by G Clatworthy
“And this is protection, the same as the charm you purchased earlier. It works the same and the same word “sheld” will put up the same barrier. As you have two of the same enchantments, the barrier will be doubly hard to penetrate but will last the same amount of time.”
The final rune glowed white and as I touched it. It seemed cold even in the heat of the forge.
“This is ice. Say “rhew” and the blade will become like frost. Good for breaking through heat resistance or cooling your drinks,” as I said the word, the blade did indeed seem to acquire a coating of ice.
Against my previous advice, the elf touched the blade then immediately withdrew his hand, shaking it in pain.
“Good work,” he commented. I was amazed at the compliment and satisfied myself with a grunt of acknowledgment as I sheathed the sword in a leather scabbard the same shade of green as the wrappings on the hilt.
I held it out in two hands to him, a traditional dwarfish gesture acknowledging the gifting of a powerful weapon with respect to an equal. He solemnly held out his two hands palm up to receive the sword, either knowing the custom or feeling like it was somehow the right thing to do.
After receiving the sword, he looked at the beltloop on the scabbard and the thick belt he was wearing with his jeans. He looked confounded for a second before placing the sword back down on my workbench and starting to unfasten his belt buckle.
My eyebrows shot up before I could stop them and he transitioned from slightly embarrassed and awkward to arrogant in a moment, giving me a salacious grin as he removed his belt. Then he turned his attention to threading the sword onto the thick leather.
“It’s illegal to carry magical weapons without a permit you know,” I stated the obvious. It wasn’t illegal to make or sell the weapons but their owners had to have a permit. I should have checked before making the sale, or at least before he’d strung it onto his belt. Damned if I was going anywhere near his trousers to try to remove it.
“I have a permit,” he replied haughtily, not offering to show it to me, “besides, I have magic,” he spoke a word in Elvish and started walking out of the forge and across the shop. As he approached the door, the sword disappeared from my sight.
Invisibility…maybe I should start adding that enchantment as standard, I thought, before the business dwarf in me added, or as an extra cost.
He left the shop, still doing up the buckle, and spoke suggestively over his shoulder.
“Thank you for your… services, Amethyst half-dwarf.”
Elvish cul I cursed in Dwarfish, the best language for cursing or swearing of any kind, as I glimpsed the last remaining customers walking through the Arcade. They had obviously heard his comment and were looking with curious eyes in my direction. I firmly shut and locked the door. I was definitely done for tonight.
After he’d left, and I’d calmed down, I pulled off my goggles. I wound my hair into two sturdy plaits and twined them together, the only style my thick half dwarven hair was able to handle without copious amounts of hair product. A quick glance in the mirror that my customers used showed I was presentable even if I did still have a silhouette of the goggles etched around my eyes.
I strode into the forge and petted Errol on his head, scratching behind his small wing shaped ears.
“Good job tonight boy,” I assured him and he leaned into the scratch. “I’m going out now to see Aloora, see you later,” He gave a contented grunt and settled down. I had thought a wyrm would be a good guard for my shop, given their reputation for being snappish and setting fire to things but Errol was always loving and affectionate, rarely growling and only blowing flames when I needed his help with my forging.
I gave him one last tickle behind the ear and strode back through my shop to grab the red woollen coat that I had hung on the back of my chair behind the counter. I rarely needed it as I ran hot, thanks to my dwarfish blood but there had been a chill in the spring air recently.
I enjoyed putting my coat on as always. The lining slipped across my back and shoulders and the lambswool was soft against my hands and cheek as I flattened the lapels down. I did up the sturdy, black fabric buttons, and as I looked again in the mirror on the shop floor, I knew that it flattered my curves and had been worth the money I’d spent on it on an impulse to shut my mother up during a long shopping trip across Cardiff. After all, a good coat was an investment, as mother would say, and it was. I looked presentable and buying it had satisfied my mother enough to stop her nagging me about getting something respectable to wear…that day anyway.
I walked out of the door and stepped into the coolness of an empty Royal Arcade. I took a breath and pulled the metal shutters down on my shop, locking it both with the mundane heavy-duty padlocks and the magical locks learned from my father. Once I was sure that everything was secured, I marched to the pub where I had arranged to meet Aloora, my heavy-soled leather boots causing my footsteps to echo on the tiled floor of the Arcade.
Chapter 2
I walked briskly to the Rummer Tavern, one of our favourite pubs. It wasn’t far but the March air had a cool, spring chill to it, reminding those of us foolish enough to be outside that winter was still close and hadn’t yet left Wales.
I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my expensive red coat and hunched my shoulders against the wind, glad at least that it wasn’t raining, as I skilfully wound my way through the puddles that lay on the ground from a previous spring shower.
I was glad of the bright streetlights that illuminated the way as the spring nights fell early here, although my dad had passed on his night vision to me. Dwarves were very good at seeing in the dark, having spent millennia living underground. Nowadays only the strict dwarves lived in mines and all the ones I knew had adapted well to living in houses, although they were always keen to avoid thatched cottages for fear of perpetuating stereotypes from cartoons.
Soon I was at the Rummer and the warm, yellow lights spilled onto the grey pavement, welcoming me in and promising relief from the chill night air.
I walked in and was instantly too warm in my thick coat and leather corset style top. I scanned the room, looking for Aloora. I didn’t see my gnomish friend but I did spot an empty table. These were at a premium in the cosy pub so I marched over to it and sat down quickly on a wobbly stool before the regulars standing at the bar spotted it.
I took my coat off, earning a couple of hungry looks from some of the other customers. I groaned inwardly. I was in no mood to be hit on and regretted my choice of top, which showed off my ample breasts. Normally Aloora and I would have laughed and maybe even welcomed the attention but tonight all I wanted was a couple of drinks and maybe something to eat with my friend, when she arrived.
I stuffed my coat onto the spare seat at the small wooden table to dissuade any attention and rang Aloora. No answer. I thought about leaving a message but she didn’t listen to them so I texted her instead.
Hey Ally, I’ve got a table at the back of Rummer. See you soon x
I looked up and considered the bar. If I left the table it might be taken, but I was thirsty and, after my encounter with the elf, in need of alcohol. I cursed inwardly, wishing I had more items of clothing to leave on the chair and waited a couple of minutes for an opening at the bar then stood. I spread my coat as best I could over both stools and the table, grateful it was knee-length and had a lot of fabric before shouldering my way to the bar.
I caught the half-troll bartender’s attention immediately with my cleavage and he walked over.
“What can I get you?” he drooled, addressing my chest.
“Two cokes, one with vodka, a lime and soda and a bowl of chips,” I ordered, handing him a note and nodding towards the small table I had nabbed. I thought about adding a chocolate fudge cake to the order as The Rummer had one of the best in the city, but Aloora might want to eat too and I could always order it later.
“Shouldn’t dwarves drink beer?” he asked with what he probably thought was a charming smile and da
zzling wit, but I was in no mood for banter.
“Half-dwarves drink what they want,” I informed him, clearly not interested. His smile dropped and he went back to pouring the drinks. He smiled again as he handed me the drinks and my change, and informed me that my chips would be out soon, but it was clear his heart wasn’t in it after my cool reception and he was already looking at two troll ladies who had just entered the bar before he finished speaking.
I liked the openness of the Rummer to all comers, magical and mundane. It reminded me of home, brought up by my dwarfish Dad and human Mum. I straddled both worlds and frequently felt like I didn’t truly fit in either.
I was more careful as I edged my way back to the table to avoid spilling drinks and I made it without spilling a drop until I tried to place them onto the table. It seemed to have all four legs at different heights and I spilled a good amount of my cola on the table and my coat.
“Schiztz,” I breathed, switching easily to Dwarfish for swearing. I finished putting the drinks down and picked up my coat. I dabbed at it half-heartedly with some paper napkins on the table but it made little difference other than causing tiny bits of tissue paper to stick to the wet stain on my coat.
I put it behind me at an angle so I wouldn’t get wet and glared at the cola as if that had caused all this trouble. I downed the brown drink, enjoying the sweet taste and the bubbles going down my throat, slaking my thirst. I imagined Aloora’s comments.
That stuff will rot your teeth.
Hardly. My ancestors had grown up eating dwarven battle bread, so a fizzy brown drink wasn’t going to damage their teeth.
Your human ancestors didn’t.
Imaginary Aloora was committed to her cause, namely making me eat and drink more healthily. I didn’t have a response to that so I slurped down the final bit of cola and switched to my vodka and coke.
I sipped the alcoholic drink slowly, enjoying the slightly tarter taste compared to the sweet cola I’d just downed. I closed my eyes and sighed, acknowledging that I was finally relaxing after the encounter with the elf cul.
I called Aloora again. Still no answer. I wondered if she was at the library still, nose deep in ancient texts as she studied some dragon lore or ancient language or if she was hurrying here right now, dodging the raindrops that had started to fall. I texted again.
Are you on your way? I’m right at the back. See you soon x
I left the phone on the table and eyed it to make sure it had signal and the text had gone through.
I had slowly sipped my way through half my drink when the golden chips arrived. The smell of them made my mouth water and I picked one up and munched it, enjoying the crunch as I slathered the rest of the chips with salt, vinegar and mountains of tomato sauce.
I ate them too quickly as usual, favouring the crunchy ones and finishing with the fluffier chips. I ended up swirling the remaining chip in the dregs of the salt and vinegar and ketchup at the bottom of the bowl before licking my fingers to get the last bit of flavour from the dish. I couldn’t help it, I loved fried food.
My head lifted every time the door opened, letting in a blast of the chill wind and showering those standing close to the entrance with rain. Aloora still wasn’t here. The latest she’d ever been was two hours, and she’d turned up then with pink cheeks gushing about a new Elvish text the librarian had managed to get on loan from the British Library which she had just had to start translating right away.
That had been an exception though and there was an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach that the food had done nothing to quell. I picked up my phone from the table and checked my social media accounts.
Aloora was a minor celebrity in the city thanks to her obsession with dragons and all things ancient and frequently posted videos of herself reading texts or pictures of her latest book acquisitions. There had been no posts since six p.m., right when I was dealing with the elf so I assumed she’d got my message that I’d be late.
I glanced at the digital display in the top right hand corner. Nine p.m. That was three hours ago. Very unusual. The knot in my stomach tightened. She usually posted almost hourly, even when we were out together, which was annoying but she was a good friend and it helped my business too, so I put up with it. I sent direct messages to all her accounts and texted her again.
Ally, are you OK? X
I made myself wait another ten minutes and glugged my drink down impatiently. Still no reply. I sent one final text, hoping she’d call.
Ally, where are you? I’m going to the library. CALL ME x
I grabbed my coat and stood up. A couple who had been eyeing the table for some time sank into the wooden stools gratefully, frowning slightly at the chips and glasses I’d left. I elbowed my way to the door, the press of bodies starting to feel suffocating, especially as I could sense magical auras from several of them. The combination of magic and anxiety for Aloora was starting to give me a headache and I forced myself to breathe slowly as I entered the chill night air.
A couple of humans were huddling under the eaves by the doorway smoking home rolled cigarettes. I breathed in the smoke as well as the air and stifled a cough. Glaring at them, I stepped into the rain and pulled on my coat, doing it up tightly as I walked briskly towards the university’s central library.
Once my coat was fastened I moved in a sort of half run, half fast walk in an effort to get to the library quickly whilst ensuring I didn’t need to stop to grab my breath. The rain glinted orange in the glow of the streetlights and I was glad of my thick leather boots as I moved through the large puddles that formed on the uneven pavements.
I decided not to cut through the park in front of the museum and instead stuck to the well-lit roads, dodging cars as well as puddles rather than walking to the crossing points. It was stupid and two cars beeped their horns loudly in displeasure as I ran in front of them. I gave them a thank you wave and continued speedily towards the library.
As I arrived, I slowed my pace. I would need to talk to the security guard and librarian and I didn’t want to be out of breath. I got a weird feeling on my neck like I was being watched and I turned up the collar on my thick coat, as if that would offer some protection, against what, I didn’t know.
Then I noticed big amber eyes watching me from under one of the dirty cars parked outside the off-white student building that housed the library.
A wyrm. It slunk closer as I walked past and I noticed steam coming from its blunt snout. A stray wyrm by the look of it, no relation of a dragon would choose to be out in this downpour if it had a home. I considered calling to it, but I didn’t want to lure it out of its hiding spot and it might not like the smell of Errol on me. I thought briefly about trying to capture it for my Uncle but I didn’t have anything to handle it with and stray wyrms could be dangerous. I decided I would tell Uncle Owain about it, maybe he could come and get it or call whichever rescue charity dealt with wyrms.
I walked into the building and was immediately stopped by a call from the security guard on duty tonight. He had clearly expected a quiet night and looked up from his tabloid newspaper with an amused look on his face.
“Did you swim here?” he asked, then laughed at his own joke.
I forced myself to smile back. I was soaking. I ran my fingers over my sodden hair. Normally bushy, it was now plastered to my head and water was running in rivulets down my face and shoulders. I started to unbutton my coat, it was warm in here and I was hot after my exertion to get here quickly.
“Something like that,” I replied, “It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” I added as if it wasn’t obvious.
I walked towards the plastic window and wooden counter that he sat behind, knowing I’d have to sign in to access the library.
“What are you doing here then?”
“I’m looking for my friend; she hangs out in the library a lot. Maybe you’ve seen her?” I added hopefully. “She’s a bit shorter than me, thin, short black spiky hair, probably wearing a black coat with a dr
agon on it and a brown satchel. Maybe carrying a pile of books or some scrolls?”
“Aye, I know who you’re talking about. She was here earlier for sure.”
“And now….?” I prompted, trying not to lose patience.
“I’ll check the sign in sheet.”
As I waited, I looked around and appreciated my surroundings, as I always did. I loved the history of the place, shown in the paintings on the wall, the faded rich red carpet, and the bronze details on door handles. It was slightly marred by the university’s standard font signs in English and Welsh pointing out directions to lecture halls, study rooms and the library.
“Looks like she signed out about seven o clock,” the security guard’s voice pulled my attention back to the window. He was pointing to an entry in the book. Underneath his ragged fingernail, I could indeed see Aloora’s neat cursive handwriting signing herself out.
“Damn,” I muttered under my breath, “thanks for that,” I said more loudly, smiling again at the guard as I refastened my coat.
I turned and walked back to the large wooden doors and paused with my hand on the bulky round brass handle, deciding what to do next. Perhaps she went home after the library, if she had books with her, she wouldn’t want to lug them to the pub.
“Pull it love,” the security guard said helpfully.
I decided not to reply and instead yanked the door open all the way so he would get a blast of cold air as I left.
Chapter 3
As I walked quickly across the car park, I again felt like I was being watched. I looked directly under the car this time and as I expected, the wyrm was still there, amber eyes watching me as I walked past. I blinked. There was more than one pair of eyes under the car.
