by Logan Knight
“That’s what I was thinking,” I said. “It also means killing the priest might be the only way we can survive. I don’t think he’ll stop hunting us. We’ve killed too many of his guards, and we’ve caused him too much trouble and embarrassment.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to just leave us alone?” she asked. “I mean, there’s only two of us. What’s he expecting? He could even say he watched us jump into that ravine back there—whatever.”
“He could, and he could probably get away with it. However, based on what I’ve seen so far, I expect he’s storming around the fortress right this very second, yelling at anyone nearby. He’s probably got the rest of his guards so scared they’re afraid to blink without permission.”
“You’re probably right,” she said, standing. “Luckily, my friends are close. We’ll probably have a little trouble getting them to join us, but I think they will. We have the same goals. They don’t like the guards, either. In fact, they probably hate them more than you do.”
“Good,” I said. “It’ll take a small army to fight our way back into Black Citadel.”
“That’s perfect, then, because my friends are very small.”
6
Alena guided me through what had to be the thickest, darkest part of any forest I’d ever seen. The trees were so close together, I sometimes found it difficult to squeeze between them. Bushes grew from broken stones covered in colorful moss and lichens, and mushrooms did their best to fill the spaces in-between.
“My friends are a little nervous sometimes,” Alena whispered. “Okay, that’s not entirely true. They’re nervous all the time. Like, really, all the time. But that’s because they were some of the first who were hunted.”
“Who’s doing all the hunting?” I asked.
“Nobody knows for sure,” she whispered, “but it all started a long time ago when the old queen was killed and the military took over Xoria. I couldn’t tell you who was in charge, though. There were no announcements, no ceremony, nothing. It just changed, and it was all very mysterious.”
“Haven’t there been declarations of new laws?” I asked. “What about land seizures? Trials? Executions? Surely there are official announcements made now and then. Doesn’t someone sign or seal the official notices?”
“All those things happen, but they only happen locally. The fortress doesn’t have any real political power as far as I can tell—not like the nearby towns and villages, anyway. Their focus seems to center around what to do with prisoners.
“I think they run the nearby harbor, too. It’s like whoever rules Xoria is only interested in the war stuff. I guess it’s good they don’t want to get involved in every little thing we do.”
Alena held up a hand and crouched. I mirrored her posture and peered through the trees to where she was looking.
In a small clearing about a dozen yards ahead of us grew the largest mushrooms I’d ever seen. The fungi were as tall as my shoulder, white with red caps, and seemed to be shedding tiny stars that sparkled and fell to the ground before they vanished. Little bugs flitted and buzzed around them, dancing among the sparkles of light as if they were excited. The place was beautiful, but it also held an eerie, dark feeling that chilled me to my bones. It felt like magic, but it also seemed dark and dangerous.
The silver tattoos on my hands began to tingle, confirming my suspicion. There was a lot of power concentrated in the small clearing. It seemed spread-out, like it wasn’t from a single source, but from many smaller ones. It gave me hope there would be enough to work my way into the prison and kill the goateed man.
Alena brought me close and whispered directly into my ear. “They’re sprites. Do you have sprites where you’re from?”
I shook my head slowly as a tiny person with wings flitted out from under one of the mushroom’s caps, made a circuit of the little clearing, and vanished into the dark woods beyond.
“You’ve probably got some over there,” she continued, “but you’ve just never seen any. They’re magical creatures. When the hunting started, they were one of the first to be slaughtered. There were thousands of them—probably more. Now, as far as I know, this is all that remains in Xoria. There might be three or four dozen here, but that’s it. Elves aren’t human, but we aren’t inherently magical. We live longer than humans, and we look different, though. Also, we’re patient. My people generally don’t like to fight. I’m one of the few exceptions. Instead, my kind likes to wait around for our enemies to die of old age, get assassinated by someone else, or have an accident. It’s simpler that way. Sprites, on the other hand, always fight back. Sometimes they’re the ones who start the trouble. They can cast spells, like you, but theirs aren’t as deadly or powerful. However, when you’ve got two or three of these people on you, stabbing you with their little swords while you’re punching yourself in the face, you’ll learn to respect them.”
I turned my head to whisper in her ear. “Is that what I need to do? I have to fight them?”
She shrugged.
Great. I had a lot to learn about the land of the Xorians. Elves, sprites, and giant bugs who lived at the bottoms of deep caverns were things I thought only existed in the minds of storytellers. My stomach churned when I thought of the monsters my grandmother had told me stories about.
Dragons, for instance, were huge lizard-like creatures who were especially powerful. Some could fly, while others swam or crawled along the ground. They were ferocious, intelligent, and proud. Some could expel fire, others sprayed acid, and at least one could freeze with its breath.
Ghouls were ancient creatures that had once been alive but weren’t anymore. Somehow, they could still move, but all they wanted to do was eat. Supposedly, they spent their time in abandoned graveyards, and when curious people—or graverobbers—visited at night, the ghouls would feast. Nothing would remain except the things the monsters couldn’t eat, like clothing and tools.
Unicorns were supposed to be majestic, wise, and gentle. But when faced with an opponent who wanted them dead were said to have magical powers beyond anything else, even dragons.
I’d never heard of sprites, though.
“Tell me more about them,” I said. “How do I get them to join us? Are they open to reason? Can they be bribed? Would they listen if I explained the situation? Or is fighting them the only way?”
Alena stifled a laugh then glanced nervously around us before speaking. “They’re assholes. Bigtime. As long as you understand that, you won’t be surprised by what they say or do. I’m sure everything will be fine, though. I think they’ll join us, but you’re going to have to convince them that you’re worth joining. Others have stumbled upon them by accident. They’re great at hiding, so it’s not like anyone can find them on purpose unless they already know where they are. When those people attempted to reason with them—probably just trying to avoid being killed—the sprites took it as a personal insult. When I first discovered them, they didn’t kill me because we had something in common. We were being hunted. Sprites are obsessed with revenge, too, so don’t expect them to show any mercy. But if you convince them to join the battle, they’ll kill every single enemy we come across. They won’t accept surrender, so don’t even try to convince them to.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said. “So, what do we do now?”
“Now, we make sure they’re awake and get their attention. Oh, and don’t kill any of them. No matter what. Not even one. Feel free to kick their tiny, little asses, though. They heal fast, and they’ll respect you for it. It makes them feel like they’re big or something.” Then she stood, put two fingers in her mouth, and let out an ear-splitting whistle.
“Silverwind!” she bellowed. “Get your ass out here! I can’t believe you let me sneak up so close to your stinky mushroom, you old fart! Have you no dignity? What, you just gave up now that you’re old? That’s pathetic!”
I was stunned and could only stare as the woman stood out in the open with her hands on her hips like she wasn�
��t afraid of anything.
The clearing erupted into an angry buzz as sprites dropped from the mushroom caps and charged us, buzzing around like angry hornets. They looked exactly like little people, except they had wings and were only about four inches tall.
The males’ wings resembled those of dragonflies—long, narrow, and iridescent. The females’ wings were wider, colorful, and reminded me of butterflies.
Both were medium-complexioned, some lighter and some darker, but each of them had skin resembling different types of wood. They all had long, black hair, and most had it braided.
As they buzzed around my head, I caught quick glimpses of their faces. Each was twisted into a mask of stern resolve bordering on hate.
They were so small, I didn’t think they could be any kind of a threat until one of them cut me.
The creature slashed the tip of my nose with its tiny, golden sword and laughed hysterically when I flinched. Another gave me a nick on the back of my neck, then another on my thigh.
I’d had enough, but when I tried to swat one, he dodged and left a red line on the back of my hand for my trouble.
“Told you,” Alena said. “Assholes.”
“You’re an asshole!” a male sprite said as he stopped in front of her face. His voice was impossibly high-pitched and reminded me of an old, rusty hinge. He had his little sword drawn and was holding its needle-like point against her nose. “What do you want, elf?”
He spat the word like it tasted foul on his lips. The gesture made me wonder why she called them friends.
“Me?” she asked. “Nothing, Silverwind, except for you to get that sword away from my nose. You know I hate that. Oh, and why does your breath always stink?”
Silverwind gasped and buzzed a few inches further away from her. “This is my kingdom!” he bellowed. “How dare you speak to me like that within my domain!”
“Nobody’s had a kingdom in a long time, sprite,” Alena scoffed. “Not here, anyway. But my friend Reese is from a real kingdom across the great sea. And, he’s a mage. If you want your kingdom back—”
“A mage?” Silverwind interrupted. He flew to me and hovered in front of my face, one tiny finger scratching his chin. “A mage, you say?”
“Yup,” Alena confirmed. “A great and powerful mage.”
Silverwind poked me in the nose with his sword. It hurt, and I was having difficulty not imagining what one of my magic arrows could do to a creature so small.
“He doesn’t look like a mage to me,” the sprite said. “He looks like a nasty human—maybe even a Xorian spy!”
I spoke a magic word as Silverwind drew his little arm back to slash me again. When his sword came around and contacted my nose, the blade turned to powder. He looked stunned.
When I reached for him, he slipped nimbly between my fingers and escaped. The rest of the sprites attacked.
Gone were the cute human-like features I’d seen at first. Their skin turned the color of obsidian, and their eyes tripled in size, becoming round and bug-like. Their wings transformed into membranes like those of a bat, and their hands doubled in size, becoming claws. I knew I was in for a fight.
Meanwhile, several of the creatures buzzed in front of Alena’s face as she stood impassively with her arms crossed. The message was clear: I had to do this on my own.
I stood and drew my sword. I didn’t want to kill any, but already the sprites were flapping around my head and arms, little blades slicing at my clothing.
I snapped my weapon to the side, caught one sprite on her shoulder with the back of my hand, and saw her cartwheel to the ground.
Another hovered about four feet in front of me and pointed his palm in my direction. A half-second later, I noticed an uncomfortable heat in my groin area. When I looked, I discovered my pants were on fire. I patted the little flame out while taking three more slashes, two to my ear and one to my forehead. Alena was right—they were assholes.
“You’d better watch out, Silverwind!” Alena taunted. “I think you just pissed off a mage! He’s so going to kick your ass!” Then she gave me a wink and a thumb’s up as if everything was going exactly to plan.
Another sprite stopped in front of me. I snapped my sword out, caught the sprite with the flat side of the blade, and sent my little opponent spinning up into the trees.
Another sprite cast a spell that caused my eyelid to slam shut. Three more slashes made me stagger back. I swung my sword wildly, batting at my tormentors.
I pawed at my eye, trying to force it open, but it felt like someone had glued it shut. “What the hell?” I grumbled.
“Don’t kill any!” Alena reminded me. “They need to believe you’re a mage! Show them!”
My left foot went numb, then instantly turned to pins and needles. I found the little bastard who’d cast the spell and swung at him with my hand, receiving a tiny cut on my pinky for my efforts. When I followed up with my sword, he dodged it and cut my ear.
I cast an arrow, firing it into a nearby tree to show them what I was capable of, but the mean little sprites didn’t seem to notice. There was no way to demonstrate my slow-fall spell, so I turned another sprite’s sword to powder. The creature stared stupidly at its empty hand for a second before I whacked it with the flat side of my sword, sending it crashing into a tree.
A wave of nausea ruined my concentration for a few seconds, and the sprites rewarded me with several more cuts to my scalp, thighs, and forearms.
Two leather-winged sprites left the fight to assist the last one I’d clobbered. I pointed a palm at each of them and said “Sustu Fragili!”. They turned toward each other with confused expressions when their swords turned to powder.
“Use your magic,” Alena said.
“No cheating,” a sprite growled before he flew up to her nose and pointed his sword at her. Two female sprites joined him.
Alena shrugged and clamped her mouth shut. I wasn’t sure what she meant, though. I was having enough trouble keeping their sharp little blades at bay without trying to find a new spell.
A dull, sickening pain told me I’d been struck in the crotch. When I looked, I was amazed to see a tangle of mushrooms shaped like a fist floating away as it lined up to punch me again. Several sprites giggled in delight.
When the fungal fist came at me again, I sliced it in half. The pieces fell to the ground. My opponents groaned in disappointment.
Then a deep rumbling and shaking caused me to temporarily lose my balance. Two sprites were standing on a nearby mushroom with their hands outstretched. They focused on the ground at my feet and appeared to be the ones causing the tremor. I dove at them, rolled, and slapped them from the air as they tried to escape. The shaking stopped.
Another of the little flying devils attacked me. It gouged my neck as a small fire broke out on my shirt. I slapped at the flame as I searched for my target—Silverwind. If I could capture him, rough him up a bit, and convince him that I was, indeed, a mage, I hoped he would tell the others to stop and join me.
The sprites all looked different after they transformed, though. I couldn't tell which one was their leader until I remembered he didn’t have a sword. There was one other without a sword, but I had a fifty-percent chance of finding the right one.
It was time to finish it.
One sprite stood on a nearby branch and watched the fight with a foul expression. He had a scabbard, but no blade. It had to be Silverwind.
The sprite flapped his wings slowly, and though they were a small target, I knew I had to take the shot. I batted another opponent away with my sword and released my magical arrow.
Silverwind’s shriek was a high-pitched, haunting whistle. I was afraid I’d killed him. When I looked again, however, I discovered him flapping his other wing madly as he tried to free himself from the tree.
“Stop!” I ordered as I summoned another arrow, aiming it at the leader of the sprites.
Alena looked surprised, and the other sprites backed away.
“Kill the human!
” Silverwind screeched.
I released the arrow, pinning his other wing to the tree. He struggled a second longer, then fell to his little knees, changing back to his original form.
I readied another arrow and aimed it at him. “You’re out of wings, Silverwind!” I shouted. “I’m not your enemy, but if you continue, I might change my mind.”
“Stop,” he said, sounding exhausted. “He has bested me. I am beaten.”
“Tell them I’m a mage,” I growled.
The other sprites still resembled angry little bats. They turned back and forth between their leader and me, waiting for instructions.
“Tell them,” I said again.
“You know two little spells,” he grumbled. “That doesn’t make you a mage.”
“Then what does?” Alena asked. “How many spells would he need to know? Five? Ten? A thousand? How many do other humans know? What other human have you met in the last hundred years who could cast even one?”
Silverwind sighed and waved a few sprites over to him. They began chopping at the arrows pinning him to the tree. When they’d worked their way through the wood, Silverwind slid himself off, gasping in pain as he did.
“I have seen one other,” Silverwind said. “One who is an enemy to the sprites.”
“And?” Alena said, gesturing to me.
“What do you want, mage,” Silverwind spat.
“I want to kill the warden of the nearby prison,” I said. “And I want your help to do it.”
Several sprites made small hissing noises that sounded like laughs.
“And why do you think you can best the warden?” Silverwind asked. His wings had healed already, but he was still standing on the branch.
“Because I’m not afraid of him,” I said. “I bested more than two dozen of his guards with Alena’s help, and I believe if you and the other sprites help me, I can get to him.”
“Why do you want to?” he asked.
“Because he’s tracking me somehow,” I said. “He’s tracking both Alena and me. Our lives will be in danger until he’s killed.”
