First Draw

by Tim Moon

  “What can you tell me about Lurch and Myra?” Jaron asked.

  Cyprus leaned against the bars of his cage. “Both are formidable. You will have a difficult time defeating them.”

  “Thanks,” Jaron said sarcastically. “Tell me what you know. It may help.”

  “Perhaps.” Cyprus shrugged and then sighed. “You made a promise and I would like to benefit from that. There are still many things I wish to accomplish in this life and dying here is not one of them.”

  “Thanks, it will go easier with your help,” Jaron said.

  “The first thing you should know is that Lurch and I have something in common.” Cyprus tilted his head to the side and brushed back his fur with one paw. Nestled against his throat was a band of silver metal carved with intricate symbols.

  “What is that?”

  “This is a slave collar. It negates my magic, rendering me mundane.”

  “You and me both,” Jaron said wistfully. If there was one thing he loved about fantasy role-playing games, it was magic. And dragons, loot and leveling… Okay, there was a lot to love about fantasy RPGs. If he had the chance to acquire that kind of power, he was going to study magic like a true academic.

  “It also prevents me from harming my handler as they’re called.” Cyprus’ nose wrinkled. “Which in my case is Myra. So, all I can lend is moral support. Of course, if you can get the key to unlock my collar, I will join you and lend my aid such that it is.”

  “If you and Lurch both have a collar on why is he out there and you’re in here? She could have you out there doing menial chores or something.”

  “Observant,” Cyprus said with approval. “For one, his collar is of a higher level. It includes inscriptions for domination.”

  Jaron gave him a blank look.

  “That means he is not acting of his own free will. He is compelled to do her bidding,” Cyprus clarified.

  “Damn.” Jaron stroked his chin. “That must be awful. There were a few times during our trip here that she seemed to flirt with him.” He made a sour expression and shook his head.

  “And given that he is not the human you first saw you understand why he is her companion.”

  Jaron nodded once and then said, “Huh?”

  “She has a voracious appetite. And not just for children’s flesh.”

  “Oh. OHHH!” Jaron’s face screwed up in disgust. “That’s awful.”

  Cyprus chuckled and nodded.

  “Can you pick the lock on your collar if we find something to use?” Jaron asked.

  “They can only be removed with the key, there is no other way. The inscriptions prevent such tampering.”

  “Where is the key?”

  “Myra keeps it hung on a rafter beside the fireplace. On the left side.” Cyprus winced and gave a small shrug. “I have only glimpsed it once, so I cannot be sure it is still there. She watches like a hawk during feeding times and punishment for wandering eyes is severe.”

  “You mean she takes you out of the cage to feed you?” Jaron could hardly believe she would be so foolish.

  “Yes, once a day she will take me out to the room to eat and stretch. I’d wager she will do the same with you. She says it makes for better meat. I did not argue the point since standing up and walking out there is, sadly, the highlight of my day.”

  “Huh,” Jaron said, his mind raced with ideas and questions. “What about the kids?”

  “She feeds them as a group, presumably because they can do little to threaten her.”

  “Is Lurch in the room while you’re eating?”

  “Usually.”

  Jaron grinned.

  Cyprus looked doubtfully at him. “Lurch is a massive beast and Myra is a powerful witch in the comfort and safety of her own home. Even alone she is a formidable enemy.”

  “How do I defeat her then?”

  “Let’s go over what I know about her,” Cyprus said thoughtfully, stroking his beard. “Despite her age, she can move quickly. I have seen her cover short distances quickly and the house is nothing if not small. She can use magic obviously, she’s quite a gifted illusionist. I’m certain she can use weapons but have never witnessed it.”

  Jaron frowned.

  “Everyone knows the best way to kill a mage is up close with good steel,” Cyprus said. “That is the way mundanes have killed mages for millennia. If you can get a hand on the kitchen knife, you might have a decent chance. Unfortunately, while you’re eating, you will only have access to a wood spoon and bowl.”

  Jaron cursed.

  “All the food is pre-cut, eliminating the need for the knife,” Cyprus said with a shrug, chuckling at Jaron’s response. “The main unknown and biggest threat —literally— is Lurch. Presumably your plan is to wait for him to leave the room, yes?”

  “Yeah, that seems like my best option. Are there any possible weapons in the room other than the kitchen knife?” Jaron asked.

  “There is a broom-”

  “A flying broom?” Jaron asked excitedly.

  Cyprus opened his mouth, then closed it. He cleared his throat and shook his head with an expression that made Jaron feel foolish. A few of the children snickered. They had been surprisingly quiet during the whole conversation. Jaron saw they were listening intently though.

  “The broom handle could be used as a club or staff,” Cyprus said. “There is usually a pot for cooking above the oven. You may find it’s too hot to touch though.”

  The broom handle sparked an idea so Jaron asked, “If I use the broom handle as a stake and stab her in the heart that will kill her, right?”

  Cyprus paused and arched an eyebrow at him. “I imagine a stake through the heart would kill most people, no?”

  Jaron tried to fight the flush that rushed to his face as the children snickered again. He was too excited and needed to get control of his mouth, so he didn’t keep blurting out stupid questions. “Well, yeah. But for vampires, you know, it’s part of the requirements to put them down for good, right?”

  “I see. I had not considered that.”

  That’s right, Jaron thought, feeling redeemed.

  “I don’t believe she is undead or living dead,” Cyprus said. “So, there may not be an extra effect from using a stake. Feel free to stake her in the heart though. If it doesn’t kill her then at the very least, it will disrupt her spell casting. That by itself would give you an advantage and more time to finish the job.”

  “Hmm. Okay.” Jaron made a mental note about spell disruption. That had been a good strategy in other fantasy games he had played.

  “In fact, do not let her cast if at all possible.” Cyprus held up a finger. “And remember, if you get the key, toss it in here as soon as you can. Then I will be able to aid you with my magic.”

  “Should I try to free Lurch too?”

  “No,” Cyprus said firmly without hesitation. “Doing so would be a grave error. He is a minotaur and they are deadly in the best of circumstances.”

  “He wouldn’t be happy to be free?” Jaron asked.

  “Even if he is freed of her control, he will likely kill you simply to satisfy his rage at having been imprisoned regardless of the fact that you did not imprison him.”

  “That would be ungrateful.”

  “His kind are not known for being gracious,” Cyprus said with a shrug.

  Jaron wasn’t convinced but he didn’t know enough to argue the point. He would take Cyprus’ advice until he learned more. Groaning, Jaron tried to stretch his back which ached from being hunched over. There wasn’t enough room to stretch out, so he lay on his back with his legs bent.

  “If you intend to unleash a minotaur, please free me first. I do not wish to stick around for that.” Cyprus grinned.

  Jaron chuckled as he adjusted his position. Laying in a diagonal line from corner to corner, gave him a little more room than any other position. He stared at the ceiling of his cage and noticed that the ceiling in his neighbor’s cage was carved with a surprisingly ornate design.
r />   “Did you do that?” Jaron asked, pointing at the artwork.

  “I grow bored,” Cyprus said. He let out a heavy sigh and put his feet up. “So I add a little day by day.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “An artist always enjoys it when others appreciate their work,” Cyprus said, pride in his voice. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “So, my friend. How did she catch you?”

  “I was starving and desperate.” Jaron chuckled wryly. “I practically ran into her open arms.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah.” Jaron rubbed his stomach, the bread had really helped to settle it, but he was still ravenous and the green skull icon remained. “When do we eat around here anyway?”

  “Soon,” said one of boys, gleefully clapping his hands.

  “Good. I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse,” Jaron said.

  “Aww, not a horsy!” Sabrina shrieked.

  The piercing sound make him flinch which caused him to rip a loud fart. That made the kid on the other side of Jaron’s cage burst out laughing.

  A chorus of giggles and “Ewwws!” went around the room. One of the girls held her nose while she laughed. Even Jaron couldn’t help laughing. Cyprus began a meowing-laugh that made Jaron laugh harder and farted again. The whole thing was utterly ridiculous and yet surprisingly entertaining.

  By the time the laughter died down, Jaron was wiping away tears, and just like that, they all became friends.

  11

  Jaron had each of the children introduce themselves. Their names were as varied as their accents and ethnicities. From oldest to youngest, the boys were Oubin, Silvano, and Kwang; and the girls were Darya, Chandi, Sabrina, and Zola.

  Jaron started to collect information about the orphanage and the shady management when the door clanked and swung open. Silence fell over the captives.

  A hulking form entered the room. Thick, shaggy legs with hoofed feet stopped in front of Jaron’s cage. The beast leaned over and peered at him.

  Jaron stared wide-eyed at the strange sight. He had only caught a glimpse before he’d been knocked out. Seeing the creature right in front of his face was unsettling. A freakin’ minotaur! He never would have guessed he’d see such a thing.

  The beast narrowed his eyes at Jaron and then turned its head to scrape one horn across the bars, which made an awful clang-clang-clang. The minotaur’s mouth did something that resembled a grin, showing off surprisingly sharp teeth. Those were not the teeth of an herbivore. Lurch huffed and stood to open the door to Cyprus’ cage.

  “Hope to see you again,” Cyprus said with a wry smile. Then he crawled out and stood up, groaning at the effort of stretching his legs out. “If I don’t come back, please find a bard and let them know what became of Cyprus Kaedari.”

  Jaron scooted along the edge of his cage, watching them go. “I will.”

  He quickly analyzed Lurch again, but the only difference was his race.

  Cyprus began to sing a song as he hobbled out of the room.

  When the door slammed shut, Jaron felt a slight rush of panic. He yanked on the bars of his cage again and then took a deep breath, he tried to calm his nerves so he could think. He would figure this out. Slowly opening his eyes, Jaron chose to focus his attention on the information he had been collecting about the children. He wanted to know how Myra was collecting children from way out here in the swamp.

  “So, Sabrina, you were saying?” Jaron prompted her.

  Like she had mentioned before, poor little Sabrina had fallen victim to one of the oldest child kidnapping scams around — the lost pet. The others had been sold by their orphanage caretaker under the guise of being sent to families in the country.

  Silvano said other children from the orphanage had been sold to Myra before them. Based on the stories he had heard about what Myra and Lurch did, Silvano had initially been excited to be selected. Silvano and Kwang were told they would both be going to a wealthy couple in a neighboring town who could not have kids of their own. When they ended up bound and gagged in burlap sacks their enthusiasm had died.

  The ploy sickened Jaron. To dangle every orphan’s dream before them and then so cruelly rip it away was heartless. Had the orphanage known how the kids were really being used? It sounded sketchy on the face of it. Prospective parents would surely want to pick the kids themselves. Why involve a middleman in the process?

  The situation with the orphanage presented a problem. Since he couldn’t trust them to take the kids, Jaron had to figure out what the hell was he going to do with seven children after freeing them. He had been given an opportunity to enjoy a level of freedom and adventure that his life as a soldier during wartime had rarely offered. He intended to use his time in Drezkarn to travel and become a renowned adventurer, not become a glorified babysitter.

  First things first, Jaron thought with a heavy sigh. I have 99 problems and a bitch is one — Myra Bathory.

  The music reference took him down a rabbit hole. He loved classic music and even some of the ancient works. He briefly wondered if he could become successful covering songs from real life. The thought of becoming Drezkarn’s first music megastar made him smile.

  But it quickly faded. There was no time for nonsense like that when he had to figure out how to kill a powerful swamp hag by himself with no magic and no weapons. Jaron smirked. What could possibly go wrong?

  12

  Cyprus returned about an hour later. Quite some time for eating a meal, Jaron thought.

  As Cyprus entered and ducked into his cage, he whispered to Jaron. “The key is there.”

  Jaron gave a short nod.

  Lurch opened Jaron’s cage and he felt a tingle of unease as the minotaur reached inside. Jaron pushed to the back of his cage, but Lurch grabbed his ankle and hauled him out with one hand.

  Jaron skidded across the cage floor and grunted when he hit the floor.

  “Whoa, dude!” Jaron shouted. The loincloth bunched into the worst wedgie he’d ever experienced. “I can get out by myself,” he snapped as he got to his feet with a groan and freed the wedgie, glaring at the minotaur the whole time.

  Now that they were face-to-face, he could see the collar on Lurch’s neck that Cyprus had mentioned. It did look a little different. Anger flashed in Lurch’s eyes and he nudge Jaron towards the door with bared teeth.

  Jaron’s legs tingled with pain and pleasure at being able to fully extend. The cage was not built for someone of his size. Then he realized how idiotic that sounded. No one should be put in a cage, especially children.

  Just another reason to open a can of whoop-ass on this bitch, Jaron thought.

  Exiting the detention room, he balked at the sight of Myra. Seeing her again was no less shocking than the first time. Lurch shoved him forward as she leered at him, seemingly unconcerned by his revulsion.

  The table was set with food. His stomach squirmed at the thought of eating her food. There was no telling what she might try to serve him. Each breath brought with it a savory scent that made it difficult to maintain his resolve though. His stomach growled at him to gulp the entire bowl in one go.

  “Sit,” Myra said, gesturing at the bench.

  When Jaron didn’t move, Lurch put a giant four fingered hand on his shoulder and pressed him down. Still weakened from his illness, Jaron’s legs gave out and he landed with a thud. He sat on the bench and stared at the bowl of mysterious soup.

  Lurch took up position behind him. Jaron could feel the minotaur’s eyes on him. He glanced back to scowl at him and immediately regretted it. Sitting down placed his face at an unfortunate and inappropriate height. Lurch’s pants were skinny jeans tight, making them rather…bulgy. What the hell was Lurch thinking? Not only did they look fucking stupid — think of the children, man!

  Forever scarred, Jaron spun back around and faced the hag. The look in her eyes sent a shiver down his spine.

  “Eat,” Myra commanded. “You need to regain your strength. You ar
e naught but skin and bones.”

  Jaron paused for only a moment, knowing that if he acted belligerent Lurch was more likely to linger behind him. He couldn’t defeat them both at the same time. He had to be compliant but not enough to arouse suspicion. Picking up the wooden spoon, he stirred the stew suspiciously.

  Curls of steam rose from the rich broth and chunky contents. Jaron inspected the chunks as casually as he could. Although they appeared to be normal vegetables like potatoes, carrots and whatnot, his mind raced with questions. What, or who, might be in the stew? How many others had used this spoon to eat their last meal? Now that he saw the house for what it truly was, it was clear that cleanliness and sanitation were not high on Myra’s priority list. He swallowed hard as he built up the nerve to take a bite. Not quite ready, he opted for a delaying tactic.

  “Please, ma’am, may I have some water?” Jaron croaked. “I’m awfully parched.” He reached up and rubbed his throat.

  Myra narrowed her eyes at him. He did his best to look earnest and after a moment she looked at Lurch and ordered him to fetch clean water.

  The beast bumped Jaron as he turned to do her bidding. On “accident”, Jaron was sure. Maybe Cyprus was right. Maybe he wouldn’t free that asshole after all.

  Gritting his teeth, Jaron leaned low over the bowl and pretended to take a sip. Most of it dribbled down his chin as he sat up, grunting in contentment. Myra’s eyes widened and a smile pulled at the corners of her crooked mouth. It was odd to see the expression of pride on her disgusting face. Why did she care what he thought of the food? He glanced at it suspiciously, wondering if she cast an illusion on it to make it appear normal but, it was really a bowl full of maggots and diced meat from her last victim. How fucked up would that be?

  “What kind of soup is this?”

  “Vegetable soup,” Myra said. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s surprisingly good,” Jaron said.

  Lurch returned and slammed the cup of water down in front of him. Half of the contents sloshed out. Some of it landed on Jaron’s hand. Myra hissed and smacked a hand on the table.