it was just bad luck then?¡±

    Clara gave Wendel a sideways glance before answering, ¡°No. Not luck. It was actually a lot of work. I traveled far and wide to collect the spores that those beetles carry. It was no more than they deserved. They seek to profit off of the displacement of an entire village.¡±

    Wendel gasped at this. He felt himself tense up, he was waiting for Dr. Mendes to arrest her. The silence in the room was interrupted by the sound of Dr. Mendes drinking from her cup again. She placed it back on the saucer with a loud clink and laid her hands flat on the table, palms down. The silence swelled and finally a buzzing sound erupted like thunder from Dr. Mendes¡¯ left hand. Her ring was vibrating. A call from the University.

    ¡°Duty calls,¡± Dr. Mendes said, raising her left hand and looking at it as if she¡¯d never seen it before, ¡°I wish dearly that I had more time to stay and visit with you Clara. It is always my pleasure. Terrible bad luck about the tree farm, it seems.¡±

    <hr>

 Demetrius 5

    Demetrius gathered his cleaning supplies quickly, carrying his ladder under his arm, and casting furtive glances over his shoulder at the resplendent woman behind the desk. As he left he noticed that her eyes now seemed both to be a dark brown. Demetrius closed the door behind him. The clopping sound of Judge Gast¡¯s gait, assisted by his heavy walking stick, drew Demetrius¡¯ eyes down the hall. He set off the other direction, towards the headmistress¡¯ office.

    The door to her office was open, and as Demetrius crossed the threshold, and his feet sank into the plush carpet. He felt a familiar feeling of safety. Haidi Atbis sat behind her desk, a quill in one hand, and a scroll of parchment spread out before her. The floor was a deep forest green, and the walls were all paneled in a dark wood that was shades stretching from black to the darkest red. Behind her the courtyard could be seen, lunchtime was approaching and the students should have been making their way to the cafeteria. The courtyard, however had an oddly abandoned look. The sound of her quill scratching at the paper was all Demetrius could hear, none of the usual laughter or conversation was carried through the picture window.

    Standing stock still in the doorway, Demetrius knocked on the doorframe very lightly. The headmistress looked up from her writing, and the sound of the sharp quill on parchment stopped. Her eyes had a sunken look to them today, and her skin seemed to sag as if she¡¯d recently lost weight and missed sleep. Her hair was tightly drawn in a neat bun behind her head, but several loose salt and pepper strands weaved this way and that around her face like errant students. Her eyes had a milky whiteness to them Demetrius had never noticed before.

    ¡°Ahh, Demetrius,¡± She spoke very softly, and the very quietness of the afternoon was again deafening in Demetrius¡¯ ears, ¡°Is it Fireday already?¡±

    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am,¡± Demetrius was trying to look anywhere but her sad eyes, ¡°the floor and the window today?¡±

    She nodded, and looked back at her parchment, picking up her quill and filling the silence with the sound of scratching. Demetrius frowned, and set to work cleaning the high window behind her. He would dust around the frame of the picture window, and then he would clean the glass itself before he would do the carpet. The carpet was quite the chore, requiring him to retrieve tea leaves from the cafeteria that the serving staff there would save for this purpose on Fireday every week. He did not mind though, there was nothing he would not do for the headmistress.

    Usually, she had kind inquiries for him about what he had been reading lately. Just last week, he recalled, they¡¯d had a lengthy discussion about a book he was still reading about the culture of the nagas. Today, there was nothing but the sound of scratching, and as he wiped down the window from top to bottom, all he could see of the students in the courtyard were huddled groups. In the distance looking angry and defiant, seemed to be a large group of students with signs standing in front of the regulatory office where permits for the use of all manner of spellcasting and enchantment were requested, and often denied.

    The window done, Demetrius sighed again to himself, and climbed down from his ladder. He looked up at the window, and tilted his head to and fro watching the high sun catch the glass at different angles. It was clean, though judging from the woman hunched over her desk, still not looking up, it wouldn¡¯t have mattered much either way. Demetrius left without a word. He made his way quickly down the hallway towards the storage closet, and left his ladder and bucket and rags. Then he set off again towards the cafeteria.

    Demetrius crossed the courtyard again. The sun was high and warm on his face contrasting with the oddly chill wind, and he could smell the bay on the breeze, salty and fishy. As he approached the cafeteria, he could hear the assemblage of students outside the regulatory office chanting. Their voices were a dull murmur, but he thought he could make out the word ¡®freedom.¡¯

    Inside the cafeteria, Demetrius made his way to the backroom. The room was oddly empty for lunchtime, most of the huge tables were occupied by only two or three students, their heads bent low, their voices faint whispers. Demetrius braced himself for the kitchen. It should have been bustling and loud, with people shouting ¡®behind¡¯ and moving from place to place, chopping and stirring and cleaning things. Instead, the cooks were also huddled in tight little groups, seemingly more concerned with conversation than cooking. Demetrius walked through the subdued workplace, and gathered the tea leaves that had been set aside for him. There was a sandwich as well, with fresh lettuce and tomato slices as well as a big slice of meat. Demetrius thanked the cooks, and made his way back outside, taking big bites of his sandwich as he went, and relishing the sweet crispness of the vegetables and the way they contrasted with the savory flavors of the bread and meat.

    By the time he returned to the admin building the sandwich was gone, but he felt much better for having eaten. His nerves were seeming to steady, and his mind was wandering back to the conversation he had overheard in Madam Druce¡¯s office. ¡®They said that they were going to shut down the University!¡¯ Who had said that? ¡®Would it really be that bad for you if they did? What¡¯s the worst thing that can happen?¡¯ For the girl to whom Madam Druce had been speaking, it didn¡¯t sound like much. From what Demetrius had gleaned, Abigail was a fine student of Alchemy. Demetrius on the other hand had no idea what he would do should his home ¡®shut down.¡¯

    Demetrius¡¯ shoulders were slumped, and his sun-starved skin looked even more sallow than usual as he carried his tea leaves and broom into the office. Still the quill scratched on the parchment, and the headmistress did not even look up as he entered. He began the laborious process of carrying out the three chairs and the end tables. He had often times been assisted in this work by the headmistress, but she did not seem inclined to take notice of him today. Carefully he walked the narrow bookcase outside into the hallway. All that remained of the furnishings was the chair the headmistress was sitting upon and the desk that she was huddled against so tightly, writing with the frantic motion of a squirrel hiding food.

    Carefully, starting in the far corner and working his way backwards, he spread the moist tea leaves upon the plush carpet, and a now very familiar giggling erupted in his ear like the tinkling of a tiny bell. ¡°What¡¯cha doin¡¯?¡± Her voice was shrill as ever, but in the light of the cold reception, Demetrius was grateful for the company.

    He smiled, and whispered, ¡°Sweeping the carpet.¡±

    She flew in front of him, and darted back and forth from the bristles of his broom back to his face, ¡°It looks like you put a bunch of mud on the floor!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re tea leaves, they keep the dust from rising.¡±

    She gave him a sidelong appraising look and Demetrius¡¯ felt the corners of his mouth raise even higher, ¡°Why don¡¯t you just vacuum it?¡±

    Demetrius had no idea what she meant, ¡°Don¡¯t know what a vacuum is,¡± he said honestly.

    The headmistress¡¯ quill stopped, and she looked up and spoke, ¡°Did you say something, Demetrius?¡±

    Demetrius looked over at her and then immediately back down at the floor, ¡°Nothing ma¡¯am, just talking to myself.¡±

    She smiled at him and though her face was tired and weary it cheered him to see her aged smile, ¡°I¡¯m sorry I don¡¯t have time to talk today, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed everything that¡¯s going on around here.¡±

    Demetrius paused and thought about this for a moment before responding, ¡°Things do seem a little tense around the campus this morning.¡±

    The headmistress¡¯ smile vanished, ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure it does, but don¡¯t worry we¡¯re handling things.¡± She returned her gaze to her parchment and seemed to be reading for a moment before she started writing again. Demetrius resumed his sweeping.

    Cyndy was waving her little rectangle around, and interrupted him again to ask, ¡°Couldn¡¯t they just clean everything with magic?¡±

    Demetrius shook his head, and Cyndy frowned at him again before saying, ¡°Well, they could clean with magic!¡±

    Demetrius glanced at the headmistress again but she seemed thoroughly involved in what she was writing again, ¡°It¡¯s a matter of permits.¡±

    The scratching of the quill stopped immediately, ¡°Of course it is! But we have to abide by the law, we can¡¯t just let people run around casting any spell they wish! That¡¯s a slippery slope back to Towers and enslavement!¡± Her pale face seemed to be flushed with color.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to,¡± Demetrius started to say, but the headmistress looked furious.

    ¡°I mean, what do they want from me! Standing out there with their signs, led by that backstabbing bastard, Veles, and his ¡®free energy¡¯ movement!¡± Her voice was slightly shrill, and Demetrius was terrified. He had never seen her in a rage like this before, he wanted to disappear, to fade away. He looked down at the floor and saw that it was almost entirely still littered with tea leaves.

    Demetrius resumed his sweeping, carefully removing the tea leaves and the dust they caught. He kept his head down, and said nothing further, completely ignoring Cyndy. Finally she vanished, and Demetrius wished he could with her. The rest of his time sweeping stretched on for an eternity. At long last, the carpet seemed to be clean, or at least free of the tea leaves. The headmistress was still writing, and seemed to be occasionally stabbing at the parchment.

    Once Demetrius had returned all of the furniture, he said, ¡°Whatever happens, I¡¯m sure that you will do the right thing for the school.¡±

    The woman to whom Demetrius felt he owed his life looked up at him, and said, ¡°That will be all for today, Demetrius. Take care of yourself.¡±

    <hr>

    The dean had a high nasally voice that a Demetrius felt didn¡¯t fit with his huge, almost round body. He was sitting at his desk below Demetrius reclining his bulk into the overly cushioned chair, ¡°Terrible luck that. Nothing you can do to save the trees?¡± He paused for a moment listening to a voice Demetrius couldn¡¯t hear and then continued, ¡°Well it¡¯s just as well, we¡¯ve received word of a higher profile case. Wrap things up there as quickly as possible,¡± again he paused and listened and then he said, ¡°Town by the name of Uriel, right out there on the edge of the desert. From the sounds of things the entire village is dead. We need you to get there as quickly as possible, Dr. Mendes.¡± He sat up in his chair and began searching through his desk drawers.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Demetrius was high above dean Stinson, leaning precariously on a stepladder. The dean had one of the largest windows in the University directly behind his desk and the dean liked it to be cleaned twice as often as the rest of the offices in the admin building. It always amazed Demetrius that the top of the window managed to get dirty at all, considering it was twelve feet above the floor. He leaned back so that he could see the window catching light at different points, and satisfied he began descending the ladder.

    In spite of the dean¡¯s nasally voice, the private office offered a welcome respite. Demetrius was not eavesdropping deliberately but there was no way to avoid it. Lately there seemed to be no way to avoid listening to all sorts of conversations. Many of them rather heated. Demetrius had never been able to stand the sounds of an argument and now the entire University was at each other¡¯s throats. They fought their verbal wars in the halls, in the cafeteria, the dorms and the lecture halls. They even carried the arguments with them to the bathrooms and yelled at each other through the stall walls.

    When Demetrius reached the floor, the dean swiveled around in his chair and stared out the window. With his pipe in one hand and a snifter of brandy in the other he looked every bit the ancient scholar that he was. The dean was bald on top and had long ago decided that the only logical course of action was to grow the rest of his hair out as long as he could. He wore a pointy blue hat covered in golden stars, crescents, and all manner of geometrical figures. His robes were the same stately blue and seemed to swell like the ocean around his midsection. Demetrius began folding up his ladder and the dean asked him, ¡°Have you seen the graffiti?¡±

    Demetrius had in fact seen the graffiti. It was a new thorn in his side that competed with Cyndy for his irritation. He said, ¡°Yes, sir. I¡¯ve been doing my best to clean it up everywhere I see it.¡±

    The dean swirled his brandy and puffed at his pipe. He blew a smoke ring and then blew another ring through the first. When he spoke his high voice seemed like it came from a distant place, ¡°They wouldn¡¯t be writing those things if they¡¯d been there,¡± he raised his glass to his lips, ¡°in the war, you know.¡±

    Demetrius felt like something was expected of him, but he didn¡¯t know what exactly so he said, ¡°It¡¯s right difficult to clean, sir. I¡¯ve been having a lot of trouble.¡±

    The dean seemed to be considering this and finally he said, ¡°You do a good job around here, Demetrius. When Atbiss took you in, I wondered if you were going to rob the kitchen blind and run away that same night, but you stuck it out. You¡¯re as much a part of this school as anyone.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± Demetrius said, and at his ear he heard the familiar sound of Cyndy giggling.

    ¡°That will be all for the day,¡± the dean turned his chair back around towards his desk, ¡°lock the door behind you on your way out please.¡±

    Demetrius carried his step ladder out into the hall and then locked the thumbolt on the door to the office. He looked around furtively and said, ¡°Are you planning on taking off again, or did you get your fill of listening in around the campus? ¡±

    Cyndy was poking at the rectangle that never left her hand, she looked up at Demetrius, strangely solemn and said, ¡°I suppose. It¡¯s really something you should be concerned with though.¡±

    Demetrius walked and Cyndy flew beside him. He was carrying the ladder under his arm, his steps furtive in the once hallowed sanctuary that was the admin building. There were no students in the halls, no sounds at all but his own echoing footsteps. He could bask in the blessed silence while he was still here. The ladder returned to the custodial closet now, and he had no reason left to linger. He made his way towards the exit shambling like a ghoul.

    ¡°It sounds like pain to me,¡± he said with a sigh, ¡°I can¡¯t stand it. Everyone is so angry lately, and they think they¡¯re screaming at each other, but really they¡¯re just crying out in pain like wounded animals.¡±

    Cyndy flew directly in front of his face and said, ¡°Oh Demetrius, just when I begin to wonder if it was a mistake to try and meet you, you remind me why you¡¯re my favorite!¡± She planted an almost imperceptible kiss on his forehead and flew out ahead of his as soon as he opened the door.

    Between the cobblestone paths that formed a filigree, were patches of grass and flower beds, and the occasional bench or refuse bin. Few students and faculty were walking along the paths making their way in various directions, but for the most part they stood huddled together in tightly woven circles of suspicion. It was late afternoon and there were some more things he could have cleaned before nightfall, but the air had a thickness to it that he didn¡¯t like.

    Demetrius decided that he would make his way to the men¡¯s dormitory as quickly as possible. His reading had suffered greatly since Cyndy had decided she was a part of his life. Tonight, he would skip the meal served at seventh bell and skip the arguments. He would stay in his room and read. It wasn¡¯t as if his room was soundproof, but at least the thin walls would dampen the sound, should some of the students in the adjacent dorm start yelling. If he was reading, he would have something to distract his mind from their hateful sounds. The book on the culture of the naga was fascinating, and though the headmistress had not wanted to discuss it with him today, there was always next week.

    Halfway between the admin building and the dorms he had to pass the protestors. They were well dressed, wearing ceremonial robes usually saved for graduation. Each of them held signs made of wood with vellum stretched between a wooden frame at the top. Many of the signs said, ¡®FE,AR¡¯ though some had more elaborate messages written on them. The more text however, the smaller it needed to be, and so even passing close enough to touch a bright-eyed and fair skinned girl who was shaking her sign fervently, Demetrius could not read what was written on it. It seemed to be a paragraph.

    Surrounding the group were the campus security. Their office functioned directly under the Licensing and Regulations, whose very office was being picketed. They were mostly newly graduated students. Demetrius had overheard many students talking about the security, saying that they were too incompetent to pursue any other career field. They looked rather bored, large men and women in the black robes of their office, each of them with a strange looking rod at their side. They stood in a loose semi circle, not between the office, rather between the protesters and those passing.

    At the forefront of the group, stood professor Veles, Demetrius recognized him immediately. Everything about him seemed greasy. He had his black hair slicked back on his head giving him an almost reptilian look. Tall and muscular, with tan skin, Demetrius had heard many students comment on how handsome the junior professor was. To Demetrius, he looked skeevy, like some of the street urchins he used to run from. He was standing on a wooden box that Demetrius recognized as one of those that the school used to ship out the soap manufactured by the first and second year alchemists. He was chanting with the rest of the group, but as Demetrius got closer to him, he raised his hands and those assembled around him silenced. He began to pontificate, gesturing wildly with his hands to punctuate his words.

    ¡°Gathered comrades, feast your eyes upon the oppressors, siccing their jack boot thugs on we, the peacefully assembled!¡± Demetrius looked again at the bored looking security agents, he didn¡¯t see any boots. One of the younger looking men who couldn¡¯t have been much older than Demetrius was wearing soft looking slippers.

    ¡°This military oppression of our right to free speech, and Free Energy,¡± he paused here, raising his hands high above his head, and the gathered protestors all chorused him, shouting ¡®free energy!¡¯ Satisfied, with the echo of his words, he carried his speech on, ¡°This oppression, is just the beginning! We labor under a false pretense! Do we study so that we can be slaves?¡± And again he waited for the response, his followers shouted ¡®no!¡¯ in unison, and Demetrius considered leaving the scene.

    Other students started approaching now, cautiously like scavengers sniffing at carrion that may still be alive. Demetrius looked around, and found that it was quickly becoming a crowd he was standing in. There was ill murmuring. Veles did not seem concerned, if anything the negative audience seemed to spur him on to even greater heights of grandeur.

    ¡°You who stand before us, shielding yourselves in petty ignorance, in the belief that what you were taught is the only thing that can be true, how will you account for yourselves when you find you are on the wrong side of history?¡±

    An angry woman¡¯s voice that was somewhere in the mob Demetrius now found himself trapped in called back, ¡°You are standing on the side with the Towers!¡±

    Veles smiled as a wave of agreement rippled through the crown, and even some of those who were standing just below his perch looked shamefaced, searching for anything to see besides eyes that might hold judgement. Veles had to start with a shout to bring attention back on himself, ¡°Are you so weak! You, the best and brightest! The shining stars of noble blood and education! You stand here before me, and tell me that the only thing keeping you from ascending to the deadly precipice of a Tower is your lack of a permit? You¡¯d have me believe that we need beg permission to cast the simplest cantrip, or invoke the most elementary enchantment?

    ¡°I would!¡± It was director Lane¡¯s booming voice that answered. The man cut a path through the crowd of students, who parted like blades of grass before a bull.

    ¡°Director Lane! I was wondering when you would arrive.¡± Professor Veles¡¯ words dripped with venomous courtesy.

    ¡°Veles, once the fifth bell rings, you need to disperse. Your permit expires.¡± Kimble Lane stood in an island of solitude in the sea of onlookers. In his right hand he was holding a long scroll with the text facing out towards Veles, and his left hand rested on the hilt of his naked sword.

    Veles spoke again loud enough for everyone to hear, ¡°Do you hear this! It is not enough that we march under the oppression, now they dare to put on a time limit on our expression!¡±

    Kimble looked around, and the mood seemed to be against him. Even those who were not in the protest group looked at the authority he represented with distrustful eyes. He straightened his shoulders and commanded, ¡°When the fifth bell rings, disperse! You applied for, and receive a permit to assemble here for the span of the afternoon, but the permit is going to expire, it doesn¡¯t matter if you don¡¯t feel like you got your point across.¡±

    There was a murmur spreading through the crowd that fell away to silence as the sound of the school¡¯s bell could be heard chiming five times. Director Lane had put away the scroll and his right hand now rested on the hilt of his sword. His left was raised the way Demetrius had seen early, as though he was preparing a spell. ¡°Veles, that¡¯s time. You and your lackeys can apply for another permit, but you need to disperse now.¡±

    ¡°And if we refuse?¡± Velese sneered.

    ¡°Try me.¡± Kimble¡¯s hand tightened on his sword hilt. Demetrius felt the tension like a physical force, suddenly he wanted to leave badly. He turned and started to push his way through the crowd, shouldering past people and apologizing. No one seemed to notice him, their eyes were darting between the junior professor on his improvised stage and the director.

    Cyndy had been forgotten in the tension, but she spoke now and startled Demetrius, ¡°Where are you going? You have to see this!¡±

    Demetrius turned around to the sound of her voice, and as he did he saw past her tiny form to Veles. His hands were raised up in a gesture of supplication as if warding of Kimble Lane¡¯s words. ¡°Director Lane, please, you misunderstand me.¡±

    ¡°Oh I understand plenty! I know your type, now get down off that fucking box,¡± and he turned and looked at the group roaring, ¡°And all of you need to leave, now! The show is over!¡±

    Demetrius watched as Veles surreptitiously lowered one of his hands into the pocket of his robe. The moment it entered his pocket, a great white orb crashed into Veles¡¯ chest and knocked him off of the box into the students behind him. Signs were jarred from their hands. People tumbled backward, and then swelled like the tide back towards the now prone form of Professor Veles on the paving stones.

    Kimble tried to push his way through the crowd of students, ¡°Let me through, let me through! He may be injured!¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you done enough?¡± It was a woman¡¯s voice, choking back sobs as she spoke, ¡°He was peacefully demonstrating, and you attacked him!¡±

 Wendel 6

    Wendel sipped from his cup, glancing nervously between Clara and Dr. Mendes.  The doctor was engaged in conversation with someone from the University, ¡°It seems that the investigation in Kentvale is another false alarm.  The trees are infested with a plague of beetles carrying a fungal disease. No magic involved.¡± She paused, listening to a voice only she could hear, and Wendel finished his drink.

    ¡°I do not believe so, the amount of resources required to save the trees would hardly justify the return.¡±  Clara smiled at Dr. Mendes¡¯ words, and Wendel went to take another drink. He stared at the dregs in the bottom of the empty porcelain cup, anxiously turning it this way and that.

    Dr. Mendes returned Clara¡¯s smile, Wendel¡¯s tongue felt cemented to his mouth, he was turning the cup in small circles on the saucer holding it by its rim.  ¡°We shall be moving on immediately, you can send the usual letter to the supplicant if you don¡¯t think I should take the time to track him down and meet with him.  What¡¯s the next destination?¡±

    ¡°So I shall.¡±  She placed both her hands on the table and then said to Clara, ¡°It seems that I shall be leaving for the edge of the great desert.  It does not seem that I have time to head into town before I depart.¡±

    The ancient woman¡¯s creased face broke into a wide grin like the sun rising.  She stood up and began rummaging through her cupboards, pulling boxes and jars of food from the shelves and laying them on the table like an offering on an altar.  Dried fruits, pickled vegetables, hard travel bread, and salted jerky were produced with a flourish. The pile grew and grew.

    Wendel stared at the growing pile of food and then said, ¡°This is very kind of you, but it sure seems like a lot more than we need.¡±

    Dr. Mendes rose from her chair and gathered up all the cups and saucers neatly stacking them atop one another on her left hand and wrist.  ¡°Wendel, do not insult my friend¡¯s generosity with your ignorance.¡±

    The words stung, though she had spoken in a casual tone.  Wendel felt his face flush with warmth. He stood up quickly pushing the chair back with a scraping sound.  Neither of the women said anything, Clara was still emptying her cupboards as if she was being robbed, and Dr. Mendes had made her way into the scullery and was cleaning up the dishes.  Wendel hurried out, brushing past the neat furniture without a glance. The sun warmed his face, and the air felt thick in his lungs. He kept walking across the soft earth until he reached the edge of the yard marked with a fence.

    The fence post felt smooth under his hand, he was leaning awkwardly, trying to look nonchalant.  Tears were welling up in his eyes, and he fought them valiantly, but her words had cut too deeply this time.  Why doesn¡¯t she just tell me to go back to the University if she hates me so much!  Everywhere we go, she gives half our stuff away, and now we find out this woman actually did cause the problem, and we take a bribe!

    Wendel stripped off his travelpack and began rummaging through the dirty clothes and past his spellbooks and his journals.  At the very bottom, sewn into the lining of the bag was a secret pocket, that contained a very thin metal box. He removed this from the bag, and uttered a few words to unlock it.  The box popped open, and inside there were platinum chips, and a few sheets of unbroken gold. I probably have enough to get back to the school.  He thought about what the journey would be like back without Dr. Mendes to guide him.  He wasn¡¯t even sure which way he needed to walk to get to the king¡¯s road from here. There seemed to be no clear path leading to or from the old woman¡¯s cabin.

    Maybe I can apprentice under Fiona. Wendel put his money back in the box and locked it again, then put the box into the pocket of his trousers, or someone else in R and D.  He gathered up his backpack and fixed it on his back again, looking around.  The air here smelled so pleasantly from all the flowers Clara grew on her land.  They¡¯re going to ask me what happened.  He was trying to get his bearings, there were coniferous trees that they passed on their way from the tree farm, but he didn¡¯t see any that looked familiar.   I¡¯ll just tell them that Dr. Mendes dismissed me.  Then they¡¯ll think I failed but-

    His thoughts were cut off abruptly by Dr. Mendes¡¯ voice, she was standing in the doorway of the cabin.  ¡°Wendel!¡± She was not yelling yet her voice carried, and Wendel looked at her from across the yard, ¡°What are you doing!  We need to pack up these supplies, if you needed to relieve yourself, you could have at least excused yourself. You¡¯re being rude to Clara.¡±

    Wendel squared his shoulders, and walked back to where Dr. Mendes was standing, he said, ¡°I don¡¯t care if I¡¯m rude to her, she¡¯s a criminal!  You can¡¯t just let people get away with breaking the law because they¡¯re your friends, or they give you food.¡±

    Dr. Mendes took two quick steps, and then her hand snapped out like a snake.  She caught his chin firmly but gently. She turned his face, so he was meeting her black on black eyes, ¡°What do you suggest I do, Wendel?  Arrest Clara? Or perhaps you¡¯d prefer that I arrest the entire town of Kentvale, because I trust Clara. Did you even listen to what she said about the halflings?¡±

    Wendel was trying to free himself from her grip, but she held him firm and he couldn¡¯t look away from her eyes, ¡°I heard what she said!  And that needs to be reported too!¡±

    ¡°Really?  Reported to whom?  What statute states that halflings have the same rights as humans?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know!  But I know that you can¡¯t just take people¡¯s land!¡±

    ¡°Do you think that Curtis Carter thinks of halflings as people?  Or the University?¡± Her words had an edge to them. She released his chin but still he didn¡¯t look away.

    Wendel was at a loss, and he felt ashamed of his behavior, but he didn¡¯t think he could so easily abandon his indignation without looking even more foolish, ¡°The law states that any sentient creatures have rights, king Hubert instituted a law after the slaughter of the nagas, I remember reading about that in history.¡±

    ¡°King Hubert is dead.¡±  Dr. Mendes sighed heavily and then said, ¡°Wendel, I know that this situation is complex and you think that the law lets us abandon our responsibility to reason, but that is not the purpose of the law.  The purpose of most laws is a means for people with power to oppress those with less. To make sure that people that have continue to acquire. Now, come help me pack up the food that Clara has so generously given us, because I¡¯ve never been to Uriel before and I don¡¯t know what is going to be waiting for us there.  According to the information I received, the entire population is dead, which means we will not be eating anything from anywhere near there.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Wendel followed Dr. Mendes back inside, and together with Clara they filled their packs with food and waterskins.  Clara produced two more sturdy packs, and by the time they were finished packing, Wendel felt as if they had enough food to last for a month or two.  His apology to Clara had been met with a laugh, and all she said was ¡°Makes no nevermind to me when a child throws a tantrum.¡± Wendel felt his face flush again at this.

    Clara hugged Dr. Mendes heartily, and the three of them stood in front of her small cabin, ¡°How¡¯re you traveling?  You¡¯re not going to try and teleport somewhere you¡¯ve never been before are you?¡± Clara and Dr. Mendes laughed at this, though the idea seemed fanciful to Wendel, ¡°That seems beyond even your skill.¡±

    Dr. Mendes produced a long, barbed quill and held it out for Clara to examine.  The old woman took it carefully in her hand, and held it very close to her face, ¡°My word, I didn¡¯t know.  Will I be able to meet them?¡± Clara seemed reverent, returning the quill as if it were something sacred.

    Dr. Mendes held it up to the sun, and looked at it, ¡°I think so, yes.  We¡¯ve already imposed upon your kindness, but if you have a hen you could spare for him, I would appreciate it.¡±  She shook her left hand in the air so that her khaki sleeve slid down her arm slightly, and then she pricked her skin with the quill.  A tiny bead of blood welled up, and Dr. Mendes seemed to be coaxing it onto the quill. Wendel wanted a closer look the at the quill, but so laden as he was with the straps of heavy bags digging into his shoulders, he didn¡¯t think he could get closer surreptitiously.

    Time passed, Dr. Mendes was still staring at the now dried blood on the vicious looking quill, and it was Clara who broke the silence returning with a fat placid hen cradled in her arms, ¡°Will they come with me and the boy here?¡±

    Dr. Mendes looked up, as if drawn out of a trance, ¡°I should say so, yes.¡±

    A shadow fell over the trio, and the air was filled with a powerful musky smell.  Wendel looked up, excited, and saw heavy wings beating on a figure soaring over head.  A griffin!  The creature had a massive wingspan, and though Wendel had never seen a griffin, he knew it must be one.  Another pass, and with it another powerful, and decidedly masculine smell, and he got a better look at the creature.  The wings seemed to have no feathers, leathery powerful wings, that beat the air down in whorls. Dust began kicking up from the recently tilled soil, and the creature got close enough for Wendel to make out its features.  It¡¯s head was like that of a massive jungle cat, with huge fangs that hung over the bottom of its jaw and a ruff of fur around its neck that was like a fire, bright red in the afternoon sun.

    It was not a griffin.  Rear and hind legs were covered in scales, with terrifying spikes sticking out at the joints.  The claws on the front feet were like the claws of a lizard. A deadly lizard. Though the creatures face was like that of a cat, below its mane was an armored, black body of scales and sinew.  Its tail was perhaps the most disturbing feature of all, and Wendel no longer wondered where the quill that Dr. Mendes had used to summon the creature came from. Wendel had not seen anything like it since primary school.  Biology was an elective he had never opted into, and he couldn¡¯t remember what the hideous end of the creature¡¯s tail was called, though he had read its name in a book when he was very young.

    ¡°It¡¯s called a telson.¡±  The creature spoke with a booming voice that seemed to reverberate in Wendel¡¯s sternum.

    ¡°Oh!  Karene, he¡¯s so beautiful.¡±  Clara¡¯s voice was like a child¡¯s, high and girlish.

    ¡°Kevin, I thank you for answering my call, Clara has a gift for you.¡±  Dr. Mendes gestured to the hen the old woman was cradling in her delicate looking hands.

    ¡°I thank you for your kindness, a gift freely given.¡±  Kevin spoke and again Wendel felt the words in his chest.  He noticed that the creature¡¯s mouth did not seem to move when he spoke.

    As Kevin stepped towards Clara, she proffered the hen.  Kevin¡¯s spike covered tail was a hand¡¯s width from Clara¡¯s face.  Wendel felt himself shudder, and as the creature grasped the hen in one massive foreclaw, Wendel turned away.  ¡°I thank you for giving me your life, small bird.¡± Wendel heard a horrible crunching and slurping noise.

    When the sounds of life being extinguished and renewed ended, Wendel turned back to look again.  ¡°You¡¯re a manticore!¡±

    ¡°Very astute observation Wendel.¡±  Dr. Mendes was strapping leather bands to Kevin¡¯s back and around his midsection.  ¡°Well Clara, thank you for the supplies, best of luck to you with the beetle problem.¡±

    Clara stepped across the soft earth to Dr. Mendes and hugged her tight, the doctor returned her embrace with equal affection, ¡°Karene, you take care of yourself, and don¡¯t hesitate to come and see me if you need help with the stookies.¡±

    The doctor smiled and checked the tightness of the straps on Kevin once more, ¡°Is that all right?  Comfortable?¡±

    Kevin¡¯s voice vibrated inside Wendel¡¯s chest again like an invading army, ¡°Quite comfortable, dear one.  I am ready to depart when you are.¡±

    Dr. Mendes gracefully threw herself onto Kevin¡¯s back.  It was a confused moment for Wendel as the manticore¡¯s haunches were easily as high as her chest.  Her movement was practised and fluid, like slipping into a comfortable chair. She called down to Wendel, ¡°Climb on.¡±

    Wendel eyes widened, he couldn¡¯t seem to look away from the vicious tail and it¡¯s telson, wet with what could only be venom.  Dr. Mendes looked expectantly down at him. He placed one hand tentatively on the manticore¡¯s back carefully between the ridgeline of spikes.  The armored scales felt warm beneath his hand. Just like swinging myself up onto a horse.  Wendel tried the jumping leg swing that Dr. Mendes had employed so successfully.  His hand slipped under his own weight, and his palm was laid open on the line of spikes.  Into the soft earth he tumbled, leaving a long line of blood on the manticore¡¯s side. Wendel closed his eyes tightly, and braced for the laughter.  There was none.

    ¡°I could perhaps kneel slightly?  It seems your morsel is a tender one.¡±  The voice boomed from within and he could not shut it out.  There was no laughter and the bass tones were not derisive but Wendel felt his face flush hot once more.

    ¡°Perhaps that would be best.¡±  Dr. Mendes¡¯ voice came from a long way off.  A rough, calloused hand grabbed his uninjured hand and Wendel was pulled to his feet by Clara.  He opened his eyes, and Kevin was kneeling with his front legs bent slightly. Clara was bent over in front of him with her hands linked together in front of her, looking at him expectantly.

    ¡°Come on boy, step up.¡±  Clara sounded nonplussed as if helping someone mount a manticore was the most obvious thing in the world, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me, I¡¯m stronger than I look.¡±

    Wendel¡¯s face couldn¡¯t grow any redder, it clashed violently with his hair, pink on orange, reluctantly he put his hand onto the manticore¡¯s back again, and then stepped into Clara¡¯s clasped hands.  With her help, he was able to lift himself onto the beast¡¯s back and he noticed gratefully that there was a smooth spot free of spikes that stretched from behind the base of his wings to the beginning of the still blood smeared haunch.  Hesitantly he scooched forward slightly into the place devoid of spikes, but not so far as to be touching Dr. Mendes.

    ¡°Wendel, you¡¯re going to need hold onto me, unless you want to fall off.  We¡¯re going to be flying.¡± Dr. Mendes was adjusting the straps she had wrapped around Kevin¡¯s chest, doubling and then tripling coils around her wrists.  Wendel scooched forward slightly and very tentatively put his arms around her midsection. Dr. Mendes sighed, ¡°Tighter, Wendel. I don¡¯t have time right now to find your body.¡±

    Before he could decide if he was going to tighten his grip, powerful shudders wracked his body, and dirt carried up on the wind swept over his face.  Wendel¡¯s grip immediately tightened, his chest pressed against her back. The ground was falling away. Clara was waving up at them, smiling, and her figure was growing smaller and smaller.  Wendel continued looking over the side, the trees grew to be tiny things, and Clara¡¯s cottage looked like a toy house. He was swept up in waves of dizziness. He turned his eyes forward to look at Dr. Mendes¡¯ back.

    <hr>

 Demetrius 6

    Demetrius was in the dean¡¯s office for the second time today, though this time he was sinking into the deep plush chair in front of the dean¡¯s desk. The dean was leaning back in his own chair, his considerable bulk overflowing the sides. His fingers were laced together over the oceanic swell of his blue robe. His voice as he spoke was as high and nasally as ever, though Demetrius felt he was trying to sound reassuring, ¡°Anything I can offer you, m¡¯boy? Eclair? Macaron? Strudel? Cannoli?¡±

    Demetrius shook his head in the negative. His hands were trembling and so he gripped the upholstered arms of the chair in which he was submerged. The dean carried on unperturbed, ¡°Something to drink then perhaps, just to calm your nerves of course. Wine? Brandy? Whiskey? Scotch? Sherry?¡± Again Demetrius shook his head, he was beginning to wish he could flee. The campus security had acted quickly though, and everyone on the scene was rounded up like cattle. They had told Demetrius that the dean had summoned him personally, and had brought him back to the opulent office unresisting.

    Feeling that it would be rude not to accept something, Demetrius said, ¡°Perhaps some tea, sir?¡±

    ¡°Ahh, yes, it is a bit early still isn¡¯t it. Right, just a moment.¡± The dean hurried produced a teapot and a kettle from a beautiful redwood cabinet. He filled the kettle from a tap that was set into the wall near his table of decanters and bottles. He placed the kettle on a flat, round stone, and shortly it began to whistle. The steaming water was poured into the pot, and he returned to his desk with a cup on a saucer and the pot and placed both on the desk he returned to the table of delicate looking bottles and decanters and grabbed one of them. ¡°Just for flavor, of course,¡± he said, pouring an amber liquid into the porcelain teacup.

    Demetrius looked at the amber liquid in the cup and then filled it the rest of the way with the tea from the pot. He sipped at it, and it was indeed a strange flavor, seemed to clear his sinuses, and made him cough. ¡°Not like they serve in the cafeteria, is it sir?¡±

    The dean made a sort of noise that could have been a laugh, and he began emptying his pipe into a small plate before him, ¡°I have some fine cigars, if perchance you¡¯d like to partake? No? No, no of course not.¡± He was using a sharp metal rod to clean the inside of the bowl of his pipe, and then produced a silver tin from inside his desk, and began filling the bowl with a dried, brown, leafy material. ¡°Demetrius, what really happened out there?¡±

    Demetrius began to recall the memory, and did his best to explain how he had just finished cleaning this very office and was making his way back to the men¡¯s dormitory. He told of the argument between Kimble Lane and the junior professor, Veles. ¡°And right before the orb hit him in the chest, I saw him put his hand in his pocket.¡±

    The dean sat, puffing his pipe. He stood and crossed back to the table of crystalline glassware, and filled a goblet that looked like a half sphere. When he spoke, there was a sadness to his voice, ¡°Much as I suspected. Not Lane¡¯s style, that stick up his arse would¡¯ve snapped in half before he cast an unauthorized spell.¡± The dean was pacing back and forth, swilling the drink in his goblet. Demetrius tried to take another drink of his tea, and choked again.

    The dean turned to him suddenly, and said, ¡°Demetrius, I am going to ask you to do something that is terrible in the best of times, and may be life threatening in the trying times we find ourselves living in.¡±

    Demetrius was staring into his teacup and looked up so suddenly that he spilled some of it onto his colorless smock. He said, ¡°Sir?¡±

    ¡°I need you to testify in open court.¡±

    <hr>

    Demetrius was pacing back and forth like a caged rat. Books were toppled, and the mattress upon which he slept was disheveled. His feet tangled in the blankets, and he bent over angrily, and picked them upon and pulled them into a tight ball before throwing them at the corner. Sweat poured from his face, though the room was chill as ever. The only light in the room was a sliver of orange creeping in around the edges of the door.

    Demetrius looked around, and found his ¡®lamp.¡¯ He picked it up, and concentrated, but nothing happened. With a sigh that seemed to sap some of his nervous energy, he set the stone down again, and sought a metal box. It was half concealed under a pile of his borrowed books. Inside he had a store of sulphur matches, candles, and his candle holder. He set up a white candle, and struck the match, warm light filled the small chamber. He shook out the match, and sat on his matress staring at the flame burning atop the candle.

    ¡°I just got done uploading my album of the University!¡± Cyndy¡¯s strange words flitted into Demetrius¡¯ mind, and he was shocked to find that he welcomed the distraction.

    ¡°Beg pardon?¡± Demetrius was exasperated, but it was nice to have someone to talk to, even if nothing she said made any sense.

    Cyndy flew in front of his face, waving the tiny rectangle she always had in her hand in front of his face, ¡°The school! Pics before the fracture!¡±

    Fracture? Demetrius decided to try and bring the conversation back around, ¡°Cyndy, do they have trials where you¡¯re from?¡±

    She was poking at her rectangle and answered offhandedly, ¡°Uh, duh. Big deal trials, about who you can and can¡¯t sell cakes to, that sort of thing. That was a media circus, memes and everything.¡±

    Demetrius decided to try again, ¡°What about when people have to testify against really bad people?¡±

    ¡°Oh, they get put in witness protection. But mostly they¡¯re killed. Cartels and stuff are pretty good at tracking them down.¡±

    Demetrius felt the knot tighten in his stomach, ¡°Witness protection?¡± The dean had told Demetrius that the full force of the Licensing and Regulations department would protect him.

    ¡°Yeah, you know, they take them away, change their names, and they live in hiding until the mob tracks them down and kills them.¡± She buzzed particularly close to Demetrius eye and was waving her rectangle, ¡°Look, I got a pic of Kimble in his cell, he looks a lot skinnier without his armor.¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Demetrius could see nothing but a miniscule glow on the rectangle she was trying to show him, but the words had registered, he exclaimed, ¡°They took away his armor?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he was pissed A. F. Didn¡¯t fight them though.¡± She giggled at this.

    Demetrius had difficulty imagining director Lane without his sword and armor. ¡°The dean says I have to testify, tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow!¡± She sounded excited, ¡°OMG the trial is tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± Demetrius was beginning to think that perhaps she was grasping the gravity of the situation, ¡°And half the school supports Veles, I don¡¯t know what to do, I already told the dean what happened, and I don¡¯t want to lie, but I also don¡¯t want to get killed for telling the truth!¡±

    ¡°Oh Demetrius, you¡¯re not going to get killed.¡± She paused for a moment as if considering, ¡°At the University.¡±

    Demetrius, who had never thought of living anywhere else, felt a wave of relief. If he was safe at the University, he was safe.

    <hr>

    Brilliant light cascaded through the massive windows. They were twice again as high as a man and the bottom was at least that same height from the floor. Demetrius was grateful that he was not responsible for cleaning on this side of the campus. The cold stone he was sitting on was not very comfortable, and he had heard many students complaining about having to listen to lectures in the amphitheater for this very reason. Wouldn¡¯t bother me, it¡¯s glorious. He had never been in this building before, but he had seen it from the outside. Beautiful basalt columns rose in the center of the floor, which was far below where he sat, and judge Gast sat on the highest of these pillars in a magnificent throne wearing stately black robes.

    The pillars may have been made by magic, grown from the ground the way the old stories said the Towers were. They may have been natural. There was very little wood and metal in the room, almost no furniture. It seemed like the entire staff and student body were present to witness this event, and as he looked up and down the swell of bodies on the stone benches, he felt his bowels shake. I can¡¯t do it!

    Below all of the seating, there was a large open area that surrounded the pillars. It was here that Kimble Lane stood, feet shackled together. His hands were chained as well, connected to a heavy looking chain that wrapped around his stomach and was attached to a metal ring in the floor. He was standing in a cage that seemed to be made from very smooth, shiny black stone, with filigrees of silvers catching the colorful light on every bar. He wore simple cloth clothing, the same color as Demetrius¡¯ and his mouth was bound with a strange looking device that allowed him to breath but not to speak. Demetrius had stared at him openly for minutes when he had first noticed him. Kimble was not a kind man. Demetrius had always been afraid of him, but he was not a malicious man, and Demetrius didn¡¯t think he deserved to be treated like this.

    Cyndy had told him that it was traditional. She said that the Tower wizards that were captured were bound a similar way, and kept in the same sort of cages. It was the best thing to do with someone so accomplished in magic that had been deemed a threat to the school.

    ¡°But he¡¯s not a threat!¡± Demetrius had whispered to hear, causing the many people surrounding him to look around.

    ¡°Of course he¡¯s not, but he¡¯s been ¡®deemed¡¯ a threat. That¡¯s practically the same thing.¡±

    After that she had started flying up and down the aisle, near the narrow stone staircase. Dean Stinson himself had elected to represent Kimble, and as such he was on another of the towering basalt pillars, directly below and to the right of judge Gast. Demetrius didn¡¯t recognize the man that stood on the pillar to the judge¡¯s left. He was not wearing robes, rather he was wearing a very sharp grey jacket and slacks. His features were clearly quite attractive even from this distance, with shining white teeth and suntanned skin. His light hair was parted very carefully, and Demetrius felt that he must have seen this person attending school in years past, but could not remember. He recognized the man who was cowering in mock fear on a chair next to him though. Veles had his entire midsection wrapped in bandages, and he kept casting fearful looks at Kimble as though he were afraid the caged man was going to break free and kill him. To his credit, Kimble still managed to maintain an air of dignity in spite of his mortification.

    When the trial had started, the man who was on the pillar with Veles had been given the opportunity to speak first, ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed scholars,¡± he swept his eyes around the massive room as he spoke, the light from the stained glass window behind him making his blonde hair look like it was glowing, ¡°Your honor. I see no reason to belabour the abused here any longer than is necessary. We seek to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Kimble Lane, former director of the Licensing and Regulations department, acted maliciously, using an unlicensed spell on school grounds for the purpose of attacking a fellow member of the staff before a crowd of impressionable witnesses. We will further prove that he did so with the intention of killing Alec Veles!¡± He paused as the crowd collectively gasped. On the opposite side, Dean Stinson appeared to be fiddling with his pipe. Demetrius felt a pang of worry. ¡°By the end of this trial, nay, I say by the end of the day, it will be obvious that Kimble Lane had not only the means and motive, but also a bitter vendetta against professor Veles, a vendetta that was public knowledge, and that he acted in a vicious and hateful manner that was characteristic of a man whose rise to prominence through this hallowed institute of academia, was achieved through bloodshed and fear mongering.¡± The man returned to where he had been standing on the basalt column, and gently patted Veles on the shoulder. Veles flinched as if he¡¯d been struck, and Demetrius heard several in the crowd making sympathetic sounds.

    Dean Stinson stood, and casually put away his pipe. He looked down at director Lane, and then swept the crowd with his eyes, ¡°The founding of this institution was based on the principles of control.¡± With his rotund frame, still draped in deep blue, and his nasally voice, he lacked the charm of Veles¡¯ representative, ¡°The days long since passed, when the Towers robbed this land of all its resources and joy, and stole from the very people who lived in and defended their Towers all dignity and humanity. Those dark days ended, and the dawn of an age of enlightenment began, because of this school and its founders.¡±

    ¡°Dean Stinson,¡± it was judge Gast who interrupted him, ¡°Please, try and keep your opening statement on topic.¡±

    ¡°Your honor, you of all people, understand the importance of remembering our history, you were there after all.¡± It was not an untrue statement, but in his delivery he had achieved a murmur of laughter from the assembled crowd. Demetrius did not laugh, he was looking around, his eyes anxiously scanning up and down the rows of seats.

    ¡°I understand that it has been a while since you lectured, and I remind you that we are here to discuss the alleged attack of Alec Veles by Kimble Lane.¡±

    The dean looked over his shoulder at the judge, and Demetrius thought he saw him wink, ¡°Ahh, but what was the alleged victim engaged in just prior to the attack? Was he not leading a protest against the very foundations of the University!¡±

    ¡°Objection, your honor! Relevance!¡± Veles too seemed somewhat shaken by the Dean''s words.

    ¡°Overruled Mr. Martin I¡¯ll allow it, given the importance of context to your own professed allegations of motives. I would, however, like you to get to the point, Otis.¡±

    The Dean was smiling when he returned his gaze to the crowd, ¡°Yes, your honor. We will hear testimony from a witness today, a completely unbiased witness, who will be able to offer evidence that should provide a reasonable doubt against the conviction of Kimble Lane.¡± Demetrius noticed Martin whispering to Veles, and Veles whispered back. Martin looked around furtively, his eyes continuously darting between Veles and the cage Kimble was held in.

    <hr>

 Wendel 7

    Wendel was surveying the land as they approached Uriel.  The ground looked like a patchwork quilt, and as they landed he could see that the colors were from different bushes and plants scattered across the blinding white surface.  Everything about this place seemed inhospitable, the plants had a spiny look about them, and roaming between the buildings, goats were the only wildlife he could see. They were mostly eating the dead plants, but one was efficiently gnawing at the clothing of the corpses that littered the paths.

    A dry wind swept through the red adobe walls, and Wendel¡¯s face was covered in dust and grit.  They were walking in near silence only broken by an undulating drone that grew louder and softer with the wind.  There was a dusty smell in the air. Dr. Mendes was ahead of him, she had walked past many of the corpses, and not stopped for a closer look.  She seemed to be counting them, as they had circled the village now, and were almost back to where they had landed.

    ¡°Two-hundred and seventy-three lives.  No sign of a struggle, no blood anyway.  It looks like some of them tried to flee, but didn¡¯t get far.  Any thoughts?¡± She was kneeling now, near the body of a man of maybe thirty years who was face down in the loose sand.

    ¡°Disease maybe?¡±  The sun was setting in the distance to the west, and the buildings cast long shadows now, ¡°Some sort of fast acting plague.  The plants around here all look dead too, so maybe it got into the ground as well.¡±

    She looked up at him quizzically from where she kneeled by the body, ¡°The plants aren¡¯t dead.¡±

    Wendel felt rebuked, but only mildly.  The plants certainly looked dead, but perhaps anything that could grow from this heat drenched earth would have to look dead.  The heat radiated from the ground, and everywhere he looked he was blinded. The ground was bright from the afternoon sun, and if he looked into the distance a shimmering haze emanated from the bleached sands.  If he looked up, the sky seemed to be a pale blue and no matter where in the sky he looked the sun bore into his eyes like a hot knife. He was beginning to feel faint.

    ¡°Help me carry him inside one of the buildings so I can do an examination properly.¡±  Wendel was grateful at the mention of indoors, and hurried to help her lift the dead man.  This was, he realized, the first time he had ever touched a dead person, the anatomy classes at the U and the autopsy courses had not been his chosen electives.  The building they carried him into seemed to be a combination shop and house, the walls were almost the same color as the ground outside, and the floor was covered in loose straw.  There was a countertop covered in some textiles and tools, and Dr. Mendes made her way towards it. Unceremoniously she swept everything off the counter with her forearm, and Wendel helped her heft the man onto the table.

    It was still quite bright inside, but the sun was not the overwhelming force it had been outside.  The wind whistled in the doorway, scattering the straw. Dr. Mendes produced her short belt knife and began cutting at the man¡¯s clothing, in a few quick moments she had him completely stripped.  Wendel gaped and the speed with which she had done this. She cast off her travel packs, and began rummaging until she produced an instrument in a careful, small sheath. Making her way over to the body on the countertop, she removed the sheath and began making a incisions in the man¡¯s chest. Wendel had expected blood, but there was almost none.  With the ease of practice, she cut a perfectly symmetrical Y into the dead man¡¯s chest, and pulled back his skin like peeling a gruesome fruit. Wendel looked away, stifling himself from retching.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°Hand me my bone saw and rib cutters.¡±  She commanded, and obediently Wendel turned to her pack.  It seemed to him that there were many more objects to rummage through than could possibly fit inside it, and after a few moments of unsuccessful searching, Dr. Mendes¡¯ shadow loomed over him.  ¡°Wendel, you¡¯ve assisted in an autopsy before?¡±

    ¡°No, I, er, didn¡¯t take those electives.¡±  He stammered as she reached past him and immediately revealed two very vicious looking instruments, a powerful looking set of shears with a rounded tip and a short saw with strange handle made of two holes that looked like would fit a hand and fingers perfectly.

    ¡°Electives!  Basic anatomy and medical examinations are now electives!  I¡¯ve been in the field too long.¡±  She spoke offhandedly, returning to the man flayed on the countertop like so much butchered meat.  With every snap, Wendel knew she was cutting through his ribs, and he wanted desperately to watch but couldn¡¯t find the stomach so he stood off to the side looking at the room.  There was no sign of a struggle, nothing was broken or taken, not that there was much to take. Mostly it seemed to be clothing and simple tools, behind the counter was a decorative hanging mat that partitioned a back room.  Wendel assumed it must be either for storage or perhaps living quarters for the proprietor.

    ¡°Well this is strange, there¡¯s residue on the inside of his lungs.  Looks biological in nature, that explains the lack of a thaum field, I¡¯ll collect a sample for analysis and then.¡±  Her words were cut off by a deafening chiming emanating from inside her pack.

    The sound was high and urgent.  It echoed in the enclosed space and almost immediately Wendel¡¯s head began to hurt.  So loud!  He clasped both his hands over his ears, and watched Dr. Mendes calmly put down her implements of mutilation and casually walk over to her bags.  He mouthed, ¡°What is it?¡± Quite certain she¡¯d be unable to hear his words.

    From inside her bag she produced what looked to be a gemstone attached to a long silver rod.  With a flick of her wrist the sound stopped, and she held the rod in front of her with the stone pointing towards the ceiling.  A map appeared in thin air, brilliantly projected by the crystal, and Wendel recognized at once the continent. There was a blinking red light on the sea to the far east, and there was a steady blue light just west of the mountains on the edge of a voided space.  The Null. With a couple more lazy flicks of her wrist, the map changed and was a much more detailed map of the seaboard. There were strange archaic symbols in a multitude of colors swirling over several red dots on the map. Dr. Mendes moved her hand so the map was almost touching her face, and gasped. With another agitated flick of her wrist, the map disappeared, and she put the rod in the pocket of her khaki trousers.

    She crossed the room back to the open corpse on the countertop, and proceeded to scraped the inside of the man¡¯s lungs with her scalpel and then placed what she removed from the tip of the scalpel into a glass phial that she corked.  Wendel was standing, staring at all this without moving, his ears were still ringing from the horrible chiming. The doctor cleaned her tools and returned them to her bags, which she strapped back onto her back swiftly.

    ¡°We have to go.  Now.¡± She sounded solemn and serious.

 Demetrius 7

    Judge Gast was shouting to be heard over the crowd, ¡°Order! I will have order, or this will become a closed trial!¡± Judge Gast pounded a gavel on a wooden lectern in front of his throne. ¡°Mr. Martin, do you have any witnesses to call or any evidence to present?¡±

    ¡°Yes, your honor, I would like to call to the stand, Professor Fiona Regan.¡± Several people stood up in their seats, and Demetrius was force to stand as well, craning his neck to look up and down the crowded aisles. A mane of unkempt brown hair could be seen moving, several rows down from Demetrius and on the opposite side of the room. She was still wearing the untidy green robes Demetrius had seen her in yesterday, with ink stains on both of the sleeves. She walked with her head held high, and the students moved to get out of her way as quickly as possible. After she descended the staircase and began the climb up to an unoccupied pillar directly in front of and below judge Gast, there was light applause in the audience.

    Judge Gast pounded his gavel on the lectern again, and shouted much louder than was necessary, ¡°Order! Order! One more outburst like that, and I¡¯ll have you lot removed and detained for contempt of court!¡±

    The silence was almost complete when Martin turned to face her across the gap, he said ¡°Can you please state your full name for the court.¡±

    The director of Research and Development said, ¡°Fiona Lynn Regan.¡±

    ¡°And in your own words,¡± Martin continued and Demetrius wondered who else¡¯s words she could possibly use, ¡°can you please tell us of your interaction with Kimble Lane yesterday?¡±

    Professor Regan took a deep breath and shook out her hands, she looked down at director Lane with the purest malice in her gaze, ¡°Director Lane,¡± she paused and placed two fingers on her chin, ¡°Former director Lane, came into my office yesterday and threatened me.¡± There was a collective gasp through the crowd, and Demetrius winced.

    Professor Regan looked uncharacteristically fearful, clinging to her left elbow with her right hand, Martin spoke in a soothing voice, ¡°He can¡¯t hurt you anymore, Fiona, please, continue.¡±

    With a glace down to the cage, Fiona continued, ¡°He said ¡®you¡¯re either with us, or against us,¡¯ and I didn¡¯t know what he was talking about, he shouted at me and insulted me, and then he, he,¡± her voice caught, hitching into a sob.

    ¡°Take your time, Fiona, and remember you are safe here.¡±

    ¡°He summoned an orb of white energy and drew his sword! I think he meant to kill me!¡± She burst into overly hysterical sobbing, and hid her face in her hands.

    The crowd had begun to murmur loudly again, but it was some time before judge Gast called for order, and after the murmuring had stopped, Martin said ¡°That will be enough, Fiona, thank you for being so brave for us today.¡± He returned to Veles who had sat up brightly during the testimony, and was whispering into his ear. Veles looked strangely distant.

    Fiona had turned as if she was going to descend down from the basalt pillar upon which she stood, when dean Stinson cleared his throat loudly and said, ¡°Permission to cross examine the witness, your honor?¡±

    Judge Gast said, ¡°Yes, of course, do not leave the stand yet, Dr. Regan.¡±

    Dean Stinson stood up, and walked a circle in the tiny space at the top of the pillar, before turning to face the witness, ¡°Fiona, may I call you Fiona?¡±

    The sad fearful expression vanished and she sounded affronted, ¡°Certainly not!¡±

    The dean smiled, ¡°My apologies, hard to think of a former student as anything else, I called you Fiona for many years,¡± she seemed to bristle again, ¡°I suppose you¡¯ve earned it though, Dr. Regan. Now, you say that Kimble was in your office yesterday, and that he threatened you?¡±

    She looked over to where Veles and Martin were whispering and then back to dean Stinson, ¡°That is correct.¡±

    ¡°Do you recall what they used to call director Lane?¡± The dean had brought his pipe to his mouth and was chewing the stem idly, and picking at a piece of lint on the front of his robe.

    Martin immediately spoke up, ¡°Objection, your honor. Relevance?¡±

    Judge Gast sounded bored, ¡°Sustained. Otis, are you going somewhere with this?¡±

    ¡°Only trying to establish the witnesses knowledge of the accused.¡± The dean looked down at Kimble Lane, and then back at professor Regan. ¡°Well, I know you know what they used to call him, because I taught all my students. They called him ¡®The Red Wave.¡¯ Do you remember why, Fiona?¡±

    ¡°Objection! Your honor, this is hardly the time for a history lesson on the accused, we already know he¡¯s a man with a violent past.¡±

    ¡°Sustained. Otis, I don¡¯t know where you¡¯re going with this. If you have no further questions of relevance to yesterday, I¡¯m going to let the witness step down.¡±

    The dean smiled and nodded to the judge, and then said to Fiona, ¡°If Kimble Lane, The Red Wave, actually threatened you yesterday, how is it that neither of you left the situation harmed?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± she was looking directly at Veles now, and Demetrius followed her eyes. Veles seemed to nod ever so slightly, ¡°We were interrupted by a witness, and I suppose he was afraid to act on his threats, for fear of winding up in that cage!¡± She gestured wildly with his inkstained hand to the man imprisoned on the floor far below her. Kimble looked up at her, his mouth bound and his expression fierce.

    ¡°So, you say he was afraid to act because of a single witness? And yet he attacked Alec Veles in front of half the school?¡± Fiona was looking desperately at Veles and Martin now, her face had turned bright red. ¡°Now further questions, your honor.¡±

    Judge Gast said, ¡°You may step down, Dr. Regan.¡±

    Fiona looked furious as she descended from the pillar. Her face was glowing and she kept casting hateful glances back up at Veles and Martin. She crossed the room and rather than climbing back to where she had been sitting in the stand, stormed out through the heavy double doors.

    The room was nearly silent. Demetrius was startled out his thoughts by Cyndy¡¯s voice. ¡°Did I miss it?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± He whispered back at her, causing those sitting nearest to him to look at him suspiciously again. ¡°No, they haven¡¯t called me down yet.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± She sounded confused, ¡°Not that!¡±

    ¡°Mr. Martin, do you have another witness you would like to call to the stand?¡± Judge Gast droned.

    Martin inclined his head so his face was very nearly touching Veles¡¯ and Veles whispered something fiercely, ¡°Not at this time, your honor.¡±

    ¡°Very well. Dean Stinson, you have a witness you would like to call to the stand?¡±

    The dean looked out into the crowd, and locked eyes with Demetrius, ¡°Yes, your honor.¡± He waved, and Demetrius felt himself stand up. Those sitting nearest to him refused to move at first, they were crowding him standing up as well, trying to scan the stands for the surprise witness. Demetrius pushed his way through to the staircase, and began a slow walk down. He felt like he could feel every pair of eyes in the room, and he got further and further down the steps, the whispering in the crowd got louder. Cyndy was keeping perfect time with him, flying right next to his face, and he wondered if there was another person in untold number that could see her.

    At the bottom of the stairs, he had to cross the floor directly past the cage that Kimble Lane was being held in. The director looked much older and weaker without his heavy armor. He nodded at Demetrius as Demetrius passed and Demetrius tried to keep his face impassive. It was a ghastly sight to see such a powerful figure stripped and bound. Behind each basalt pillar, there was a very narrow set of stairs. Demetrius climbed to the top of the center pillar, feeling more shaky with each step. By the time he reach the top, he was trembling. He stared up at the judge, afraid to look at the fall awaiting him at the side.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Step to the center please.¡± Judge Gast sounded very sympathetic and smiled down at Demetrius. Demetrius fixed his gaze forward, and took one very timid step towards the center.

    Demetrius saw that the distance between the pillars was incalculably more vast than he had thought watching from the stands. The dean may as well have been in another city, but when he spoke the acoustics carried his high voice, ¡°Can you please state your full name for the court?¡±

    ¡°Demetrius.¡± Said Demetrius.

    ¡°Your full name?¡± The dean sounded slightly amused.

    ¡°Er, that is my full name, sir. Demetrius.¡± Cyndy giggled near his ear and said something that sounded like ¡®share¡¯ and ¡®mud on a.¡¯

    The dean smiled and said, ¡°Very well, Demetrius, can you tell us of the alleged interaction you saw yesterday between Kimble Lane and Alec Veles?¡±

    Demetrius clenched his eyes shut, and imagined himself sitting in the dean¡¯s office, ¡°Yes, sir. I was finished cleaning the administrative building, and I was making my way across the courtyard back towards the men¡¯s dorm. I noticed that the crowd of people was still standing in front of the permit office, and I stopped to listen. Professor Veles was standing on a box and he was shouting about oppression and the military jackboots.¡± He was speaking very quickly, anxious to have all of the words out of him so that he could step down and return to his seat. ¡°I didn¡¯t see any jackboots at the time though, just a few of the campus security officers, and they seemed to be protecting Veles the people that were holding signs. Erm, as it is the FE,AR signs are well and good, but I don¡¯t think it should be written on the walls. It¡¯s a right pain to clean.¡±

    The dean laughed, and said, ¡°Please, Demetrius, try and stay on topic. What happened next.¡±

    ¡°Well, sir, director Lane showed up.¡± Demetrius managed to open his eyes and looked down at Kimble Lane in his terrible black stone cage, ¡°He said that their permit expired, and that they¡¯d have leave and ask for a new one. Professor Veles asked what would happen if they didn¡¯t leave, and director Lane said ¡®try me.¡¯ Then Veles started acting all afraid, but he still didn¡¯t get off the box. He put his hand in his pocket, Professor Veles that is, I think director Lane had his hand on his sword. As soon as professor Veles put his hand in his pocket, he got knocked off the box by a white ball.¡± Demetrius finished hurriedly, and noise erupted in the amphitheater, the crowd seemed to be on their feet.

    ¡°Objection! Your honor, speculation!¡± Demetrius looked over at Veles and Martin, Martin looked irate. Veles was gesturing to him, but Martin was staring at the judge.

    ¡°Overruled.¡± Judge Gast was banging his gavel on the lectern again. ¡°Order, order I say!¡±

    A dark, slender girl wearing blue fifth year robes burst through the double doors that Fiona had left through. She was bleeding from a long cut on her face, and clutching her side, blood was seeping through her robes onto her hands. Demetrius recognized her with mounting horror. Abigail! Several students jumped to their feet and began running down the stairs to help her. Noise erupted again, and judge Gast banged his gavel and called for order.

    ¡°Let her speak!¡± The judge roared, and acoustics carried his voice through the auditorium like thunder.

    Several students were trying at once to support her, her voice was faint and Demetrius couldn¡¯t make out what she was saying. Looks of horror erupted on the faces of the students that were supporting her weight. Demetrius looked around the room, feeling trapped and helpless on his elevated island.

    ¡°Now! It has to be now!¡± It was the syrupy voice of professor Veles, he was on his feet shouting, and as Demetrius looked, Martin threw a strange looking brass ball. It whizzed through the air with a high pitched buzzing sound, trailing a thin cord behind it that stretched back to Martins hand. In the time it took the ball to cross the distance, Martin had attached his end of the cord to the pillar he was standing on.

    The ball crashed into the stained glass window, and rather than bouncing off the thick glass, it seemed to stick to the surface. Spindly legs erupted from the ball, and a horrible screeching noise filled the air. Cracks formed in the beautiful stained glass, and in a rain of bright fragments, the window shattered. The buzzing sound started again, and the brass legs began to spin madly, carrying the ball out into the open air. Veles, and then Martin, jumped from the pillar they were standing on, and flew past the pillar judge Gast was standing on, and they were gone. The cord that had carried them detached itself from the pillar, and shot through the air like an arrow.

    Below, Demetrius could see Kimble Lane raging against the fetters that bounds him. Every muscle in his arms stood out as he struggled against the chains. Demetrius heard the dean call for someone to release Kimble, and heard the judge banging his gaven against the lectern. A stampede had erupted in the stands, as the staff and students tried to get to the exits, or to get to Abigail, who was now pressed under a crush of people. Demetrius watched the chaos erupt from his isolated island above it all, and heard Cyndy say, ¡°One of the extras got trampled when they were shooting this scene in the movie.¡±

    <hr>

    Demetrius was sitting in his room, listening to the sound of yelling. After the attack, staff and students alike began demanding access to weapons and equipment to defend themselves. The dean had managed to get Kimble free, and it hadn¡¯t taken him long to seize control. His office had apparently been raided however, and with it the vast majority of the school¡¯s arsenal. Demetrius was surprised that the rumors of an underground facility in the administration building had been substantiated. The dean had helped Demetrius get out of the courtroom, and then had led him back to his room after explaining what had happened.

    ¡°Whole thing was a snipe hunt. Sorry to put you on the stand like that for nothing m¡¯boy, but don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll get things under control in no time!¡± He had patted Demetrius on the arm and closed the secret panel that led into his tiny bedroom.

    Everything Demetrius had learned since then, he had learned the one time he¡¯d left the now overly crowded men¡¯s dormitory to eat. No one was allowed in or out of the campus grounds now, a full lockdown had taken effect until further notice. This meant that the cafeteria had been almost full when Demetrius had worked his way in to get a popkin from the kitchen staff. The dorm was more full than Demetrius had ever seen it, as all the students who lived off campus were forced to stay there.

    The worst part though, had been how many people wanted to talk to him. Demetrius had been on the stand when it happened, the whole school had seen him. The walk to the cafeteria had been like a gauntlet. Everyone wanted to ask him what he knew, and to ask him to verify what they thought they knew.

    ¡°Is it true they¡¯ve shut down the tele-reception chamber?¡±

    ¡°Is the switchboard really down? I need to contact my family, but they confiscated my ring!¡±

    ¡°Did Veles really fly off on the back of a griffin?¡±

    Demetrius shrugged noncommittally to each of these questions, and forced his way to the kitchens. The cooks were also terrified, none of them lived on campus, and they wanted to know when they¡¯d be able to leave. Luckily, none of them had been at the trial either, so they didn¡¯t think that Demetrius knew anything more than they did. He got his popkin, and decided that he had better stock up. It didn¡¯t seem there was going to be any shortage of food any time soon, the dry and cold storage were stocked to the brim, and Demetrius filled a sack up with fruit, bread, hard cheeses, and cured meats. He made his way back to his room as surreptitiously as possible.

    Now he sat on his bed, trying desperately to think of anything besides the pain he heard in the fearful voices that carried through the walls. He had lit a candle, and was holding his ¡®lamp¡¯ in his hand, willing it to light. It flickered momentarily, and then faded.

    Cyndy appeared near his hand, and looked up at him, ¡°What¡¯re you doing?¡± She asked, looking between him and the stone in his hand.

    ¡°Trying not to think. I don¡¯t know what to do, and I can¡¯t read for all this yelling. I was hoping trying to turn this on would take my mind off things. I¡¯ve turned it on a couple of times, you know.¡± He looked at the stone in his hand, and tried to imagine it glowing again.

    ¡°Oh yes, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve turned it on more than you know, cutie.¡± She flew up from his hand and hovered very near his face, ¡°But what do you mean, you don¡¯t know what to do?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m scared Cyndy! This is my home, and it¡¯s all going crazy!¡±

    She flew really close to his ear, and her voice was slightly faint, ¡°You need to go get Emile.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s Emile?¡± Demetrius was momentarily distracted from his intense concentration, and the stone in his hand burst into light. It was brighter than the flickering candle on the floor, but only slightly. ¡°I did it!¡± He looked down at the stone in time to see it return to its dull, lightless state.

    ¡°Emile! The Queen General!¡± Cyndy¡¯s voice was growing louder with every word, ¡°The Tower Crasher! The Ill Wind!¡± She flew from his ear to back in front of his face, and he noticed for the first time none of her skin was showing, she was dressed in black from head to toe, her yellow hair pulled back tightly behind her head, ¡°She pulls the strings, or cuts them. She¡¯ll set everything straight.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Demetrius said, setting the stone down, ¡°Well, I can¡¯t go get anyone right now, the campus is on lock down. No one can leave.¡±

    Cyndy put her hands on her hips, ¡°Demetrius, you grew up here! You¡¯re telling me that you don¡¯t know a secret way out?¡±

    ¡°I mean, I¡¯m not supposed to leave, and anyway, why should I trust you! I¡¯m still not even sure you¡¯re real!¡±

    She looked hurt by his words, and started to turn her back on him, ¡°Really? After all we¡¯ve been through?¡± She started to fly away from him very slowly, ¡°I¡¯ve never lied to you, you know, but if you¡¯d rather I could just leave.¡± Shrouded in black as she was, she was beginning to vanish into the shadows as she flew farther away from him.

    ¡°Wait, no! Don¡¯t go! I mean, I suppose they¡¯re not going to expect me to keep up on the cleaning with everything that¡¯s going on.¡± He thought of Madam Druce¡¯s words Would it really be that bad for you if they did? What¡¯s the worst thing that can happen?

    Instantly she was right in front of his nose again, ¡°So you¡¯ll do it! She¡¯s not far now!¡± Demetrius looked around his tiny room, lined with borrowed books. Even his clothes technically belonged to the University, nothing in his life actually belonged to him. What have I got to lose?

    <hr>

 Wendel 8

    ¡°What was that about? I don¡¯t understand.¡± Wendel said, surreptitiously glancing back at the man literally laid bare on the countertop of this general store.

    ¡°Unauthorized use of an X-Class or greater enchantment, multiple times on the eastern seaboard. There¡¯s no time to waste, have you teleported before?¡± She clutched his shoulders very firmly, standing directly in front of him, her black on black eyes like augers into his soul.

    ¡°What!? Well, once, you know, mandatory, with a scroll from the courtyard into the tele-reception chamber. One of the scariest events of my life.¡± He shuddered as he spoke. ¡°They do their best to instill fear of it, you know. The whole, dying thing.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well, my options are incredibly limited. I am leaving this instant for the occurence, I can leave you here, but I fear you will die if I do. The choice is yours.¡± She sounded very grave.

    ¡°You have a scroll? That¡¯s written to get us near where it happened?¡± Wendel was wracking his brain, trying to remember the words of lectures from years ago about the ins and outs of teleportation.

    ¡°What? No, don¡¯t be daft. No one would write a scroll for some uncharted bit of beach.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re just going to?¡± Wendel couldn¡¯t even finish the sentence.

    ¡°Correct Wendel, so are you coming with me or staying here? You could slaughter the goats, I¡¯m not sure what you could do for water, didn¡¯t have time to find their spring. Maybe find a wheelbarrow? I don¡¯t have time to give you advice.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go,¡± Wendel was horrified at the idea of trying to ¡®slaughter the goats¡¯ and what would I need a wheelbarrow for?

    ¡°Right, don¡¯t let go of my arm, no matter what.¡± Wendel stepped next to her and gripped her extended forearm tightly.

    Wendel was never a top student in any subject, Thaumatological Linguistics least of all. He understood the Language though, the need for perfect enunciation and understanding of every syllable in every Spell. The litany that Dr. Mendes spoke and the speed that the words flew from her mouth boggled his mind. He recognized maybe one in ten, but she was speaking so quickly there was no way to keep up. He understood the basic principles behind the spell, and he could have possibly made an inanimate object that was in one place he was looking at, suddenly be in another place he was looking at. He had done that before, it was part of an exam. Moving two living beings and all their gear across a continent simply should not have been possible. She spoke without pause for five, then ten minutes. He was beginning to wonder if she was even drawing breath.

    Then there was darkness, and a cold that he had felt only once before in his life when he had flawlessly read the scroll that transported him to the tele-reception center. There were wards and wizards that worked round the clock to correct anyone inbound who may have misspoke, but still there were casualties.

    The cold vanished, and he smelled the salty tang of the sea. It was sweeter here than the sea smelled in Two Lanes. He realized his eyes had been firmly closed, and slowly he opened them. Darkness was falling here, though it had still been early afternoon where they had been moments ago. The doctor was already walking towards the water purposefully. Wendel took a cautious step, and then broke into a light jog to catch up with her.

    ¡°That was incredible! You¡¯re amazing!¡± He exclaimed, slowing to a fast walk to match her pace.

    ¡°Never, under any circumstances, are you to attempt that.¡± She spoke with such a grave tone that Wendel stopped himself from laughing by biting his lip. They covered the ground quickly, and closing the distance to the water. The closer they got to the water, the rougher the going became, massive boulders obstructed his path. Bodies and debris were strewn up and down the coastline. Massive pieces of wood that looked burned in many places, and corpses that were a direct contrast to those in Uriel. These people had died hard from the looks of things, some were burned to a blackened skeleton. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Wendel slipped on some seaweed and fell hard. His already injured hand came down on a knife-like edge, and in the fading light he could see he had cut it on a mussel that was firmly attached to the rock he had grazed. The salt mingled with his blood and it burned excruciatingly, momentarily driving all thought from his mind. The doctor seemed to have disappeared as he got to his now sand covered knees.

    He looked up and down the coast, and finally saw her. She was kneeling near one of the bodies that looked as though it had not been burned. As he got closer, he could see that she had mirror in her hand, and was holding it up to the victims mouth. He trudged through the grainy soil cautiously, neither wanting to interrupt her or to be too distant in case whatever had done this was still nearby.

    ¡°He¡¯s breathing, ever so faintly. Seems to be completely paralyzed though, no telling how he didn¡¯t drown. Some are just lucky that way.¡± She spoke absentmindedly, as if to herself.

    ¡°Can you save him?¡± Wendel was curious to see if these circumstances would finally warrant the use of healing magic.

    ¡°You might be able to, can you cast a healing bloom?¡± Dr. Mendes sounded tired for the first time in his travels with her, and this more than the mangled corpses strewn up and down the coast in the setting sun set Wendel nerves on edge.

    Wendel thought of his spellbook in his pack. He certainly didn¡¯t have the incantation memorized, but he was sure that he could recite it flawlessly from his book. He had received top marks on that very spell. Finally, she¡¯ll get to see that I can be useful. Feeling bolstered by this thought, Wendel dug out his book and flipped to the page. He began speaking the words, willing his mind to believe that this man would be healed, that all of his pain and suffering would vanish, he envisioned springtime in his mind as he said the words. He thought of flowers bursting from the snow, of flowers bursting in the fresh spring sunshine. The towering white pillar of energy he was summoning from his hands began to take the shape of flowers. Of every flower Wendel could imagine, and he finished speaking the words, the beam of light descended on the man¡¯s chest.

    Wendel felt tired, exhausted really. It was not an easy spell to cast, but he felt he had gotten it perfect. The effect should have been instantaneous. Wendel¡¯s hands found his knees, and he looked up from his almost bent double position at the man on the ground. By all accounts, the man she be moving. He was not.

    ¡°That was impressive work, Wendel.¡± The doctor held her mirror under the man¡¯s nose again, ¡°Well his breath is coming a little more steadily, that¡¯s something. We¡¯ll have to get a medical team up here though, we can build a structure for the survivors, and in a half hour I should be able to ward it so they¡¯ll be safe from wildlife until reinforcements get here.¡± Even as she spoke it seemed like her strength was returning to her, ¡°I¡¯ll ring the U right now, and let them know what¡¯s going on.¡± She raised her left hand, and Wendel knew she was opening the channel to the University switchboard. ¡°Strange.¡±

    Wendel looked at the perplexed expression on her face with mounting worry. He had been expecting her to start speaking to someone at the U. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°No one¡¯s answering, going to try a couple of the admin rings, it¡¯s late but they might still have them on. The dean might anyway.¡± She raised her hand again, and her brow furrowed. ¡°This might be serious. Still, we have to take care of these people first, the U can take care of itself.¡±

    The doctor stood, more slowly than Wendel would have preferred, but she seemed to be gaining her strength back much faster than he was. The spell he had cast was A-Class. He wasn¡¯t even sure that there was a rank for the teleportation she had cast, and come to that, he was quite positive she didn¡¯t possess a permit to cast something like that.

    Before he could ask her about that however, the doctor had dropped into a crouch with catlike speed, and she gestured at him with her hands. He followed suit dropping down into a crouch, his heart fluttering in his chest like a caged bird. From the water, a hunched figure had emerged, and appeared to be dragging a body behind it. It was heading directly for them.

    The doctor called out, ¡°Declare yourself before you approach!¡±

    ¡°Me nem es Gobnait O¡¯Clary! Cap¡¯n o¡¯ the Duress¡± The voice had a strange clipped sound to it, but there was not even a hint of fear, Wendel heard her name as ¡®gub-net¡¯, ¡°Yeh lot gen¡¯a stan¡¯ there wit¡¯ yeh fums in yeh arses or yeh genna ¡®elp me save whets lef¡¯eh¡¯ me crew?¡±

    Even in the fading light, Wendel could see the doctor smile.

 Demetrius 8

    ¡°And you¡¯re sure this is the correct way?¡± Demetrius was slogging through waist deep water. His smock had wicked it up to his shoulders, and it clung to his skin like a slimy second skin. The ground beneath his feet, beneath the water, sucked at his feet. Things that he hoped were submerged branches kept rubbing against his legs in the murky, putrid smelling water.

    Cyndy was still wearing all black, when Demetrius had asked her about it, she said something about a ¡®tactical turtleneck.¡¯ He had not inquired further, saving all of his breath to ask her repeatedly how much further they needed to go through the swamp to get to the Queen General. Cyndy had assured him that if they kept traveling north they would come across her in no time at all.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that I think you¡¯re deliberately misleading me,¡± Demetrius tried again, trying carefully to avoid offending her sudden sensitivities, ¡°it¡¯s just that I am wondering if maybe you have the wrong date or something?¡±

    ¡°I told you!¡± She spun around to face him, the rectangle in her hand emitting a tiny blue light in the darkness, ¡°She¡¯s just north of here! We just have to keep going!¡± She flew ahead a little faster as if to prove the point.

    Demetrius sighed and pushed on through the water. Leaving the University had been easier than he expected. The entrances were all barred with magic, but the underground sewage system had not been sealed, for obvious reasons. Beneath a hatch, Demetrius had been able to creep along a maintenance ledge that he had discovered while exploring in his youth. He had never followed it all the way out of the University, but he knew that the narrow ledge must follow the stream of human waste and water out of the campus grounds. It let out on the south side of the campus, into the sea. A grate had barred the way, but when Demetrius had tried to open it, it broke and fell off its rusted hinges.

    Cyndy said that they had to skirt Two Lanes and the campus completely, so it had taken several hours of trudging through rough terrain just to get to the northern side of the campus. Once they were there, Cyndy had said it was north by north east, and had led the way. Demetrius was almost grateful for the darkness as they made their way through the swamp, he was certain that there was danger lurking around every corner.

    The sun was breaking through the hanging branches on Demetrius¡¯ right, and the shape of the murky swamp was coming into sharp focus. The water no longer felt cold on his body, just heavy. He pushed forward, one step at a time, his eyes focused on the surface of the water just in front of him, desperately trying to stay motivated. He heard Cyndy let out a shriek, and found a renewed burst of speed. He looked up, trying to find her tiny floating form, not much bigger than the dragonflies that were dancing along the surface of the water, their wings buzzing loudly in the stillness of the early morning.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Above the surface of the swamp he saw a monster. Green, batlike leathery wings beat against the air, throwing down ripples on the water.She can¡¯t be hurt, she just can¡¯t, why¡¯s she screaming? Demetrius forced himself to move forward, to look at the beast barreling down on him. Closer he could see it was not anywhere as big as he had first thought. Its wings were spindly things, emerald green and iridescent in the weak morning light. Stranger still, it seemed to be pulling a child in its wake, or maybe it was a halfling soldier. Cyndy was above him now, she had stopped moving and was floating directly in front of him.

    ¡°Demetrius, that¡¯s her! Emile and the dragon Gypsum! The Ill Wind!¡± She squealed, her voice even higher than normal.

    ¡°But she¡¯s so small! Is she a halfling?¡± The childlike figure being pulled by the ¡®dragon¡¯ appeared to be standing on air. Her head was covered in a strange metal hood, and her clothes were caked with mud. She was slumped over resting her chin on her chest, and there was no logic to the manner by which the pair were propelled through the air, the dragon was simply too small to hold the weight of both of them with its wings. Her boots skimmed along the surface of the water. Demetrius stood slack jawed and watched her slide through the air towards him like a specter.

    ¡°No, she¡¯s not a halfling! She¡¯s just young.¡± Cyndy was flying around Demetrius¡¯ head, turning somersaults in the air.

    The girl and the dragon were almost upon him now, and he could see that she was very young. The dragon looked young too, not much larger than a medium sized dog, with smooth shiny green skin. The dragon locked it¡¯s jade eyes with Demetrius¡¯ and the girl¡¯s head snapped up immediately. She stared at Demetrius and called out very clearly in a silky voice, ¡°You don¡¯t want to hurt us!¡±

    ¡°Er, no,¡± Demetrius was taken aback by the tone of command in the girl¡¯s voice, but felt mostly sympathy for her. Her skin was sunburned deep red, and there was mud and blood splattered on her face. Her hair might have been red at one point, but what little of it he could see sticking out of the metal hood seemed to be caked with mud and moss. Sticks stuck out this way and that as if birds were building nests. Her clothes were ripped in places, and there were cuts on her forearms and face. ¡°No, I came to get you.¡±

    Suspicion crept across the girls face. Both girl and dragon rose slowly higher into the air, above the water, although the dragon¡¯s wings were still and pressed defensively against it¡¯s back. From her rising vantage she called down, ¡°Who are you? Where did you come from?¡± She looked exhausted and dangerous, like a cornered animal.

    Demetrius said simply, ¡°Oh, I work at the University.¡±

    The doubt evaporated from her face, ¡°Well it¡¯s about time!¡±

 Wendel 9

    <hr>

    Wendel sat behind Dr. Mendes, hands clutched around her waist, watching as the hanging branches of the trees speed past. They were atop a creature that put Wendel in the mind of a giant spider, its eight legs stretched out in every direction around them. Powerful kicks propelled them across the top of the murky water at breakneck speeds. She had called the creature a water skimmer, and had summoned it as soon as they reached the edge of the swamp. Unlike the manticore Kevin, it did not speak, and Wendel wasn¡¯t sure how Dr. Mendes was communicating with it.

    It had taken the better part of the night to gather the survivors from the shipwreck. Wendel had not been able to understand much that captain O¡¯Clary had said. He did understand pirates, but it seemed like the captain was saying that a little girl and a lizard had been responsible for the vast majority of the damage. Dr. Mendes had cast a very complex protective ward around the immobilized survivors, and promised to send help as soon as possible.

    They traveled over increasingly wetter terrain until they reached the murky, shallows of the swamp. Wendel had been to this swamp on several outings, led by Madam Druce, to gather ingredients, but he¡¯d never been this far north of the school. Dr. Mendes had stopped at the edge of the water, and waited. Wendel stood next to her, thinking perhaps that she was gathering her wits or simply resting. They had not waited very long when the water skimmer had swam into focus.

    It¡¯s body was spherical and black, with a tiny protrusion for a head. Many faceted eyes regarded Wendel coldly, as it crept across the surface of the water right up to where Dr. Mendes was standing. She stepped into the water, and placed her hands on the beast''s back, throwing herself up onto its spherical body as comfortably as if the creature were a horse. ¡°Come along Wendel, we need to hurry.¡± Wendel clambered onto the creatures back with Dr. Mendes¡¯ help, disgusted by the hardness of the creatures exoskeleton.

    By late afternoon they had managed to cross the swamps and left the creature. Dr. Mendes mentioned it no further, and in the light of everything, Wendel just couldn¡¯t find the energy to inquire. Two Lanes was more like home to Wendel than anywhere else, and as they walked towards the outskirts of the coastal city, he felt his heart swell. The story and a half cottages of wood, with their steeply pitched roofs and intricate pillars swam into focus. The people that lived on the outskirts of the city were not wealthy by Two Lanes standards, but the University increased the average standard of living for everyone. Ordinarily, the people were friendly here, waving and smiling at any who passed, but as they walked closer and closer to the city proper, Wendel was disturbed by absence of anyone.

    ¡°Where is everyone?¡± Wendel asked, speaking mostly to himself.

    ¡°I think we shall find out when we reach the University.¡± Dr. Mendes strode purposefully forward, kicking up the loose gravel as she went.

    There was no wall surrounding the city, and the streets were wide and paved with a heavy layer of loose gravel. The city had been built below sea level, surrounded by swamps. Every patch of ground that wasn¡¯t covered with gravel or paving stones was muddy, and the gravel crunching under Wendel¡¯s feet felt like home. They walked down the main street, what many people called ¡®Second Lane,¡¯ the first of course being the sea shipping lane. In the distance, towering above the rest of the city, the University could be seen.

    The deserted streets became more conspicuous as they came closer to the school grounds. It was midafternoon, students and staff should have been coming and going, deliveries should have been being made. The campus was a massive complex of buildings and required immense amounts of effort to maintain. The street leading into the arched entrance was completely empty, and Wendel could see no one beyond the white arch itself.

    Wendel felt the ward as they reached the arch, and Dr. Mendes was stopped as she attempted to walk beneath the ivory arches. ¡°Really?¡± She said, pausing momentarily staring up at the white arch for a moment. She uttered a quick spell, and then walked under the arch shrugging. Wendel followed her, the ward he had felt vanishing with her last syllable.

    In spite of the fear Wendel felt at the lack of students and staff scurrying across the manicured grounds of the courtyard, Wendel was grateful to be back. The University looked the same as it had for all the years he¡¯d lived here. It had been a span of months since he had left. The air smelled like home, the tang of the sea mingling with the grass and flowers of the plaza. Dr. Mendes was walking purposefully ahead, directly towards the squat, grey administration building. Wendel had to hurry to catch up, his eyes lingering on the double doors of the cafeteria and his stomach rumbling.

    She took the steps two at a time, and rushed through the heavy door so fast that they banged loudly on the grey stone walls. Wendel was almost jogging to keep up with her, her pace renewing his sense of fear. His heart was pounding in his chest loudly. She rushed through the hall, past many closed doors until finally, she reached the office of the dean. His door was wide open, and a large group of people were crammed into the opulent room.

    Wendel had been in the dean¡¯s room only twice before. Once for career advice, and the second time when he was petitioning to apprentice under Dr. Mendes. That was a week before he had set out from the University, several months and what felt like a lifetime before. The dean was sitting behind his beautiful desk, which was piled high with plates of sumptuous looking foods. Several members of the upper echelon of the school¡¯s staff were standing around the room. The two cushioned chairs in front of his desk were occupied. The serving boy Wendel recognized. He was wearing a shabby looking grey smock that seemed to be covered in mud, and he looked very out of place amongst the finery of the dean¡¯s office.

    The other chair was occupied by a tiny little girl. She was also covered in mud, and at her feet, curled around her legs was a massive green lizard, easily as big as a dog. The girl had a strange metal hood looking cloth draped around her shoulders and neck, that seemed to reach halfway down her back. Her hair was a mess of twigs and moss, but she seemed unperturbed, eating a slice of meat as big as her head from a plate she balanced on her lap.

    Wend looked to Dr. Mendes, but the doctor seemed just as confused as he was. Two heads of departments and the headmistress stood around the room, and they all seemed surprised to see Dr. Mendes. Kimble Lane was leaning against a wall in his heavy black armor, his eyes darting to and fro. The headmistress was standing next to the girl, her hand resting on the chair back, and Madame Druce the ancient director of the Alchemy department was leaning on the dean¡¯s desk.

    The dean half rose from his lavish chair, his bulk jiggling, ¡°Doctor Mendes! We are so pleased to see you!¡±

    Dr. Mendes had frozen in the threshold, blocking Wendel from entering the room. She walked forward seeming stupefied. Her mouth worked, but no words seems to be forming, and Wendel was off put by her lack of control. She took two more tentative steps into the room, and Wendel hurried in behind her.

    The dean sat himself back down, but gestured with his arms, beaming, ¡°And your apprentice! Wendel, I¡¯m so pleased to see you alive and well! Knew you had what it took to be a field agent.¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Dr. Mendes took another step, stood close to the headmistress, staring down at the girl in the chair, who was still eating as if she was starved. ¡°Otis, this girl! She has X-Class enchantments on her! What¡¯s going on!¡±

    The dean smiled again, directing his happy gaze at the girl in the chair, ¡°Oh! This is Emile Neuwirth! Demetrius here brought her in! Apparently she had been crossing the swamp on her own!¡±

    The serving boy craned his neck to look over his shoulder at Dr. Mendes, his olive complexion had an almost green pallor to it. His long black hair hung around his face like slimy curtains. There was mud on his face, and he seemed very nervous to Wendel. He ventured a half smile.

    Dr. Mendes turned to the headmistress, ¡°Melinda! What¡¯s going on! Why is this girl sitting here? No one is manning the switchboard, and I¡¯ve been trying to ring you all personally! Has there been an attack?¡±

    The headmistress turned her gaze from the little girl to Dr. Mendes and said, ¡°Well, there was an attack. We were all distracted by the trial, and they seized part of the armory.¡±

    ¡°What! Kimble, how could that happen!¡± Dr. Mendes screamed the words, turning to face Kimble Lane.

    It was director Lane who explained everything in his sonorous voice. Apparently he had been arrested, which Wendel had trouble understanding at first. There had been protests being staged, and the school had split into factions, with one of the factions demanding the abolishment of the regulations and permits. Wendel¡¯s mind reeled as he listened to the bear of a man explaining his trial and how it had been a distraction so that the thaumatists could seize the armory it was his duty to protect. They were using the word thaumatist easily now, in the present tense.

    Wendel felt his skin crawl every time they said it, and finally interrupted, ¡°But how can there be thaumatists?¡±

    All eyes in the room except for Emile¡¯s turned to look at him, it was the dean that answered in his rhinal voice, ¡°Wendel, there are always people who want power, and those who have some usually want more.¡±

    Dr. Mendes said, ¡°So they seized the armory and left, you put the school on lockdown, that still doesn¡¯t explain this child, or why she¡¯s sitting here, eating, wearing X-Class enchantments!¡±

    The dean said, ¡°Well, she was hungry, it only seemed appropriate to feed her. She¡¯s had a hard journey.¡±

    ¡°I bet she has! She¡¯s left a wake of destruction,¡± she turned to director Lane, ¡°or haven¡¯t the sensors alerted you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been a little bit indisposed, what with being wrongfully imprisoned and all!¡± He roared.

    Dr. Mendes was looking from face to face, as if trying to decide who to direct her fury at, finally she settled on headmistress Atbiss, ¡°Melinda, why hasn¡¯t this child been stripped of these weapons?¡±

    The headmistress said calmly, ¡°Well, she said they were her birthright, didn¡¯t seem right to take them.¡±

    The girl still had not spoken. She had finished the plate of meat and moved on to a large puff pastry that was easily the size of her head. She was eating noisily, and Wendel felt his legs shaking. He wished there was somewhere he could sit down, and decided given the strange atmosphere, no one would notice if he sat down on the floor. His legs practically collapsed and folded up under him. The lizard wrapped around the girls legs opened one lazy eye, and stared at Wendel. He felt oddly appraised.

    ¡°Madam Druce!¡± Dr. Mendes was beginning to sound desperate, ¡°What is going on!¡±

    The ancient woman regarded Dr. Mendes kindly, ¡°Karene, we¡¯ve talked about this before, the students that left with Veles have been taken in by promises of power and easy riches. We¡¯ve both always known that Fiona was a problem, but I never thought-¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant! Why have none of you taken these weapons from this girl! I followed a thaum field a days journey, she¡¯s carrying weapons of mass destruction, and yet here she sits eating pastries!¡±

    ¡°Yes, I think Otis is spoiling her a bit, but you know how he appreciates the sumptuous things in life, I tried to press some fruit on her,¡± the old woman gestured to an untouched pile of various fruits and vegetables.

    Dr. Mendes turned around, a complete circle. Then she turned around again, very slowly, as if taking in every detail of the room. Finally, her eyes fell, and rested on Wendel, who was leaning back against the wall, staring back at the massive lizard who had not blinked since it had started looking at him. Her mouth worked wordlessly for a moment, and then she closed her eyes. She took several long deep breaths, opened her eyes, and nodded.

    ¡°Right, I¡¯ll do it myself. Emile?¡± She turned to the girl in the chair, ¡°It¡¯s Emile, right?¡±

    The girl swallowed a mouthful of pastry and said, ¡°Yes ma¡¯am, and you¡¯re Doctor Mendes.¡±

    Dr. Mendes smiled, ¡°That¡¯s right, I¡¯m Doctor Mendes. Emile, where did you get those rings you¡¯re wearing?¡±

    ¡°They are my birthright.¡± The girl said this as if it answered everything.

    Dr. Mendes spoke very calmly, smiling, ¡°Well, Emile, those rings you are wearing are very dangerous. They¡¯re both X-Class enchantments, and you have to have a permit to carry enchantments of any sort. Including that necklace, the mail coif, and whatever those other two things you have are. You are going to need to give them to me.¡±

    The girl¡¯s voice changed when she answered, ¡°You don¡¯t want to take them, they¡¯re my birthright.¡± Wendel couldn¡¯t help it, he felt like the girl was right. Very obviously.

    Dr. Mendes stammered her words, ¡°I, you. Wait.¡± She seemed to be straining to speak and finally got the rest of the words out in one ¡°I need you to give me the rings, the necklace, and everything else!¡±

    The girl took another bite of her pastry, and then said, ¡°You don¡¯t need me to give them to you, you have much more important things to worry about, the first being helping my pa.¡± It suddenly seemed very important to Wendel to help the girl¡¯s father.

    Dr. Mendes seemed to pause for a very long time before finally saying, ¡°What does your pa need help with?¡±

    Emile began to explain everything that had happened with her father and the little dragon, Gypsum. She made it very clear that Gypsum was not to blame, and Wendel agreed. Clearly the dragon was not to blame, just a mistake. Dr. Mendes seemed to be hanging on every word.

    ¡°She¡¯s Leaning on us!¡± Dr. Mendes exclaimed to the room as soon as the girl had stopped speaking. Immediately she burst into the fastest litany of spellcasting that Wendel had ever heard. The words seemed to flash out of her mouth like lightning racing across the sky.

    The girl spoke up instantly and said, ¡°Stop!¡± Her voice was like a whip on his face, and though Wendel had been doing nothing, he felt the overwhelming urge to stop. Dr. Mendes managed to force out another word of the spell before the girl said, ¡°You don¡¯t want to do that! You won¡¯t be able to hear me, and it¡¯s very important that you listen to me!¡±

    The doctor stood stock still, seeming to be struggling with an inner conflict, ¡°Where did you study magic? How could you know what the spell was going to do?¡± It sounded like every word caused her a great strain.

    When the girl spoke again, it was in the voice of a child, ¡°It just seemed obvious, you were trying to make it so no one could hear me! That¡¯s not very polite, I¡¯m a guest here. I came here to find a wizard to help my pa!¡±

    There was a pregnant silence, and finally it was broken by the serving boy, ¡°She needs your help, and you need hers! Everyone was running around and yelling at each other before she got here!¡±

    Wendel regarded the boy, who he realized probably wasn¡¯t much younger than himself. Everyone in the room looked shamefaced except for Dr. Mendes who seemed like she was struggling under a great weight, her shoulders slouched. It was Madam Druce who said, ¡°I¡¯ve already analyzed a sample of the dragon¡¯s neurotoxin, but I don¡¯t know how long it will take to synthesize an antidote.¡±

    Dr. Mendes turned to her and said, ¡°You¡¯ve analyzed a sample? We need to get to your lab, I think there¡¯s a connection with what happened in Uriel.¡±

 Zero (Interlude)

    Zero stared at the goat¡¯s haunch.  He had done his best. It was browned on the outside, but there was really no way he could be sure, as he could not taste it.  He thought back through the ever fading memories of his other life, and realized that he had never eaten goat. It¡¯s got to be better than snake.  Or the rats. He picked up the plate with the leg of goat and tubers, and carried it from the makeshift kitchen into the room where Audene spent most of her time.

    ¡°Mistress.¡±  Zero bowed ever so slightly, and she looked up from the metal desk, her black on black eyes capturing and destroying the light.

    ¡°Zero?¡±  She spoke without looking at him, her eyes returning to the papers on her desk. The darkness was nearly complete, the only light coming from the small cookfire in the next room, but Zero knew that Audene could see.  Audene could see everything. Zero¡¯s gaze fell on the silver rod she was absentmindedly twirling in her fingers, and he took an involuntary step back.

    ¡°I have prepared a meal,¡±  it had been years, and still the tin sound of his voice sounded foreign when he heard it, ¡°of sorts.¡±

    ¡°I see, and did you bring me any good news?  Or am I to sustain myself on your foul cooking alone!¡±  Her voice rose with every word, and she punctuated her outburst by striking the rod in her hand against the desk.  In that moment it was as though Zero was the rod.  It was an agony of sorts, but it paled in comparison to his revulsion at disappointing Audene.

    Weakness gripped him, but he did not bend to it, refusing to drop the plate he was holding.  ¡°Audene,¡± he struggled to speak, ¡°please.¡±

    She stood from the desk, and sauntered across the room through the darkness.  Standing directly in front of him, she gently lifted the plate from his trembling copper hands, and sniffed it.  ¡°I am hungry, Zero.¡± She sighed and turned, taking a step towards her desk and placing the plate on the edge, next to the disheveled papers.

    Zero sighed relief inwardly, though no breath would ever fill him again, ¡°Yes, you need to keep your strength.¡±

    Her back to him, she spoke very softly, ¡°I am hungry.  I hunger for my revenge. I hunger for the blood of those that persecuted my people for centuries.¡±  She struck the silver rod against the plate, shattering it in the process and sending fragments of meat flying into the darkness.  Again and again she struck the rod against the desk, and the vibration wracked Zero¡¯s body, cut through him and forced him to the floor.

    She stopped.  There was an enduring echo of the sensation, but she had stopped.  If only I could give her what she wanted!  Zero¡¯s mind raced backwards through the muddy stream of his memories, and fell upon a cold night when she still called him Clive and they had shared a tent the eve before their last battle.

    ¡°Audene, who are you?  Really?¡± Clive lay on his side, his body pressed against hers beneath the blanket.  A dim glow radiated from a stone somewhere near their feet.

    She smiled at him coquettishly, and he swam in her black on black eyes, ¡°I¡¯m Audene! Audene Mendez.  Your commanding officer!¡±

    ¡°You know what I mean!  Who are you, and where did you come from?  The things you can do, the way you move on the battlefield.  No one moves like you. No one Spells like you.¡±  He paused and then added, ¡°Well, except for your sister, if the rumors are to be believed.¡±  his voice trailed off to a near whisper, ¡°You can¡¯t be from here, but where else is there?¡±

    She rolled over on top of him, straddling him, and started kissing his neck, ¡°Clive, why do you spoil this moment by asking such things?¡±

    There was fear in what he was about to say, but every day they laid siege to towers, there was fear.  Every day might be their last, and so he said it, ¡°I love you, Audene, and I want to know who you really are.¡±

    She looked surprised for a moment, and then at last she said, ¡°If you would love me, if you would follow me, I must have your eternal loyalty.¡±

    ¡°You have it, always!¡±

    ¡°Well, you might think that, but before I can trust you with any of my secrets, there is a ritual to insure it.¡±

    Zero stared into the darkness, the glow from the cookfire outlining the door that seemed to be turned on its side.

    She commanded, ¡°Get up.¡± Zero forced himself to kneeling, and then standing again.  There was no damage, there was never any damage aside from the trauma. ¡°Send in one of the less stupid ones to clean this up, and go check on the hatchlings.  We must strike quickly before she finds out, we need to bolster our forces.¡±

    Zero bowed, and exited the room, leaving her in the darkness.  He made his way down through the dark hall. This deep in the desert, it was unlikely that any would stumble upon these ruins, but no chances were taken.  The only light was the flickering cook fire, and that which filtered in through the windows on the exterior walls. The walls of this place were made of some sort of smooth stone that seemed to resist the erosion of time.  Through the halls, and then down the ramp into the bowels of the building, into the cells.

    Zero opened one of the doors, and removed the silver rod from the clip on his belt.  He stared at the pathetic creature on the other side of the door for a moment, the humanless soul trapped in a metal husk, and ever so gently he tapped the silver rod against the floor.

    ¡°Suss, go clean the mistress¡¯ room.¡±  He stared at her unblinking, through eyes that were golden glowing orbs.

    She stared back at him, through a face that was the mirror to his except her¡¯s was unmarred and clean.  Zero was proud of every stain and blemish he had won in battle and through work. Audene had offered to replace the damaged copper plating with clean, new pieces, but he refused her.  Every mark was proof that though he no longer lived, he still existed.

    ¡°Clean?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Yes, Suss, clean,¡±  he struck the rod against the doorframe a little firmer this time and watched her shudder.  There was no pleasure in what he was doing, it simply needed to be done. ¡°You understand?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡±  her voice was exactly the same as his own, they all were.  Hearing them speak in the rattling tin voice that was his, robbed him of his individuality, but there was no more sorrow or fear.  Audene had explained it to him when he asked, she said that the removal of the endocrine system allowed for clear thinking. Thinking like hers.

    ¡°I will clean.¡±  The one called Suss said, and started to push past him.

    ¡°Suss, do not upset her, she is not in a patient mood.¡±  Zero didn¡¯t know why he was warning her, ¡°and remember that you are Number Seventeen.¡±

    She bowed slightly, and began making her way past him again.  Zero watched her go, and when she disappeared at the top of the ramp, he made his way down through the long hall, doors on either side of him.  The doors were weak, rotten wood that he could have easily punched through with his hands. Any of the other subjects could have done the same, but they would not.  Those with stronger spirits that he had captured in Uriel felt the rod, and just to be sure he had made sure that all of them had felt the rod when any one defied him.  It was better to be safe.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    At the end of the hall, two of them stood by a door that was not weak wood.  It was a fierce looking thing, made of wrought iron. On either side of the door were the two strongest.  Number Forty-Five and Fifty-Three. What were their names?  They stood stock still as he approached, staring at him through unblinking eyes that glowed like stars in the dark hall.  Zero tightened his grip on the rod.

    ¡°Forty-Five.  Fifty-Three.¡± Zero tried to muster a tone of command, and his voice rang like water on a tin roof.  I must broach the subject of my voice with Audene.

    ¡°Zero.¡±  They replied in unison, in Zero¡¯s voice.

    He stared at them both for a moment, the rod in his hand held aloft.  Lack of facial expression made them difficult to read. He hoped that they weren¡¯t going to try anything stupid today, Audene would probably put them back in their crystals if they did.  He stepped between them and began working the mechanism on the door. It was a lock that only Zero could open this way, he had built the door himself. After a few complex gestures, the door swung open, and Zero entered the room, closing it quickly behind him.

    Inside the room were Numbers One through Twelve, and Zero clipped the rod back to his waist.  The dozen had been children, and Audene had been very optimistic about them. She thought that they would be like fresh clay, but if anything they were harder to shape than even the dimmest of the others.  They did have an affinity for the hatchlings though, and Zero had been grateful to be relieved of the care of the dragons.

    ¡°Commander Zero!¡±  A dozen tin voices rang out in unison, and though they spoke in the same voice, through the same fine golden screen that he spoke, it sounded like a classroom to him.

    ¡°Children,¡±  Zero thought back to their bodies, left discarded in the stone hallway of the temple complex that had been their only home.  He pushed the foolish thought away, ¡°How are the hatchlings?¡± He was peering up and down the rows of cages, inside each container was an emerald green dragon that was far too large for the cage now.  Between every other cage was a steadily burning fire. The room was clouded with smoke though small wisps of it escaped through grated holes in the ceiling.

    ¡°Commander Zero, I don¡¯t think they like it here.¡±  The one that spoke was Number Seven, though she had told Zero in confidence that her ¡®real¡¯ name was Aruh.

    Zero looked at the cramped quarters.  Many of the green dragons lay unmoving, their wingtips spread out like funeral shrouds, furling at the ends unable to stretch past the sharp wire cage walls.  Others were pacing in tiny circles, struggling to turn around, and still worse were those that had taken to scratching at their scales, till red wounds were visible.

    The dozen were at the cages, stretching their cold copper fingers through the mesh or sitting cross legged on the floor with their heads leaning against the metal netting.  Their copper faces were inscrutable, but a strange sorrow radiated from them. It was not a sorrow for themselves, but for these wretched creatures in their care.

    ¡°It won¡¯t be much longer, we will be able to move soon, to a much better place.  They will have more space, and will be able to fly and hunt.¡± Zero didn¡¯t know if he was lying or not, but it seemed like the right thing to say.  ¡°Have you been gathering the fog when you feed them?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes!  We have more than ten!¡±  Aruh gestured to a stack of canisters.  There were at least thirty, but it had been a trying experience trying to teach any of the dozen to count past ten.  Just teaching them a few words of the language had taken weeks. Still, Number Seven had learned enough that they acted as translator and supervisor to the others.

    Zero did a more thorough count of the canisters.  With the appraising eye of a farmer looking at a field of blighted crops, he checked the health of each of the hatchlings.  Many of them looked like they were dying, though Audene had assured him that dragons were incredibly difficult to kill. Maybe their spirits are dying.

    ¡°Thank you, children.  You are doing the work of Ma¡¯ii.¡±  It was much easier to keep the children motivated by telling them they were doing what Ma¡¯ii wanted them to do.

    ¡°Thank you, Commander Zero.¡±  Again their false voices rang out in unison, and Zero felt transported to a classroom.

    He readied the silver rod again, and opened the door.  Number Forty-Five and Fifty-Three stood unmoving. Rod held in plain sight, he quickly closed the door, and locked the mechanism.  Neither of the guards said a word to him. Zero wondered if they were truly broken, or if they were merely biding their time. They were certainly the best soldiers he had at his disposal, but they were like dogs that might turn on their master at the first sign of weakness.  Still, if I had a few score like these two, Audene¡¯s plan might not seem so foolhardy.

    He made his way back through the hall, stopping and opening doors at random.  Ungrateful cretins, none of them appreciate the gift she¡¯s given us.  There was a distinct difference between those that had been taken from the temple and those that had been taken from the Uriel.  The former were like cattle, while the latter were like a pack of rabid wolves.

    He passed Suss on his way past the cells, and doubled back to let her into her room.  The doors had no locks, but none other than Forty-Five and Fifty-Three were brave enough to open the doors.  The conditioning was absolute. As she stepped into her tiny room, Suss asked him, ¡°Zero, what is your name?¡±

    The question took him by surprise, ¡°Clive,¡± he said automatically, and regretted telling her immediately.

    He raised the silver rod, and she reached out her copper hand and grasped his wrist gently, ¡°I will not tell her, Clive.¡±

    Zero hesitated, and then lowered the rod.  He closed the door, leaving her in darkness, and made his way slowly back up the ramp towards Audene¡¯s room.  Thirty-two canisters in ten days.  At this rate we might be able to seize a proper city in another month.  Assuming I can keep a leash on the Urielites.

    The cook fire had burned itself out almost completely, only a low red glow lit the edges of the room.  Zero could not feel the chill desert air, though he knew that it must be cold. He added another small piece of broken furniture to the embers, and watched flames lick greedily at the fresh fuel.  The door to Audene¡¯s room looked foreboding. A conscious distaste welled in his mind though it was not fear. It was never fear, simply a preemptive disappointment. He walked back into the room, very aware of the metallic sound of his feet on the smooth stone.

    Audene was no longer sitting behind her desk, instead she was standing in front of it with her eyes closed.  Her simple handspun robe lay around her feet like a pool of grey, contrasting with her jet black skin. Zero appraised her her naked form, his mind struggling to recall the first time he had seen her do this.

    ¡°Commander,¡± Clive blurted out the words, rushing through the tent flap, ¡°we have secured the objective, and-¡± he stopped abruptly.

    Audene was standing in the middle of the command tent naked.  She stood with her back to the intricate, moving maps and models on the table.  Her hands were clasped behind her head, and for a moment he thought she must be under the effect of an enemy spell.  Dumbstruck, Clive¡¯s hand clawed for the cord around his neck until he found the spherical pendant of silver. He worked his will on the pendant, and dozens of objects all around him immediately burst with colorful light.

    There was no light around the commander, no magic was being worked on her, or by her.  At least none that the pendant could detect. Clive hesitated, anxiety mingled with appreciation as he caught himself staring at her.  He steeled his will, and bent down to pick up her robe. As soon as he touched her, to lower her arms, her black on black eyes snapped open, and she slapped him hard across the face.  He dropped the robe, and his jaw hung open. Naked and exposed she still seemed to command all the authority and power she held on the battlefield.

    ¡°You entered my tent without permission.¡±  Her voice was sharp, her eyes boring into his.

    ¡°Apologies commander, I was sent with the message, we have secured the objective.¡±  He stared at the floor as he spoke, anxious to look anywhere but at her.

    ¡°I know, I was watching,¡± she paused, then her voice took on a playful tone, ¡°Still, you entered my tent without permission, you must be punished.  On your knees.¡±

    Zero stood stock still, staring at Audene.  He felt nothing, and never would again. Audene had not aged a day, her youth apparently enduring against the centuries, and she had given Zero the same gift.  He forced himself to feel gratitude for all that she was and all that she had given him as he waited, the minutes becoming hours.

    Finally, she opened her eyes and spoke, ¡°We shall have to mobilize, tell me that they are ready, Zero.¡±

    Zero thought to the thirty-canisters, and the two soldiers that he knew had some degree of fight in them, he said ¡°We need more time, mistress.¡±

    ¡°Time is the one thing we do not have, Zero.  The iron is hot, and you are my hammer. We must strike, that idiot king has moved too hastily, and the situation at the University has become strained.  Already the rats are fleeing, running to build their towers. We must make our move,¡± she was speaking in a cold, off-handed way that brokered no argument, crouching to gather her robe and the ever-present silver rod, ¡°More importantly, my sister approaches.¡±

    <hr>

 Julie 9

    Julie had never seen a sheet before.  Only chips. She knew that money was minted into perforated sheets of one hundred chips, and that the chips could be broken off into one gram pieces.  No one in Chalkstone used money very much, gold was very uncommon, and she had never seen platinum before. Eighteen and three-quarters of a full sheet of platinum were in her hand.  It wasn¡¯t very heavy, but it was probably worth more than the entire town she had grown up in.

    ¡°Well, hon¡¯, that¡¯s you¡¯re share.¡±  Ms Ravenhair said, breaking off a quarter of the last sheet and placing it into Julie¡¯s pile.  ¡°You don¡¯t have to come with us, you know. You can buy passage home with that. Hell, lotta people¡¯d just retire on that.¡±

    Julie was still staring at the money in her hands.  It seemed unreal, they were standing in the courtyard of the Feld keep.  All around them, people were looking everywhere but at the group. Barron had not accompanied them outside, and Tertius was standing off to the side looking forlorn.

    ¡°I want to go.  You said I was part of the team.¡±  Julie had felt hurt that Ms Ravenhair had suggested more than once that she go home.

    Ms Ravenhair surprised her, leaning forward and kissing Julie on the forehead.  ¡°You are part of the team. If you wanna come we¡¯re not going to stop you, I just want you to understand how dangerous this is.¡±

    Sevil was silently mouthing words, reading a glittering golden scroll of parchment.  He had been doing this for the last quarter hour. He had said that one syllable off, and they could all die in the attempt.  He said this very casually, but his eyes were grave. When pressed, Toby and Ms Ravenhair had said they¡¯d traveled by teleportation only once before.

    ¡°Worst trip of my life.¡±  Was all Toby had said on the matter.  His face was covered in sweat, and Julie was trying to feel the fear they were all feeling.

    Julie had pressed for more information, and now she repeated what she had learned, trying to reassure herself, ¡°Sevil said there¡¯s a failsafe though, he said there¡¯s wizards at the school who make it safer, right?¡±

    The pale man looked up from his reading, and hissed, ¡°There¡¯s also supposed to be mages manning the switchboard.  That¡¯s why we''re going. I can not guarantee safety.¡±

    Julie looked at the stack of platinum sheets again, and thought about Chalkstone.  The muddy soil, and the yellow fields of wheat. The mill to the south where her family would sell their harvest only to buy it back as flour from the miller.  She could buy her own mill, and live the rest of my life in the mud, married to some rough handed farmer!  ¡°I¡¯m going!¡±  She said at once, and began to put the money into her pouch.  It wouldn¡¯t fit without snapping the sheets, but she really didn¡¯t want to break them.

    Ms Ravenhair saw what she was doing and with a smile, she produced a much larger money pouch.  This one shimmered slightly. ¡°Here, this one¡¯s better, it¡¯s enchanted against theft and it¡¯ll hold that without breaking ¡®em.¡±

    Julie thanked her, and put the money away in the shimmering pouch which she then tucked safely into the bottom of her backpack.  Sevil announced that he was as confident as he was going to become. Tertius walked over to Julie, still looking comical with his hat of grass.  He swept it off his head, and bowed low, revealing a tiny bald patch on the back of his head. ¡°M¡¯lady, I¡¯d thank you for services rendered with a kiss, should you permit it.¡±

    Julie smiled.  When he rose, she stood up on tiptoes to peck him quickly on the cheek, pulling her face back as quick as a snake.  He seemed a bit disappointed, but favored her with another bow.

    ¡°Clear the area,¡± Sevil commanded, ¡°Toby, Delila, Julie,¡± he said, favoring each of them with a nod, ¡°grab hold of me firmly, and do not let go, no matter what happens.  If this is it for us, I thank you all, it¡¯s been quite a journey.¡±

    Ms Ravenhair grinned, ¡°Don¡¯t talk like that Sevil, you¡¯ve done this before, it¡¯ll be fine.¡±  She grabbed hold of his arm, and Sevil looked grave. Toby grabbed hold of his other arm, and Julie grabbed the same arm that Ms Ravenhair had, with both hands.

    Julie gripped him ferociously, expecting him to complain, but he did not.  He raised the scroll, and began reading out loud. Time stretched on as he enunciated each of the strange words with a slow and careful rhythm.  Finally his voice stopped, and Julie felt a coldness unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was the absence of heat, the absence of everything, the darkness was complete, and she could not tell if her eyes were open or closed.  Is this what death is like?

    A strange room, with stone walls etched with uncountable symbols swam into focus, and Julie felt a moment of relief.  Then the image was ripped away. Suddenly all she was aware of was pain, and the feeling of Sevil¡¯s arm. Every bit of strength she had went into digging her fingers into his flesh through the cloth of his robe.  A force repelled her, and tried to rip her away, but she clung to Sevil¡¯s thin arm, feeling his muscles tear beneath her fingers. The strange room was gone, and there was only blackness again.

    Then her legs were soaking wet.  She could feel the sun beating down on her face, and smell the earthy musk of a swamp.  Cautiously, she opened her eyes. Sevil¡¯s voice startled her, ¡°Julie, you can let go now.¡±

    Julie released her grip, and took an appraising look.  All four were there, looking bedraggled. They were up to their knees in water.  There was not a single building in sight. Strange trees with vines hanging down dipping in the water surrounded them, and the sun filtered through their branches.

    Ms Ravenhair said, ¡°Everyone in one piece?¡±

    Toby grunted his assent, reaching for his axe as he did so.  Sevil was rubbing his arm where Julie had been clinging, ¡°I think I¡¯ll have a nasty set of bruises, but yes, nothing seems to be missing.¡±

    Ms Ravenhair grinned, and said, ¡°What happened?  Thought we were going to the school?¡±

    Sevil reach for his pipe, and said, ¡°It seems the school has been warded, the tele-reception center must be closed.¡±This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Julie looked around, and asked ¡°So, where are we?¡±

    Ms Ravenhair looked seriously at Sevil before anyone answered and said, ¡°Better question is, how are we not dead?¡±

    Sevil lit his pipe with a sulphur match, and Julie noticed now how fatigued he looked, ¡°I adjusted the spell when I noticed the ward,¡± he turned to Julie and added, ¡°we¡¯re somewhere outside of Two Lanes.¡±

    Ms Ravenhair let out a long whistle and then laughed and said, ¡°And to think they denied you your doctorate!¡±

    Sevil graced her with a rare smile, and said, ¡°Politics.¡±

    Julie looked around, feeling the uncomfortable moisture creeping up her legs.  She was wearing her armor again, having changed as quickly as she could before they gathered in the courtyard.  The chest piece was damaged though. Ms Ravenhair had said that Toby could probably repair it when ¡®we get somewhere that isn¡¯t a shithole.¡¯  She felt oddly exposed in the muddy grey green mail with her chest covered in only black silk. ¡°So which way do we go?¡± She asked, hoping to get to Two Lanes as quickly as possible.

    Ms Ravenhair produced what looked like a compass, and said ¡°Which way to Two Lanes?¡±  Julie took a few muddy steps closer to get a better look, and noticed that there were no symbols at all beneath the spinning needle.  After a moment the red tip stopped, and Ms Ravenhair began walking in the direction it was pointing.

    ¡°Impressive,¡± Julie said.

    Sevil sniffed and said, ¡°I could have told you which way it was.¡±

    Ravenhair looked over at him, and said, ¡°Yes, but I¡¯m sure you¡¯re tired from saving all of our lives.¡±  She smiled, and Sevil smiled back at her. The troop marched on through the mud exchanging good natured quips as they went.  Julie felt more at home than she ever had with all her brothers or her parents.

    After about a half hour of walking through water, they came upon a strange road.  It immediately put Julie in the mind of Willet. There were raised wood planks supported by pillars drove into the wet ground, and gravel filled the gaps between the planks.  Sevil said, ¡°Ahh, this will lead us right to the Second Lane, excellent. We¡¯ll make much better time now. I knew I didn''t miss the mark by that much.¡±

    Toby said, ¡°Oh come off it, it was a close call, you can¡¯t have had that much choice where we landed!¡±

    Sevil shrugged one shoulder, and Julie smiled, things were looking up again.  She was going to get to see the fabled University! They were walking quite casually when they came upon another group of travellers heading the opposite direction.  It was Ms Ravenhair who called out to them, ¡°Hail!¡±

    The other group had a strange determined look about them.  So far up the road, Julie couldn¡¯t make out very much. Two young men, a woman, and what looked like a child and a dog.  Maybe a family.  As they got closer though, Julie realized that it was probably not a family.  As the features of the other group¡¯s faces came into focus, the trio stopped, and Julie stopped with them, feeling tension radiating off of them.  The other group was marching towards them, and Julie wrapped her hand around the hilt of her sword.

    She was taken aback by the appearance of the woman leading the group.  She was straight backed, and walked with a military air. Her head was shaved down to smooth skin as black as night.  Her eyes were also black. Black on black with no whites. She wore a khaki jacket and matching trousers, and on her back was a heavy looking leather pack.  Julie saw no weapons on her, and was pleased with herself for looking.

    The next member of the group was the creature she had at first mistaken for a dog.  It was a great green lizard, with leathery wings furled close to its back. It was ambling along, never leaving the side of the child Julie now realized was a little girl.  She was a strangely dressed little girl, with mended travel clothes and bright red hair that stuck out from underneath a shimmering silver hood that draped down to the middle of her chest.  She was also walking with her back ramrod straight, and Julie noticed she had an amulet of some sort around her neck, and rings on both her hands. The same jewelry combination that Ms Ravenhair wore at all times.  She too had a heavy looking pack on her back.

    Standing next to her was slouch shouldered youth.  His black hair hung around his face sallow face in greasy rivulets.  He was wearing hardworn trousers that looked too short for him, showing his ankles and a long sleeved brown shirt that looked much too big for him.  He seemed to be carrying nothing at all, and walked with a deep slouch, staring at the ground in front of him.

    Finally, there was a young man who looked to be perhaps a few years Julie¡¯s senior.  He was wearing dark grey robes. A wizard?  His hair was orange, and his skin was obviously fair, but seemed as if he had been in the sun far too much lately, for an amalgamation of freckles on his face seemed to be conspiring to form a tan.  He had a pack on his back too, though his seemed much lighter and smaller than the woman¡¯s.

    The dark woman walked right up to the group, and said, ¡°Sevil?  What are you doing here?¡±

    The young man with the orange hair hurried to stand next to the woman, he gasped, ¡°Sevil?  You don¡¯t mean Sevil Anasazi?¡± He was staring at Sevil, and his eyes seemed to widen taking in the scar on Sevil¡¯s face.  ¡°He¡¯s a wanted criminal!¡±

    Ms Ravenhair snorted, ¡°He may be a criminal, but I don¡¯t know who wants him.¡±

    Sevil cast her a dirty look, and then he returned the dark woman¡¯s gaze, ¡°Doctor Mendes, I was on my way to investigate the University.  No one has been answering at the switchboard. I attempted to teleport in.¡±

    Dr. Mendes winced at the words, ¡°That must have been painful, I¡¯m glad you managed to survive.  The University is on lockdown.¡±

    ¡°What!¡±  Sevil and Ms Ravenhair exclaimed in unison.

    The woman called Dr. Mendes began explaining everything.  Several times the girl, whose name turned out to be Emile, interrupted or ammended what was being said.  By the end of the long story, all four of them had managed to contribute something, even Demetrius who was hard pressed for details about the escape by Ms Ravenhair who seemed very interested in the device that was used in the courtroom.  ¡°Must¡¯ve been Dwarven.¡± She finally said, allowing the group to finish telling the story.

    It took some time for the entire thing to be explained to Sevil¡¯s satisfaction, and when he heard Dr. Mendes say that the girl had been ¡®leaning¡¯ on the staff at the school, he tensed up as if he was expecting to be struck.  ¡°Like the good king?¡± He had said, and the doctor had said it seemed to be the same.

    ¡°Worse still, or better I suppose,¡± Dr. Mendes continued looking at the small girl who was idly rubbing the head of the dragon, ¡°it seems she has an innate understanding of The Language.  The two powers together led me to conclude that the only logical course of action was to keep her in my sight. And so, now we head west, because that is where I believe the attack on Uriel originated.¡±

    Everyone paused to consider this, and Julie finally asked, ¡°Well, that explains why you brought the girl, and I get that he,¡± she gestured to the young man called Wendel, ¡°is your apprentice, but why did you bring the serving boy.¡±  She looked at the dark youth who was standing slightly away from the group looking at his shoes, ¡°No offense.¡±

    ¡°Oh, none taken,¡± he answered looking up and meeting her eye for a brief moment, he had very dark eyes Julie noticed, ¡°I would have much preferred not to come,¡± he looked down again and added, ¡°although with the way things are at the University, I don¡¯t know if I¡¯d rather be there.¡±

    Dr. Mendes appraised Julie with her strange black on black gaze and said, ¡°The answer to that is twofold.  The first reason is that Emile wanted him to come, and as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve gleaned, that would have been reason enough in itself.  The second reason shall, for now, be kept between Demetrius and myself.¡±

 Wendel 10

    Wendel felt like an outsider.  Everyone seemed to know each other, or at least to know someone else from the other group.  The sun had set, and in spite of pressing need, Dr. Mendes had insisted that they double back to the outskirts of Two Lanes and stay in one of the inns.  The Wizard¡¯s Staff, it was called.  It was a sleazy place that Wendel had never gone to in all the years of attending school at the University.  Not that anyone ever invited me to go anywhere with them.  There were few other patrons in the large common room, and they all kept their distance from the three tables that were pushed together for the group.

    It came as no surprise to Wendel that the owners, a middle aged couple called Mark and Big John, knew Dr. Mendes and owed her their lives.  It must have been an ironic nickname, because ¡®Big John¡¯ was a tiny slip of a man, though he intimidated Wendel nonetheless. The way he conducted himself, shouting orders at the serving girls and brandishing a cudgel when it wasn¡¯t dangling from his belt.  Every time one of the serving girls came over to the table, he made a big show of reprimanding her and insisted on serving the group himself. Wendel would have greatly preferred one of the pretty serving girls.

    Dr. Mendes and Sevil were locked in a strange conversation that was half spoken and half gestured with strange hand signals.  They sat in the corner, each with their back to a wall, and each constantly looking up to glance furtively at the door. Directly across from Wendel, the woman who was called only ¡®Ravenhair,¡¯ was eating loudly, knocking back pints of ale like they were water.  Wendel thought she was very attractive, if a bit older and uncouth. On his left, the gargantuan man with the axe that probably weighed as much as Wendel, was sipping at a tankard of ale. Wendel had not heard him speak more than three words in succession, and thought he might be a bit a dim.  Probably doesn¡¯t even realise he¡¯s travelling with criminals, poor man.

    Her silver hood pooled on her neck, the little redhead was sitting next to Ravenhair, the dragon at her feet under the table.  Wendel was terrified of her. Leaning was perhaps the most frightening Talent in recorded history. Entire semesters had been dedicated to studying the philosophical and historical significance of the first king¡¯s actions and whether they had been moral.  The serving boy, Demetrius, sat at the end of the table between Emile and Julie, who occupied the final corner, on Wendel¡¯s right. Julie kept trying to ask him questions about his studies at the school, things that she couldn¡¯t possibly understand.

    ¡°So if magic is a Language, that changes the shape of reality, how do enchanted objects work,¡± she proffered what seemed to be a pair of riding goggles, and held them out to Wendel, ¡°I don¡¯t see anything written on these.¡±

    Wendel had only been half listening to her, staring as he was at the scantily clad waitress who was serving drinks to one of the other tables, he turned back to look at the goggles and said, ¡°Of course there¡¯s nothing written on them, what a stupid question.¡±

    The girl¡¯s face dropped.  She quickly pulled the goggles back, and put them away, ¡°I was just asking, you don¡¯t have to be rude,¡± she said and then added under her breath, ¡°Even Sevil isn¡¯t that rude when I ask him things.¡±

    At mention of his name, whispered though it was, the scarred man turned his attention away from his conversation with the doctor, ¡°Don¡¯t waste your questions on him, Julie.  Very few understand the principles behind enchanting. If we ever have a few hours when we¡¯re not in mortal peril, I¡¯ll explain how it works to you.¡± He returned to his half whispered, half signed conversation with the doctor.

    Wendel felt his face flush, ¡°I do too understand how enchanting works,¡± he said much louder than he had intended to, ¡°I¡¯m just not going to waste my time explaining it to a hick when we have much more important things to be doing!¡±

    Every eye in the room turned to the sound of his raised voice, and Ravenhair said loud enough for everyone to hear, ¡°Oh yeah?  Like ogling serving girls?¡±

    The few other patrons in the inn laughed and returned to their own conversations.  Wendel noticed that the waitress he¡¯d had his eye on raised her hand to her face to hide her giggling.  Dr. Mendes and Sevil both cast Wendel a dirty look. As if it was his fault.

    Big John and the pretty waitress came over to the table, each carrying a tray of food, and he asked, ¡°Is everything all right over here?  Anything else I can bring you?¡± He started distributing plates of sumptuous smelling meat and vegetables.

    Ravenhair reached across the table, revealing even more of her cleavage as she did so, ¡°Jes¡¯ another round of drinks!¡±  Wendel realised he was staring and quickly looked down at the plate of food in front of him.

    Everyone was momentarily distracted by the food, even Sevil whose plate consisted only of two raw steaks.  He and Dr. Mendes stopped their conversation to eat. It had been a long time since Wendel ate a proper meal at a table.  Emile was trying to pass bits of food under the table to the dragon, and seemed to be growing frustrated. ¡°Gypsum, you need to eat!¡±  She implored, ¡°Well, I don¡¯t have anything that¡¯s alive!¡± She turned from the dragon, and addressed the group as a whole, ¡°She needs to hunt.¡±

    No one argued.  The dragon needed to hunt.  Emile escorted her to the door of the inn, and opened it, letting the dragon out.  Wendel shuddered at the thought. When Emile returned to the table, Dr. Mendes asked, ¡°Gypsum only eats live prey?¡±

    Emile shrugged, picking up knife and fork, ¡°Yes, she doesn¡¯t like to eat anything that isn¡¯t ¡®fresh.¡¯¡±

    The criminal Sevil said, ¡°I completely understand,¡± He cut off a piece of raw, bloody steak and brought it to his mouth.

    Julie was still casting Wendel dirty looks between bites.  Stuck up girl, just like all the girls at school, thinking she¡¯s better than me just because she¡¯s pretty and people like her.  Wendel¡¯s pleasure at eating had disappeared, and he pushed the half finished meal in front of him, placing the knife and fork on the plate, the knife through the tines of the fork to signal to the waitstaff that he did not enjoy the meal.

    ¡°You ain¡¯t going to finish eatin¡¯?¡±  Ms Ravenhair said, reaching across the table boorishly, and grabbing Wendel¡¯s plate, his neatly laid out knife and fork clattering onto the table.  She scraped the remnants of his meal onto her plate, and resumed eating with vigor.

    The serving boy spoke very softly, ¡°Enchanting isn¡¯t that complicated,¡±  Julie¡¯s head turned to look at him, ¡°I can explain it to you if you like.¡±

    ¡°Really!¡±  Julie¡¯s face lit up in a warm smile, making her look very pretty, ¡°I didn¡¯t realize you were a mage.¡±

    Demetrius stared at the table as he spoke, ¡°Well, I¡¯m not, but I¡¯ve read a lot.¡±

    ¡°Oh please!¡±  Wendel exclaimed, this was too much for him, ¡°Even if you did understand it, it would take hours to explain it!¡±

    Ravenhair stared at him from across the table, ¡°Yer¡¯ a popular fellow, I bet.  Loads of friends at the school, eh?¡±This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    The huge man at his left laughed, a low rumble.  Probably has him trained to laugh at her stupid jokes, like a dog.  ¡°Fine,¡± Wendel said, derisively, ¡°Explain what you¡¯ve learned in your years of scrubbing toilets at the U.¡±

    Demetrius stared at the table for a long time, not saying anything.  Dr. Mendes and Sevil were still talking in hushed whispers and hand signals at the other end of the table, apparently oblivious to the rest of the group.  Julie reached a hand out, tenderly and touched Demetrius¡¯ back. ¡°I¡¯d really like to hear you explain it.¡±

    The serving boy took a deep breath, and then said, ¡°The way I understand it, enchanting an object takes three things.  First the object has to be made out of a base element. It¡¯s preferable if it¡¯s gold, silver, or platinum, though depending on the strength and nature of the enchantment, other elements can be used, and are some are even better than the precious metals.  Lightstones, for instance, can be mass produced from quartz because it¡¯s primarily silica. The second thing is the spell is cast almost in its entirety, therefore the enchanting process takes a very long time, even for simple enchantments. I read that lightstones take about three hours to enchant, each stone, depending on how fast the enchanter can say the words.  Obviously, making a mistake, even one syllable off can ruin the enchantment.¡±

    Julie interrupted him here, ¡°Wait, if spells take that long to cast, how come I¡¯ve seen Sevil cast spells like levitate in just a few words?¡±

    Wendel smiled inwardly at this, hoping that Demetrius would be unable to explain it, but he pushed on, ¡°There are such things as ¡®remembered¡¯ spells.  Not to say that the caster simply has the spell memorized, but rather that they have already said the majority of the words, shaping reality in that direction in advance.  Most of the students at the school get tested on this in their exams in the linguistics class, they must prepare a presentation of spells, and be able to cast them in quick succession.  The problem is, the caster has to retain the will on the spell. Think of it like pushing a boulder up a hill, and they finish it with the last few syllables, pushing it over the edge and starting it rolling down the other side.  The more spells a caster has prepared in advance, the more ¡®boulders¡¯ they are holding at the top of the hill with the strength of their minds.¡±

    Julie cast a glance over at Sevil and Dr. Mendes, ¡°I take it, that that is very difficult?¡±

    Wendel thought of his own exams in the linguistics class.  He had only been able to present three spells, and none of them were very impressive, but holding three spells at the ready had been incredibly difficult.  Often, he wondered if he had only been given passing marks out of pity or because of his legacy status.

    Demetrius examined his hands, ¡°I don¡¯t know from personal experience, but I¡¯ve seen how stressed the students get before their exams.  I¡¯ve heard them say holding more than five spells is almost impossible.¡±

    He was interrupted by Sevil laughing derisively from the other side of the table, ¡°Sorry, continue, you are doing very well.¡±  He turned back to Dr. Mendes.

    ¡°Wait!¡±  Wendel exclaimed to Sevil, ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±

    The scarred man hissed his words, his voice grated on Wendel¡¯s nerves, ¡°Just that students these days seem to think five is the limit.¡±

    Wendel looked to Dr. Mendes in the corner, hoping that she would intervene, but she seemed content to sit silently, the criminal started to turn his back on Wendel again, and Demetrius started to say, ¡°In any case, that doesn''t really matter with enchanting, that¡¯s kind of the point,¡±

    Wendel interrupted him, ¡°I suppose you can hold more than five?  Huh? Is that why you¡¯re still just a mage?¡±

    Sevil turned from Dr. Mendes once more, signing a complex series to her as he did so.  The doctor laughed lightly, and then shrugged, aloud she said, ¡°I didn¡¯t request another one, but one of the ancients seem to think he¡¯s destined for ¡®greatness.¡¯¡±

    Sevil looked at Wendel, and then back at the doctor, and then back at Wendel, ¡°Yes.  I can hold more than five.¡± There was a note of dismissal on every syllable, he turned back to the doctor again.

    Emile pushed her plate away from her and said, ¡°Where do you start?  I don¡¯t know what you mean by a ¡®spell.¡¯¡±

    Everyone at the table, and several of the other patrons in the inn immediately started talking at once to answer the girl¡¯s question.  It was a horrible cacophony of noise, and Wendel realized that he too was explaining the elemental foundation principle before he heard the girl shout, ¡°Stop!¡±  The words evaporated from his mind like they had never existed, and Wendel froze. A tankard clattered to the floor, and Wendel saw that the serving girl had frozen in mid step, and everything on her tray had tipped over.

    Dr. Mendes was the only one who seemed to be able to speak, and the effort seemed to take all of her strength, ¡°Emile, dear, perhaps you should tell everyone to carry on, like they were.¡±

    The little girl had been staring up at the ceiling, she turned to the sound of the doctor¡¯s voice and said, ¡°Oh, yes.  As you were.¡±

    Everyone took a breath at once, and returned to what they had been doing before.  The serving girl started to clean up the spilled drinks, and to Wendel¡¯s surprise Big John wasn¡¯t yelling at her for spilling them.  He was standing behind the bar staring at their group. Wendel wondered just how deep the debt he owed Dr. Mendes was.

    Ravenhair stood up, pushing her chair back, ¡°Peh¡¯haps we should adjourn to our rooms?¡±  She turned to the proprietor¡¯s of this inn, and said, ¡°Which rooms are ours, anyway?¡±

    Rental of rooms had not been discussed, and so Wendel was surprised by the response, ¡°Well, regrettably, madam, we have only two rooms available tonight.¡±  Then he added, ¡°I do hope that will suffice for you?¡± This last he directed at Dr. Mendes, crossing the room in several small, hurried steps.

    Dr. Mendes smiled at the simpering man, ¡°That will be adequate for our needs, John.  Ravenhair, who will you assign to first watch?¡±

    The buxom woman smiled like a shark, and said, ¡°I think Julie and Demetrius should take the first watch.  Sounded like he still had a lot to teach her. About enchanting.¡±

    ¡°Settled then,¡±  The doctor said in a tone of voice that brokered no argument,  ¡°John, if you could be so kind as to lead us to our rooms,¡± she gathered up her pack, and everyone began picking up their supplies, ¡°Emile, you will be with Ravenhair and myself.  If that is to your approval.¡±

    The girl followed Ravenhair and Dr. Mendes, and Julie grabbed Demetrius¡¯ unresisting hand, and led him outside the inn.  Wendel looked at the two men he was left with, standing around the table. Mark, the larger of the two innkeepers approached them and said, ¡°Right this way, I¡¯ll show you to your room.¡±  Sevil and Toby grabbed their packs, and Wendel grabbed his, following behind. As they approached the room, Mark proffered a key to Sevil, and said, ¡°Unfortunately, there are only two beds.¡±

    Sevil was first through the door, and Wendel was last.  The room was decrepit, at least by the standard Wendel had come to expect from Two Lanes.  The floor was unpolished wood, and the fireplace was unlit and filthy. Sevil tossed his travelpack onto one of the beds, and Toby did likewise with the other bed, leaving Wendel holding his pack, standing in the middle of the room.  Both of the older men began undressing.

    Wendel was outraged, he spoke up petulantly, ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s fair at all!  You two just think you should get the beds, because you were first through the door?¡±

    Sevil continued unlacing his boots, sitting on the bed he had claimed as his own, but Toby stopped unclasping his armor, ¡°Want to wrestle for it?¡±

    ¡°Oh, very funny!¡±  Wendel felt himself struggling to keep his voice level, and kept hearing it crack.

    Sevil took off one of his boots, and set it aside very carefully, ¡°Well, we could duel for it.  Standard school rules, sleeping spells.¡±

    Wendel looked from one grinning face back to the other, ¡°I was thinking, you know, more like a coin toss or something!¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Sevil said, ¡°Toss a coin.¡±

    Wendel rummaged around in his pockets, and finally produced a silver chip.  ¡°Would you like to call it?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Sevil hissed, and Wendel flicked the coin up into the air.  It tumbled and tumbled through the air, and then stopped. Wendel was sure it had stopped for a moment, but the next thing he knew he was holding it.  ¡°Heads.¡±

    Wendel glared at the man, and flipped his hand over, when he opened it, it was heads.  The ugly face of King Everard Puissant smiled smugly up at him. Toby said, ¡°Well, that settles it then, what do you care anyway, young buck like you?  Shouldn¡¯t mind sleeping on the floor, beats the mud.¡±

    ¡°But!¡±  Wendel caught himself raising his foot, and brought it down slowly before he actually stomped, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling he was being made a fool, ¡°You should have to flip for your bed too!¡±

    ¡°No.¡±  Toby said, and took off his chest plate.  It clattered to the floor like a dropped cymbal.  ¡°If you¡¯re that determined to sleep in my bed,¡± he bent at the waist and patted the top of the mattress with his hand invitingly, ¡°Then come on over.  I¡¯m a cuddler.¡± He pursed his lips and made kissing sounds.

    <hr>

 Julie 10

    Julie led Demetrius outside by the hand.  His hand was oddly unresisting, and he seemed to shuffle along with her, furtively frowning at his right shoulder.  Outside, she turned to him and said, ¡°Did you live at the University your whole life?¡±

    Demetrius had been staring at his right shoulder, and looked startled when she spoke, ¡°Well, not my whole life.¡±

    It was full dark now, the only light cast by glowing stones that wrapped around the border of the inn¡¯s sign.  The inn was on the outskirts of Two Lanes, well away from the light of the city, and it was a moonless night. Julie seemed to be considering something, and then finally rummaged in her bag and produced the goggles she had tried to show Wendel, ¡°That must have been very exciting, growing up at the University,¡± she said.

    Demetrius stared at the goggles in her hands, ¡°What do those do?¡±  He asked, sounding excited.

    ¡°Oh these!¡±  Julie¡¯s heart bloomed as she looked at them.  Strange though they made her look when she wore them, they had already become her most prized possession, ¡°They detect enchantments, and let me see in the dark, and all sorts of things.¡±

    Julie thought that he was going to ask her if he could try them on, but instead he asked, ¡°Really?  Can you put them on?¡±

    She had been planning on putting them on anyway, to better see into the darkness.  They slipped over her face easily, and through the goggles at Demetrius was outlined by the now familiar green overlay.  It wrapped around his face, which was clear as if they had been standing in the sun. Below the green circle, it said UNIDENTIFIED PERSON: OCCUPATION UNKNOWN, and then off to the side it said ¡®Update?¡¯  Julie felt herself smile and said, ¡°What¡¯s your last name, Demetrius?¡±

    He kept stealing looks at his right shoulder, and seemed to be growing agitated, ¡°Wha?  Erm, last name? Demetrius is my only name.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have a last name?¡±  Julie was beginning to wonder if it was a tic, and decided that she shouldn¡¯t draw attention to it, as he might be self conscious about it.

    ¡°Erm, no.¡±  He looked right again, and mouthed something, then said, ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t see anything else?¡±

    ¡°Well, let me try a few things,¡±  She looked at the word ¡®Update¡¯ that was still hovering below his face and said, ¡°Demetrius?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°No, I was talking to the goggles,¡± She was very pleased to see that where before it had said UNIDENTIFIED PERSON: OCCUPATION UNKNOWN, it now read ¡®Demetrius?: OCCUPATION UNKNOWN¡¯.

    ¡°Er, sorry to interrupt,¡±  He made a shushing sound at his shoulder.

    Julie had not had much time to practice, but she had learned to control a few things with the goggles.  They were very intuitive, seemingly controlled by her needs. She focused on cycling through a few of the functions.  First Demetrius became bright red and orange, and everything around him was dark blue and green, then she was able to see right through him, and through the door behind him, into the inn.  ¡°Oh!¡± She squeaked excitedly.

    ¡°You can see her?¡±  Demetrius sounded very exhilarated, ¡°Tell me you can see her!¡±

    ¡°The waitress?  I mean, yeah, I can see everyone in the common room!¡±  Some of the figures seemed vaguely transparent, but if she focused she could make them solidify.  It took a moment for her to make the bar visible, but not the wall she was looking through, and when she did it, it seemed like quite an accomplishment.  ¡°How did you know they could do that?¡± Julie was beginning to feel like this young man was much more knowledgeable than he was leading her to believe.

    Julie allowed the goggles to focus back on Demetrius again, and was momentarily shocked to see his bare chest.  He was somewhat muscular, but very ropy and his skin though dark had a very sickly color to it. She felt herself flush at invading his privacy, and quickly averted her eyes, ¡°Sorry,¡± she said, ¡°For a moment there I could see through your clothes.¡±

    Demetrius¡¯ shoulder slouched even more than normal, and he sat down on the wooden stairs of the inn¡¯s porch, ¡°I was really hoping you would be able to see her.¡±

    Julie thought she must have offended him, ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to look through your clothes!  Anyway, I have five brothers, you don¡¯t have anything I¡¯ve never seen before.¡±

    Demetrius looked up at her, through the black curtains of his hair and said, ¡°Er?  What? I don¡¯t care about that, I was just really hoping you could see her. Dr. Mendes seemed to be able to, but I don¡¯t know if she was just humoring me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s the kind of person that would do that, but you know her better than I do.¡±  Julie focused with the goggles, trying to see if she could get three things to work at once. It was difficult, but she was able to see through all the walls of the inn as if it wasn¡¯t there.  Then reddish outlines of the animals in the surrounding swamplands appeared and finally the land itself illuminated in shades of green. As she surveryed the land, a bright glowing orange circle came into focus, surrounding the inn.  At the bottom right, in the familiar green script she read, WARNING: ADVANCED DEFENSIVE WARD, CASTER UNKNOWN, POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS.

    ¡°I¡¯m really starting to figure these out!¡±

    Demetrius was invisible now, When she looked down at him.  His disembodied voice made her feel odd, ¡°Are there any people out there?¡±

    ¡°Nope, just animals.  I think either the doctor or Sevil put up a ward though.¡±  She sat down next to him on the narrow stair, their shoulders touching.  ¡°Or maybe it was Wendel,¡± she felt a fresh wave of disdain thinking about the pompous, ginger mage.

    ¡°That makes me feel a little better, I guess,¡±  He sounded vaguely sad, ¡°I wonder if they would be able to discern between real animals and wizards in animal form or their familiars.¡±  He spoke offhandedly of such things. Julie was reminded of how much more he knew about the world of wizards than she did.

    ¡°Wizards can turn into animals, then?¡±  She was trying not to sound ignorant, and but the thought of Wendel had reminded her that he had referred to her as a ¡®hick.¡¯  Hot blood rushed to her face.

    Demetrius, however, didn¡¯t sound at all condescending when he answered, ¡°Only the very powerful ones.  Historically speaking, there have not been very many that possessed an aptitude for it, but yes, there were enough with that level of power that left the school that I wouldn¡¯t rule it out.¡±  He turned and looked at her, ¡°Dr. Mendes wanting to post a watch made me a little nervous.¡± Then he added in a murmur, ¡°You¡¯re probably not scared at all though.¡±

    Julie had not been scared until Demetrius said that, now her mind was beginning to race.  She decided it might be better to change the subject, ¡°You were telling me about enchanting.¡±

    Demetrius looked over his right shoulder again for a long moment, and then frowned.  He turned back to face Julie again, ¡°I was, wasn¡¯t I? Well, I mean, it¡¯s not like what I¡¯m explaining will actually let you do enchanting.  The books I read were all full of diagrams and incantations and the like. I had to read the Properties of Enchantment book several times before I was even able to grasp it.¡±  Julie frowned, she was worried he wasn¡¯t going to continue his explanation.  He must have noticed, and quickly added, ¡°I just want you to know that this, er, just how I understand it.¡±

    She patted him on the back, and said, ¡°I just want a general idea.  Every time I¡¯ve asked Sevil to explain things, he uses words I don¡¯t even understand.  You said enchanting takes three things, and you said the first two were a base element and casting the spell.¡±

    ¡°Almost casting the spell,¡± he corrected her kindly, ¡°That¡¯s the trick of it.  They cast almost the whole spell.  As far as actually casting it goes, the words are only a very small part of it, from what I¡¯ve read anyway.  The rest is mostly willpower. There¡¯s whole books dedicated to study of the language, obviously, and there are books about theories about the origin of the language and its connection to the gods.  I really don¡¯t understand any of it,¡± he sounded very forlorn and added, ¡°That¡¯s why I never took the dean up on his offer of a scholarship, well that and the students.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    Julie gasped, ¡°You were offered a scholarship!  To the University!¡± It was hard to wrap her mind around it, especially since the way he phrased it, it sounded like a standing offer he had refused.  Ignorant as the people of Chalkstone were about the world outside their little village, even they knew that tuition at the University was worth more than the value of all their lands, ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t enroll?¡±

    Demetrius looked away from her, and stared out into the darkness for a long time before he answered, ¡°Well, two things really.  The first might just be easier to show you, stand up please.¡± Julie stood up, and followed Demetrius back to the door to the inn, he held up his hand to the sign depicting a wizard holding a long staff that seemed to be drooping comically at the top.  It was illuminated by lightstones inlaid into the border, ¡°Put your hand on one of the stones, and try to convince the stone that it isn¡¯t glowing.¡±

    Through the goggles, each of the stones was accompanied by tiny green text that read PRIMITIVE LIGHT ENCHANTMENT: LIMITED DURATION: 5:45:33 The last number must have been seconds, for it was constantly falling.  Julie did as she was instructed, placing her hand over one of the stones on the bottom of the border. Something shifted in her mind as she touched it, and she could tell that the stone was convinced it was glowing with light.  Very little effort was required to convince the stone that it was, in fact, inert. Orange light streamed from the stone into her hand, and the stone was dark as she removed it, the text around that stone was replaced with PRIMITIVE LIGHT ENCHANTMENT: DEACTIVATED.

    ¡°Impressive,¡± Demetrius said, smiling wanly, ¡°Now watch.¡±  He put one finger on the stone, and seemed to be concentrating.  Nothing happened, and then the tiniest bit of orange light streamed from his hand, through his finger, into the stone.  It flickered faintly for a moment, and then went dark again. ¡°Perhaps you should turn it back on, wouldn¡¯t want to offend Big John.¡±

    Julie looked from Demetrius to the stone, confused, but she complied.  One finger on the stone, she willed it to shine again. It burst into light much brighter than all of the other stones in the frame.  The text she saw through the goggles changed once more, PRIMITIVE LIGHT ENCHANTMENT: LIMITED DURATION: 2:17:33:17, ¡°Oh!¡± She was very surprised by how bright the stone was compared to all the others.

    ¡°You seem to be a natural,¡±  Demetrius returned to the stairs of the porch and sat down again, ¡°but as you can see, I am not.¡±

    Julie stared at the stone that she had touched.  It¡¯s so much brighter than the others!  She reached her hand out, and touched the stone with one finger like Demetrius did, and concentrated carefully, on trying to match the stone¡¯s brightness with the others.  Orange light streamed into her hand, and the counter began rapidly falling. Once it was within a few minutes of the other stones, she focused on the brightness, and was able to carefully adjust it to match the other stones.

    Smiling wide, she turned back to Demetrius, and noticed that he seemed to be talking to himself.  She cleared her throat, and he looked up at her, and his jaw dropped. ¡°That¡¯s incredible! You say you have no formal training?¡±

    Jule felt herself blush, ¡°Well, no, but I think that the goggles help a lot.  I wish that I could go to the University.¡± It was too late when she realized what she had said, ¡°I mean, before what happened.¡±

    Demetrius shook his head, ¡°The other reason that I refused the dean¡¯s offer was the students.¡±

    Julie sat down next to him again, willing the green circle and his name to disappear as it was annoying her, ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°At the University, Wendel was one of the nice kids.  I think that that is why he¡¯s like that now. He didn¡¯t have any friends there.¡±  Julie was taken aback at the kindness in Demetrius¡¯ voice.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t mad at him at all for how he treated you in there?¡±

    Demetrius looked wistful, ¡°I don¡¯t like what he said to you, but I didn¡¯t think he was being particularly cruel towards me, no,¡± then he added as an afterthought, ¡°I know what cruelty feels like.  I think he¡¯s just scared. I don¡¯t think he was giving either of us much thought. Cruelty is wanting to hurt a homeless child because you¡¯re bored and you enjoy it.¡± It sounded as though he knew this child.

    Julie thought of some of the stories that Tertius had told her.  Stories of malicious villains who terrorized people just for fun, and wicked stepmothers that beat the beautiful girls that always turned out to be princesses in the end.  But there are no secret princesses in real life, and she¡¯d always thought that meant there were no real villains either.  There were people like Robert Two Eyes, but he was a thief.  Not a monster. Meryl Jones was cruel.

    A long silence drew itself between them, and the night seemed darker somehow, even with the goggles.  Demetrius said, ¡°Did you still want to hear about enchanting?¡± He sounded as anxious to be talking as Julie felt.

    ¡°Yes!¡±  She blurted out, and then felt self conscious at the eagerness in her voice, ¡°I mean, if you still want to tell me,¡± she added quickly.

    ¡°The third thing is a lock, a means of binding the enchantment to the object.  The lock is basically a potion, as far as I understand it,¡± he smiled, and his face lit up.  Julie realised that he was actually quite handsome, ¡°Madam Druce would certainly disagree with the word ¡®potion¡¯ but that is how I think of it.¡±

    Julie felt herself smiling with him, the fear from only a few moments ago evaporating, ¡°Do you have big cauldrons?  That you chant over, shaking bones and skulls? That¡¯s what I was always told wizards did to make potions.¡±

    His laugh was a fragile thing, and it made her feel safer as if a bird hand landed on her hand, he said, ¡°No, I¡¯ve never seen anything like that.  Witch women in the woods might use something like that for effect, but basic Alchemy is mostly it¡¯s just a matter of mixing the right herbs and distillation.  The most advanced work involves the use of spectroscopy.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s spectroscopy?¡±  Julie asked pronouncing each syllable slowly and carefully though she had the feeling that Demetrius was enjoying the questions.

    ¡°It means to shine a light on something, to see what it is,¡± Julie frowned and tilted her head to one side, ¡°Like something you wouldn¡¯t know about otherwise.  Like if you had a droplet of water or a droplet of oil. If we were at the U, I think Madam Druce might be able to tell you what sort of oil it was, and when it was made.¡±  He smiled warmly again at the mention of Madam Druce.

    ¡°Who is she?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s the head of the Alchemy department.  She¡¯s a really nice woman, very old, and very smart,¡± then he added, ¡°very kind to me.¡±

    Julie said, ¡°Well that didn¡¯t take hours to explain!  I don¡¯t know why Sevil acted like it would.¡±

    ¡°Well learning how to do it, is quite a different thing.¡±

    They spent the rest of their watch talking amiably to pass the time, and paying very little attention to their surroundings.  Neither realised how tired they were until Ravenhair, Toby, and Emile appeared, apparently to relieve them. Emile was anxious about where Gypsum was, and was having trouble resting.  Ravenhair told them that they should get their rest. Julie found it almost impossible to sleep. She replayed the conversation over and over in her mind, analyzing everything she said, until all of a sudden it was morning, and she was certain that Demetrius chased her all the way into her dreams.

    Julie was rummaging through her pack for the third time, trying to make something appear that wasn¡¯t so dirty or ridiculous as all this.  Delila was the only one left in the room, waiting for Julie to get dressed.

    ¡°Delila?¡±  Julie still felt proud at being able to use the secret name, she asked tentatively, ¡°Do you have anything else that I could wear?¡±

    Delila looked over her appraisingly, ¡°I might be able to scrounge something up,¡± she produced from her pack the shimmering bag, and started rummaging inside it.  Several weapons were produced, including a halberd, ¡°I really need to organize this!¡± Delila kept pulling out bits of armor until she finally got to clothing. Several outfits were produced, and she said, ¡°Try some of these on, but hurry.  I can smell breakfast!¡±

    Julie took her time trying on the clothes, grateful to be wearing something other than the hodgepodge she had been in for the last two days.  The black dress that she had been wearing was an ugly shade of grey now, and though she still appreciated her armor, without the chest piece it made her feel ridiculous.

    ¡°What do you think of this one?¡±  She was wearing a dark green tunic, and brown leather leggings.

    ¡°The tunic is great, but don¡¯t you think that the pants are a little loose?¡±

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t want to wear a dress.¡±

    Ravenhair started digging in the shimmering bag again, and produced a pair of white slacks and tossed them to Julie, ¡°Here, I was wearing these last time we were in the desert.¡±

    Julie quickly changed, and handed Delila the leather leggings back, ¡°This is great!¡±  She turned in a circle, and Delila grabbed the back of the tunic.

    ¡°Give me a second, need to lace this up.¡±  Julie felt a little like a doll, waiting to have her clothes put on her, and then gasped a little when she felt the wool tighten around her waist.

    Julie looked down at the handiwork, and felt very pleased with what she saw.  There was no mirror in the room, but what she could see of herself seemed much better.  She hugged Delila and started helping her put everything back in the shimmering bag.

    ¡°You certainly seem cheerful this morning!¡± Ravenhair proclaimed.

    Julie realised she had been humming while they were cleaning up, ¡°Oh, I was just thinking of something that Demetrius said last night.  He¡¯s so clever.¡±

    Ms. Ravenhair smiled knowingly, ¡°Yes, I s¡¯pose he is, growing up at the University and all.  Cute too.¡±

    ¡°So!¡±  Julie called back, handing her the heavy halberd, ¡°Anyone could see that!  He¡¯s also a very interesting person, and so kind. You should have heard how nicely he talked about Wendel.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that one¡¯s a real catch too, huh?¡±  Delila said, in a mocking tone.

    ¡°Who says I¡¯m trying to catch anyone?¡±  Julie was surprised at her defensive tone, and turned quickly starting towards the door.

    She had her hand on the handle when Delila called back, ¡°You forgot your pack,¡± when Julie turned around, Delila was grinning.

    <hr>

 Emile 10

    Over the foul smelling swamp, the sun rose, and with it the weary travelers.  Birds had been singing for more than an hour already, and Emile groggily rolled up the sleeping bag that she¡¯d kicked away from her in the night.  The ground here squelched beneath her feet, and as soon as she left the safety of the big canvas tent, mosquitoes started landing on her skin. She swatted them away irritably, and fell into the now painfully familiar routine.

    They were breaking camp for the fifth time, and Emile was growing suspicious.  Their stay at The Wizard¡¯s Staff felt like a lifetime ago.  It had only been nine days since her father cooked her breakfast, but it seemed like an eternity since she had felt safe.  Under the doctor¡¯s orders, Sevil, Toby, and Ravenhair had left to hunt down the wizards and mages that had fled from the University, but Emile was beginning to question everything the doctor said.

    Julie had insisted on accompanying Emile.  She claimed that she owed Emile her life and felt obligated to stay with her, but it felt like she wasn¡¯t very interested in spending time with Emile.  Her days were spent lagging behind with Demetrius, lost in deep conversation, punctuated by bursts of laughter.

    The five days of traveling seemed to have done Demetrius a world of good, his skin no longer had the sickly pallor to it, and even his hair seemed less greasy.  He was also smiling a lot more and no longer walked with his head down. Emile appreciated them both, and occasionally joined them in their discussions about magic and history, but as the days wore on, she felt more and more like she was intruding.

    Wendel was no comfort to anyone, least of all to himself.  He did the least amount of work possible, refusing to help set up tents, and always claiming that it was someone else¡¯s turn to take night watch.  Emile had tried to help him on the first day. She told him that he should cheer up, and he seemed willing enough to follow her advice, immediately.  However, within a matter of hours he seemed indignant again, more so even than he was before. After that, he did his best to avoid Emile, walking as far away from her and the rest of the group as possible.  There had been a heated argument on the third day, and Emile heard Wendel shout her name. She could not hear what the doctor had told him, but since then he had not spoken to anyone.

    Dr. Mendes was inscrutable.  Emile had trusted her completely when she said that they needed to find the source of the attack on Uriel before she could help her father.  However, as the days wore on, Emile was growing more and more frustrated with the lack of action. The doctor promised that they would arrive at Uriel today, and from there they would be able to ascertain the origin of the attack.

    Gypsum was the only one that Emile felt she could rely on completely.  The little dragon was growing extremely quickly, her head now level with Emile¡¯s when she stood on her hind legs.  Travelling meant hunting, and hunting filled Gypsum with joy. Emile relished her stories. Whenever she would return from a hunt, it was like Emile was doing the hunting herself.  Now Gypsum bounded up to the campsite, the rising sun illuminating the dragon¡¯s smooth, green wings. Emile ran off from the group to meet her, and caught the dragon in a warm embrace.  Images and emotions flooded Emile¡¯s mind, and she was shocked at what she saw.

    Strange desert images flowed into Emile¡¯s mind, and she was surprised to see that there was a clear line Gypsum had crossed from the swampy forest into the beginning of the desert.  It looked unnatural, like a line drawn in the sand with a stick. One side was murky swamp, and the other was white sand. Emile rubbed Gypsum¡¯s head affectionately, and ran back to tell Dr. Mendes.

    ¡°The desert¡¯s just up ahead!¡±  Emile said to the doctor who was now standing with Julie and Demetrius.  Wendel was holding himself apart from the group, as usual. It was hard to gauge the passage of time while Emile talked to Gypsum.  Apparently they had finished taking down the tent and packing everything up.

    ¡°Yes, the beginning of the Null Zone,¡± The doctor held Emile¡¯s pack out to her, ¡°I told you that we should be arriving in Uriel today, and I showed you on your map.¡±

    Emile took her pack and slung it over her shoulders, ¡°I know,¡± Emile felt slightly reassured that the doctor had at least been telling the truth about that, ¡°I guess I was just surprised to see it.  The way it¡¯s right next to the swamp. It¡¯s very strange.¡±

    The doctor looked from Emile to Gypsum and back again,  then said with a smile, ¡°Many things are strange, that¡¯s what makes life exciting,¡±

    Demetrius interjected, ¡°Actually, it¡¯s quite interesting how that came to happen,¡± everyone fell into step behind the doctor, heading in the direction that Gypsum had just come from, ¡°The null zone actually used to be very fertile farmlands.¡±

    Julie plied him to continue, ¡°Oh really?  What happened?¡±

    Wendel was keeping pace with the rest of the group, but walked a good distance apart from them.  He kept glaring angrily as Demetrius began to explain, ¡°There was a very powerful clan of wizards, whose towers were the last to fall,¡±  Emile noticed how enraptured Julie became whenever Demetrius would share his knowledge, ¡°It was unusual during the war for a clan to occupy more than one tower.¡±

    Dr. Mendes had never corrected him before, but she interrupted him now, ¡°That¡¯s not quite true,¡± she said, not looking back, ¡°I think that depends more on how you define a clan.¡±

    No one said anything, waiting for the doctor to continue.  Even Wendel seemed to be edging closer to the group, drawn by the sound of her melodious voice.  When she didn¡¯t say anything else, Julie asked, ¡°What do you mean, ¡®how you define a clan?¡¯¡±

    ¡°Let us take for an example not the famous Anasazi clan, whose Death Curses tore the land we are about to enter asunder, but rather two who are mere historical footnotes.  The tower of Feld and the tower of Byrne.¡± The were pushing through the mandrakes, making good time now, spurred on by the promise of being out of the gloom of the swamp, ¡°The Feld clan occupied a tower to the north east of here for generations.  They were powerful, in their own way, but unambitious. They wanted to maintain, not to expand. All of the research they were doing has been assumed by the University, and as far as I know, though they never had their tower dismantled, it stands simply as a monument to some sort of idiotic family pride.¡±

    ¡°The Byrne clan, however, was very ambitious.  They sought to control ever more land, expanding, always skirmishing with neighbors.  It is true that they occupied only one tower, but the land that served that tower grew by the day, the smallfolk falling under the boots of the Byrne wizards.  Caravans of gold and silver, mined under the cruel whips of abominations that the Byrne wizards set upon the people, streamed steadily to their tower, fueling their expansion.  If my memory serves, their tower lay to the west of the Feld tower. It was inevitable, therefore, that eventually the Byrne wizards would try to take the lands of Feld.¡±

    Emile was enraptured listening to the doctor, her worries obliviated by the joy of story telling.  The doctor continued, ¡°This was all well before the rise of the good king, and in those days, the occupants of every tower boasted mightily of their pride and prowess.  But the Feld wizards were no fools, they knew of the deeds of Byrne. They knew of the twisted abominations, born from earth and fire and twisting the life strands of man and beast.  The head of the Feld clan sent an emissary in secret, claiming that the clan Feld wished to join the clan Byrne.¡±

    Wendel had meandered his way close enough that it actually seemed he was walking with the group, he spoke now for the first time in days, ¡°There was no mention of this alliance in any of my classes.¡±  He sounded tentative, but seemed unable to stop himself from speaking.

    Demetrius echoed him, ¡°None of the history books mention it either.¡±

    Dr Mendes pressed on, neither slowing nor looking back, ¡°History is written by the winners.  The clan Feld still holds lands to this day, but where is the Byrne clan? And what of their tower?¡±

    Julie answered before anyone else could, ¡°I¡¯ve been to Feld keep, I¡¯ve seen their tower.  They¡¯re not doing very well there, I don¡¯t know if I¡¯d call them winners.¡± Her words sounded sad to Emile.

    ¡°Yes,¡± the doctor said, ¡°Barron is a weak ruler.  He was a weak ruler even before the wasting sickness took hold of him.  Simon would have been the better choice to bring around some semblance of order to those lands, but he took the king¡¯s coin.  There was a time when being an officer under the regime was a great honor.¡± Her voice was wistful, ¡°I digress, however. I was explaining about how ¡®clan¡¯ can be defined differently.  An emissary was sent, and the Byrne tower received her. She was apparently very convincing, explaining that the Felds wished to join the Byrnes.  This was not unheard of in those days, it is mostly just undocumented because of the pride still raging in the bloodlines of those old towers.  Everyone wants to be a bastion of independence, but no one stands truly alone.¡±

    ¡°It was so common, in fact, that there was a standard procedure.  The Byrne¡¯s were the being supplicated and thus in a show of good faith, the Felds granted the coordinates to their telereception room and let down their wards.  Battle ready wizards and their abominations flooded the Feld tower. Access to all of their research and a tour of their tower was given and finally satisfied that they had loyalty, the leader of the Byrne clan met with the Feld¡¯s leader and they signed a nonaggression treaty.¡±The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Julie stopped walking for a moment and said, ¡°That¡¯s it?  Just a treaty? Weren¡¯t they worried that the Byrne¡¯s would try to double cross them?¡±

    It was Wendel that answered, he seemed much more engaged than he had been since they left the inn, ¡°Oh, you can¡¯t break a magical contract.¡±

    Dr. Mendes laughed and said, ¡°True as that may usually be, the contract was broken.¡±

    Wendel and Julie asked at once, ¡°How?¡±

    Demetrius was the one that answered, and sounded strangely dismal, ¡°The good king.¡±

    Dr. Mendes picked up his thought, ¡°Correct.  King Hubert made an offer to the Felds. Although to be fair to him, he made the same offer to the Byrnes as well.¡±

    Wendel seemed positively jubilant now, by comparison to the past few days, ¡°That¡¯s right!  King Hubert sent out emissaries to the five towers closest to him. The Feld clan and the Sireadh clan were the first two to swear allegiance.  The emissaries from the other three towers never came back, and that was the beginning of the Unification.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Dr. Mendes said, ¡°Some argue that those were the only two towers who gave their allegiance freely, but if we consider the position that the Felds were in, perhaps there was no real choice for them at all.  By the time Hubert began his rise, generations had passed since the signing of the non aggression treaty. The Byrnes were still blood-bound to the conditions of the treaty, but as I am sure judge Gast can explain better than I ever could, there are ways around the wording of even the best written contract.  The Byrnes were constantly making more and more demands from the Feld lands. Their lust for power caused them to engage in a vicious battle westward. Their resources were stretched, and though theirs was a war of their own making, they demanded more and more from the Felds, and there was no choice but to submit.  The wizards at the Feld tower were forced into treacherous, often fatal, research. Their own supplies were diverted, and they were compelled to slave day and night, creating wicked weapons and enchantments. When the emissaries from Hubert arrived, it must have been like a rope tossed to a drowning man. Therefore, it is no surprise that they double crossed the Byrnes.¡±

    The story had entranced Emile.  She thought of the terrifying monsters in the Feld tower, supervising the creation of deadly weapons, and shuddered.  Dr. Mendes pronounced, ¡°Alas, I have allowed myself to fall victim to a tangent. Simply put, there were many such alliances, some much more symbiotic.  Demetrius was partially correct though, the Anasazi clan was almost unique in their construction of multiple towers.  I merely meant to say that if we consider alliances such as the Byrne-Feld alliance as a form of a larger clan, there were many clans that occupied multiple towers.¡±

    The doctor fell silent again, and Demetrius seemed to take it as a cue to continue where he had left off, turning to Julie and saying, ¡°The Anasazi clan occupied eleven towers in what is now the null zone, and-¡±

    Emile cut him off, ¡°But what about the contract!  How did they break it?¡±

    Dr. Mendes stopped walking finally, and turned back to answer, ¡°Hubert told them they had to break it.  The blood of many of the Felds boiled in their bodies, as per the terms of the agreement, but break it they did.  They turned the weapons they were making for the Byrne¡¯s on their allies, and attacked from within the Byrne¡¯s tower.  The attack was a complete surprise, and it was the first of many gruesome battles fought on the good king¡¯s orders. The Byrne line was completely destroyed, and nearly all of the Felds were eradicated,¡±  the doctor stared at the sky, the sun was well risen now, but heavy clouds had drifted in front of it casting a shadow on the land, ¡°Still, Hubert secured his objective, and after the destruction of the Byrne¡¯s tower, it was that much easier for him to impose his will on the other towers.¡±  She turned again, and started walking, but Emile stood stock still for a moment, considering the implication. It frightened her to think that the king sacrificed his first allies so callously.

    Julie lightly put her hand on Emile¡¯s back, and she let herself be pushed along.  Demetrius started his explanation about the formation null zone again, but Emile was hardly paying attention.  Death Curses were not a novel concept to Emile, everyone told their children bedtime stories about the terrifying effect of a tower wizard¡¯s last breath.  Each one was different, some creating fiery explosions, others supposedly ripping the very souls from any who were unfortunate enough to be in proximity.

    Demetrius was explaining how the Anasazi clan had concocted a chain reaction that was triggered if any of them were killed.  It was supposed to be a deterrent against attacking their towers, but apparently that had not stopped Hubert, and as a result the null zone was created.  Emile was only drifting in and out of the conversation, her mind kept circling back around to parts of the doctor¡¯s story. Everyone always referred to Hubert the First as the ¡®good¡¯ king, but was he?

    Distracted as she was, it did not seem to take very long to reach the edge of the swamp.  Just as Gypsum had shown her, it seemed to stop abruptly as though there was an invisible line that seperated life from death.  On one side there was a dense swampy forest filled with birds and insects, full of sound and motion. On the other, desolate white sands stretched as far as Emile could see.  Through her own eyes though, Emile could see a patchwork of tiny green plants in the distance that she had not noticed through Gypsum¡¯s vision.

    ¡°I thought you said nothing could grow here?¡±  Emile heard Julie ask Demetrius.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s what it said in the book, but I¡¯ve never been here before.¡±  Demetrius seemed just as surprised by the foliage.

    The doctor was still standing inside the boundaries of the swamp, and turned to address the group as a whole, ¡°The null zone is receding.  The town of Uriel would not have been able to exist inside of the null zone proper. Nothing grows there, and more importantly,¡± she turned to Wendel, ¡°Enchantments, spells, and wards do not work within.  I know that you understand that intellectually, but being inside is a different thing entirely. You will feel it when we enter.¡±

    ¡°Are you certain that we have to go inside?¡±  Wendel sounded nervous at the prospect.

    ¡°When we get to Uriel, I will finish my investigation, and we shall see.¡±  The doctor stepped out of the mud and into the sand.

    Travel became much easier now.  The clouds in the sky seemed to grow and grow as they went.  It was very flat land, and Emile could see far into the distance.  Before long she could make out tiny specks that grew and grew until they became the red walls of buildings.  The ground changed subtly as they approached Uriel, shifting from white to red, and the green shrubbery became denser, though still very scattered.  It was an eerie sight entering the tiny village, corpses littered the streets, most picked clean of their most tender flesh. The stench was overpowering.

    They walked into the town proper, and Emile noticed that Demetrius had stopped walking some ways back.  She turned to see if there was something the matter, and from a distance noticed that he was convulsing slightly.  Julie broke off from the group, and ran back to check on him. Emile followed her, concerned, noticing the look of disgust on Wendel¡¯s face.  As she passed him, she heard him mutter something under his breath about ¡®weakness¡¯.

    ¡°Demetrius?¡±  Julie was an arm¡¯s length away from him now, and reached out to caress his face.

    His voice was hitching as he spoke, ¡°I don¡¯t think I can stand to look at them, can you ask her if I have to?¡±  He turned away from the village, and stared back towards where they had come from.

    Emile didn¡¯t want Demetrius to cry, ¡°I¡¯ll tell her that you don¡¯t have to.¡±  She ran off back into the village to catch up with Dr. Mendes, passing the wretched bodies with indifference.  Poor man, she thought not about the corpse but about Demetrius.

    Dr. Mendes was kneeling with Wendel, carefully examining nearly invisible tracks in the sand when Emile approached her, ¡°I don¡¯t think Demetrius can come into the village, he¡¯s crying.¡±

    The doctor looked up, ¡°Tell him that he and Julie may keep watch outside the village then.¡±

    Wendel looked up smugly, ¡°They¡¯d only get in the way.¡±  Emile and the doctor both looked at him cooly, and he returned to making a show of examining the tracks in the sand.

    ¡°Like you¡¯re so much help!¡±  Emile chastised him, and then said to the doctor, ¡°I¡¯ll tell them, thank you.¡±

    She returned to the outskirts of the village, to find Demetrius sitting cross legged on the sand, Julie had an arm wrapped around his shoulder, ¡°The doctor Mendes says that you don¡¯t have to come into the village.  She says you two should keep watch out here.¡±

    Emile didn¡¯t know what she could do to help the doctor with her investigation, and it seemed wrong to stay with Julie and Demetrius outside the village.  She busied herself instead by exploring the town. There was no inn, which surprised her. The houses were all very small, and made of the same reddish stone, and after a while she got bored going through people¡¯s things.  She had been hoping to find a book to read or something, but there was almost nothing interesting in any of the houses. The sun set behind the dark clouds, and it was a very dark night in the overcast. When pressed, the doctor said that the tracks definitely came from the null zone, and that tomorrow they would make their way west.  No one seemed excited at the prospect.

    Emile was exhausted, she wanted to sleep in one of the houses, but the doctor insisted that the group stay together, and sleep in the big canvas tent again.  It would have been easy for Emile to press the issue, but she knew that the doctor was probably right, and so she tried to make herself as comfortable as possible in her sleeping bag.  Julie and Demetrius were going to take the first watch shift. Gypsum usually hunted at night, but she seemed anxious to stay by Emile¡¯s side, and so with the doctor and Wendel curled up in opposite corners of the tent, Emile fell asleep with her arms wrapped around the dragon¡¯s neck.

    The sounds of shouting and a struggle brought Emile to consciousness abruptly.  Gypsum was on her feet hissing. The tent was dark, but Emile could make out the doctor and Wendel struggling with two people she didn¡¯t recognize at first.  Then she realised who they were, though now they were wearing bizzare garb, ¡°Ludlow? Vidian? What are you doing here?¡±

    Wendel was struggling with Ludlow, who seemed to be wearing a cloak made of strangely tattered bits of cloth that hung all around him like feathers.  Light flared from the flap to the outside. Demetrius and Julie burst into the tent. Demetrius was holding a flickering lightstone, that illuminated the tent in flashes like lightning.  Emile could see now, that the doctor was easily pinning Vidian to the ground, holding her down by her wrist which was wrapped up behind her back awkwardly. Vidian was also wearing a feathery cloak, but her hood had been pulled back to reveal her sickly and beautiful face.

    ¡°You know these people?¡±  The doctor spoke very calmly, as if she was sitting down for tea rather than pinning a woman to the ground with one hand and her knee, ¡°Who are they?¡±

    ¡°They sold me the egg.  Gypsum¡¯s egg.¡±

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