by Guy Antibes
“The ever-lovely Yetti Haslia has returned. I think that is a positive change,” Whit said. The smile the pixie returned to him confirmed it.
Razz answered a knock on the door revealing Pin. He walked in and sat down beside Yetti. “How are you, my dear?”
“Recharged, but I’m still not entirely fine. The retreat was better than any in Ayce or Coria.”
“We have such places in Herringbone?” Fistian asked looking surprised.
“One outside of Herringbone covers the central part of Ayce. It is definitely inferior.”
“And Deechie? Does he know you’ve returned?” Pin asked.
Whit told him about the human absconding with their deposit money.
“That wasn’t a proper greeting,” Pin said.
“More than that,” Gambol said and then gave Pin the entire story of their trip.
Pin pursed his lips and intertwined his fingers. “So that is why Lulu has been offish. Deechie must have bribed him with the deposit money we left with the innkeeper.”
“But that means I’ve lost all my money!” Whit said. “He must not have expected us to return.”
“Or didn’t care,” Razz said. “You can’t judge him by civil behavior.”
Whit turned to Pin. “Is the king ready to see us?”
“Not quite,” Pin said. “I’m still working on it. You all look like you could do with a fine pixish meal. Why don’t we adjourn to the dining room?”
No one objected to Pin’s suggestion because that was what they were going to do anyway. The server brought ale for most. Yetti wanted some fruit wine like she had at the retreat, and Zarl asked for some as well. The orders were taken, and Fistian and Razz talked about their adventures with pixies on the road to Varetta’s temple.
Two servers passed them. Whit turned his head to follow their path and almost spit out the ale in his mouth. Deechie, Paros Porch, Barine, Sedge, and the rest of the rival team paraded into the inn and waited as a few tables were put together.
Deechie looked surprised for a moment, but he regained his usual scowl and sat with his back facing Whit’s group.
Pin was facing the new arrivals. “Greeb has arrived. He must be addicted to the ale as many are. I’m sure they aren’t staying here. Who are those with him?”
“The magic college’s team,” Argien said. “Deechie has an unlimited supply of gall.”
Sedge looked excited to see Whit and came over. “I’m thrilled you aren’t dead. We didn’t expect to see you here. Deechie said he thought you had perished on a trip to the Perisian hinterlands.”
Whit glanced at Barine who was perusing Whit’s team. When they made eye contact, she colored and turned away. Paros Porch looked embarrassed and managed the thinnest of smiles before saying something to Deechie.
Whit couldn’t express how he felt. Anger? Disappointment with Barine, Sedge, and Professor Porch? He certainly wasn’t elated to see old friends in a strange country. Deechie rose from his chair and walked slowly to their table. He stood by Gambol and addressed Pin.
“I heard you met with foul play,” Deechie said. “With you out of the expedition, I thought I’d lend what assistance I could to the College of Magic. I hope you aren’t upset.”
“I’m upset about losing my deposit money,” Whit said.
Deechie clicked his tongue. “That is unfortunate. The magic college team needed some emergency funds, so I used the money in their behalf. Be assured the College of Magic will reimburse you when you return to the University. When do you plan on setting off for Herringbone?”
“Emergency or not, the deposits were out of my personal funds and not the team’s. I will have to ask you to return my money,” Whit said.
Deechie shrugged. “Already spent, I’m afraid.”
Pin shook his head at Whit. It was evident the pixie didn’t want Whit to pursue the issue and perhaps the dining room of the inn wasn’t the right place, after all, but Whit’s anger got the better of him.
“Until the money is paid back, consider yourself a member of that team. We won’t be needing your services as an advisor until you return the money that you have stolen.”
Deechie smiled like the greasy creature he was. “Then I warn you that you stand a good chance at disqualification.” He turned on his heel and returned to the magic college’s table.
“I didn’t like that smile,” Zarl said. “He is a person without honor.”
Whit sighed. “At least he is good at something.”
Argien and Razz were the only ones amused by Whit’s remark.
“Enjoy your meal,” Pin said to the table before turning to Whit. “We will meet with the prime minister tomorrow. Are you up to it?”
Whit nodded. “As long as it will help us get an audience with King Quiller.”
“It will,” Pin said with a grin.
~
Pin asked Gambol and Argien to accompany Whit and himself to Prime Minister Ornetta Carlia’s offices. Whit knew the way perfectly by now. They waited for an hour before a functionary escorted them to a meeting room. The prime minister waited with another pixie woman.
“Ornetta, as ever, it is nice to see you this morning,” Pin said as they walked in.
“Nicer for you than it is for me. I brought along—”
“Hanny Daslia. How long has it been?” Pin asked.
“Not long enough,” the woman said with almost a sneer.
Whit wasn’t so sure the meeting would be a success after withstanding an insult from each woman.
“Sit. I agreed to this meeting because Lullan Gastian seems to have cast his lot with your rivals,” the prime minister said.
Whit didn’t want to be in either camp, since he’d rather get permission from the king. However, any influence was more than they had currently and at least the relationship gave them the second highest-level contact they could get.
“Thank you for your support,” Pin said.
“I haven’t granted anything yet,” Ornetta said.
Hanny Daslia leaned forward. “Exactly what are you seeking to accomplish in Perisia. The prime minister has told me, but I’d like to hear it from you.”
Whit thought Hanny Daslia was a very good-looking pixie. She was probably a few years older than Yetti, but she carried a more serene intelligence around her. He gave Hanny a quick description of the expedition contest and of the Augur’s Eye.
“I’ve never heard of such a device. Have you, Ornetta?”
The prime minister nodded. “I thought it was a legend, but it is real.” Ornetta glanced at Whit. “Our Aycean friends found documents in the museum next to the main library.”
“Lulu’s nephew is the curator,” Hanny said. She looked at Whit. “Consider that everything you found in that museum is now in the hands of the other group.”
“I didn’t hold out much hope for confidentiality, anyway,” Whit said.
“You’ve been trailing us?” Gambol said.
“From the time you crossed from Festor into Perisia,” Hanny Daslia said. “We wanted to make sure your motives didn’t involve colluding with enemies of the state.”
Whit suddenly felt hot. If they were followed, then the prime minister knew they had met with Ritta’s rebels.
“We have met some people that might not agree with all that King Quiller does,” Gambol said.
The gnome had thought the same thing. Whit looked at Pin who nodded. It appeared he wasn’t opposed to telling the prime minister about Ritta.
“And?” Ornetta asked.
“They wanted us to sign a document committing us to the other side.”
“And the other side is?”
“The interior minister’s group,” Whit said. “You must know that we refused.”
“We didn’t, but if that is true it changes the vector of our conversation,” Hanny Daslia said. “You want an audience with the king?”
Whit’s head began to spin. Ornetta Carlia knew they wanted to talk to the king, but he didn’t like running arou
nd in circles like this.
“They do,” Pin said.
“Let’s start with a courtesy visit,” Hanny said.
“I can agree to that,” Whit said.
“You would actually say no to my offer?” Hanny said, as if rejection was out of the question.
“I’m more than happy to meet with the king under any circumstances,” Whit said.
“That is so gracious of you,” Hanny said sarcastically. She stood. “We will let you know when, but it will likely be tomorrow. Be prepared to be called to the palace at any time.”
Everyone else stood, and Whit’s group was ushered out of the prime minister’s building. Whit turned to look at the royal palace across the small square that was part of the palace grounds.
“We can talk about our meeting in your room,” Pin said. “There are too many ears eager to listen to us.”
Argien, who had been silent the entire time laughed. “We are such small fish. Who would be interested in us?”
“Shall I tick them off?” Pin asked. “Ritta, Deechie, Porch, Lulu, Ornetta, and Hanny. I say her name separately since she has always had her own agenda.”
“Why can’t we talk here?” Argien looked around the square.
“There are pixie spells that enhance hearing, young man,” Pin said.
Argien nodded. “That kind of spell isn’t unknown among the angels.”
Pin snorted. “Then let’s be off. I’m eager to drain a tankard of your inn’s finest ale.”
After a short walk, they sat in the inn’s common room to get their drinks and trooped up to Whit’s room, picking up Yetti and Zarl.
Gambol, who dragged Fistian and Razz in with him, described the meeting.
“Who is Hanny Daslia?” Yetti asked.
“Ornetta’s fixer,” Pin said. “She is called a security assistant, but all that means is Hanny does whatever Ornetta assigns her. Hanny is so good that she operates on her own. I call her the prime minister’s prime minister. We have a checkered past, but it doesn’t go back too far since she is so young.
“What is young?” Zarl asked.
“Around thirty,” Pin said.
“Is she pretty?” the ogre asked looking sideways at Yetti, smiling.
Yetti hit Zarl in the stomach with her elbow. “Of course she is pretty. She is a pixie woman.”
“Unusually pretty,” Pin said with a grin.
Whit raised his eyebrows. Were Zarl and Yetti developing a special friendship? If so, it was an odd one. Zarl was twice as tall as Yetti and had the opposite demeanor as the pixie.
“We’ve been followed ever since we arrived in Perisia,” Whit said. “They knew about my visit to the museum and about Ritta’s diverting us on our way to Garri.”
“Won’t we get into trouble with the rebels?” Zarl asked.
“I’m not so sure,” Pin said. “We didn’t tell them anything, I think, that they didn’t already know.”
“But the location of the manor…” Argien said.
“If they were following us, Hanny’s people have already found them. Ritta’s rebels are a large enough organization that their existence can’t be kept secret,” Pin said.
“We will have to deal with any fallout when it happens,” Gambol said. “Our immediate need is what to do if we get an audience with King Quiller.”
“Hanny said it is a courtesy meeting,” Argien said. “That means we can’t ask for permission to remove the Eye artifacts?”
Pin shrugged. “It’s better for me not to be in attendance the next time you meet him,” the pixie said, “but I can accompany you to the palace. You just have to restrain yourselves from asking the king questions. Let him do all the asking and you respond. If he asks you why you wanted to meet him since your first meeting, tell him you wanted to give him an update.”
“If we don’t ask, then we won’t violate our promise to Hanny Daslia? Isn’t that a little sneaky?” Whit asked, but then he thought on the situation for a bit. “I can do that. If we get the call tomorrow, we should make sure our clothes are presentable.”
With that the meeting disbanded, and Pin stayed behind after the others left Whit’s room.
“Deechie was very busy while you were gone,” the pixie said. “He might have already talked to King Quiller, again. What will he likely have said to the king?”
“Lies. Deechie doesn’t have any sense of honor. I will have our documentation with me just in case,” Whit said. “We are both authorized by Herringbone University to carry out our expeditions. Deechie can say our authorization was revoked, but unless he has documentation to that effect, I can show him that he is a liar.”
“And if he has the documentation? From what you people tell me, something like that isn’t beneath the magicians,” Pin said.
“Can they be that dishonest?” Whit asked.
“You are in a better place to answer that.”
“I’ll document all the times Deechie has tried to sabotage our project,” Whit said.
Pin pursed his lips. “That won’t be effective against the king. It will be your word against Deechie’s.”
“I’m not doing it for King Quiller, but for the head of Herringbone University when we return to Herringbone.”
“If you think that will help, then go ahead. I’m off to my lodgings to see if a message has come from the king.”
Whit let the pixie out of his room before he sat down and began to write every little thing that Deechie had done. Stealing the deposit money and cancelling their rooms was at the top of the list, but Whit was writing the final version. If they couldn’t jettison Greeb Deechie as their advisor, there would be more entries before they returned to Ayce.
Chapter Eighteen
~
P in brought the summons to group breakfast the next morning. They had an audience for ten minutes at midday in the king’s dining room.
Pin frowned. “We get only a portion of the king’s attention,” the pixie said. “He will be eating while we talk. Ten minutes isn’t a very long time.”
Whit groaned along with the rest of the team. “Then my planned presentation will have to be cut down.”
“How long did you expect?”
Whit took a deep breath to counter his disappointment. “Half an hour with another bit for questions. I was hoping for an hour.”
“You wouldn’t get that much time under the best of circumstances,” Pin said. “Break down your pitch to five minutes. Your goal should be to answer a few of the king’s questions.”
Whit nodded. “Something provocative?”
Pin laughed. “Not so much that the king will dismiss you prematurely.”
Whit frowned. “Can we all come? I want to show King Quiller that we come from all the folk of Fortia.”
Pin examined the summons. “There appear to be no restrictions, but if you introduce everyone, that will take a few minutes of your time.”
“I won’t introduce them, then,” Whit said, “just Gambol as our advisor.”
“Don’t do that,” Gambol said. “That leaves you open to Deechie refuting Gambol’s position.”
Whit’s expectation of the audience was diminishing by the second. He had hoped this would be the time to get the blessing of the king and head into the field to start searching. They had wasted weeks in Perisia as it was.
Later in the morning, Pin and Gambol inspected everyone’s outfits, and Pin made Yetti change into something less colorful. Two carriages rolled up, and they climbed in for the short drive to the palace.
Pin accompanied them into the king’s domain of the palace grounds and remained in the vast greeting hall once the group’s escort had arrived. Whit was ready to follow when he turned around at a tap on his shoulder. He looked into the devious eyes of Greeb Deechie.
“You didn’t tell me we were meeting with the king today,” Deechie said.
“You aren’t invited,” Whit said.
“Oh, but I was.” Deechie reached into his coat and pulled out an invitation tha
t looked the same as Whit’s. It was addressed to Greeb Deechie, advisor to the Whit Varian expedition.
Whit didn’t see a way out. He looked behind but couldn’t see Pin anywhere.
“Can’t we leave him behind?” Gambol asked.
Whit was out of his element. He looked at Argien who nodded. Razz shrugged. The others were still following the escort. “We don’t have much time, so stay silent. Advisors shouldn’t be the ones talking, the leader is. Your invitation says it is my expedition. King Quiller will be expecting to hear from me,” Whit said, not knowing if what he said was true, but he at least had to tell Deechie not to talk.
They continued up wide stairs and through a guarded archway. In a moment, they stood at a guarded door.
“You have a few minutes,” Deechie’s escort said, getting a nod from his counterpart leading Whit’s group.
“I can’t believe the nerve that you have,” Gambol said to Deechie.
“I am nerveless,” Deechie said, smiling greasily. “It is a quality much admired by my magician peers.”
Whit didn’t believe that for a second, but then he had to have sponsors within the College of Magic. Whit went over the little presentation that he had memorized, ignoring Deechie’s conversation with Gambol. Everything stopped when the doors opened.
“You may go in. Bow to the king as soon as you reach his dining table,” one of the escorts said.
The dining room was set up like a small court room with an ornate table facing the doorway. Two guards flanked the table. Whit led the group in and bowed when they faced the king.
Deechie immediately stepped forward. “I ask your forgiveness for bothering you, but my group of adventurers wanted to thank you for their experiences in Perisia before they returned to Ayce.” He turned to the astonished group. “Bow to the king to give him your appreciation.”
The king held up the drumstick from a large fowl. A trickle of fat ran from the corner of his mouth. “I am disappointed in you, Greeb Deechie. I was warned that you might speak in behalf of the group when they might not be in agreement with you.” The king looked at Whit. “What do you say, Whit Varian?”
“You have not received accurate information. We have no intention of leaving Perisia at present. We have obtained permissions from both the prime minister and the minister of the interior to search for ancient artifacts and have come to meet your majesty before we begin our quest in earnest,” Whit said. He wanted to go on, but Deechie interrupted him.
