by Logan Jacobs
“You’re back so soon!” the noblewoman said as she met us outside. “I knew I could count on you.” Her gray eyes took in the mud-splattered carriage and the enormous orc pirates that loomed behind it, but if anything seemed amiss about that to her, she was too polite to show it.
“I’ll have a wonderful dinner prepared for all of us,” Yvaine promised, and she smoothed down a lock of her dark hair. “The triumphant heroes’ return calls for a proper celebration. But come in, come in, you must all be exhausted. We’ll get you something to drink, and you can tell me all about it.”
As Rezo took the horses to the stables, the noblewoman waved the rest of our party inside and led us to the solarium where we’d dined with her before and instructed a servant to bring us tea and cakes.
Once we had seated ourselves amongst the fragrant flowers, I took the little box with the ring Yvaine had sent us for out of my pack and presented it to her.
“I hope this is the right one,” I said with a solemn tone. “It would be a shame if we had to go all the way back.”
The marchioness looked at me curiously, then laughed when she realized I was joking. She flipped the lid and examined the ring for a moment, then closed the box again and placed it on the table.
“I knew I’d placed my trust in the right guild,” she said with a smile. Then she glanced over to Sulla and Urim. “And if I’m not mistaken, it would seem your numbers have grown since last we met.”
“Ah, yes, these are--” Maruk started but broke off just as quickly, and I guessed he was hesitant to admit his relation to the pirates until he knew what Yvaine thought of them.
“They helped us get your ring back,” I explained.
The pirates each swept a surprisingly gallant bow as they introduced themselves, and Yvaine was delighted.
“How chivalrous of you to help,” she gushed. “Tell me, Sulla, is it? Is that cape of your own making?”
Maruk stared with his mouth hanging slightly open as Sulla drew himself up and held out the tattered, bloodstained scrap of cloth that he wore around his shoulders. Perhaps it had been a cape at one time, but it would barely pass as an old dishrag now.
“It was the flag of a navy ship,” the pirate replied. “One of my first conquests. We use the flags to mop up the blood of the crews we slay. It’s traditional.”
“How fascinating!” Yvaine breathed. “Would you perhaps be willing to sell it to me? Genuine orc craftsmanship is so rare around here.”
“Genuine--” Maruk echoed in disbelief. “That’s not art!“
Sulla and Urim exchanged a glance.
“Two hundred silver pieces,” Sulla said.
“It’s just a bloody rag!” Maruk protested.
“You’ve got a deal,” Yvaine replied, and she took the scrap of cloth eagerly as Sulla handed it over. “Oh, this will be the highlight of my collection. My friends will be sick with envy.”
The noblewoman summoned one of her servants.
“Go and fetch two hundred silver marks for this gentleman here,” she instructed with a nod to Sulla. “And put this somewhere safe, I want to hang it in my gallery.”
The servant was considerably less excited than Yvaine had been to receive the bloodstained cape, but he nodded and disappeared to get the orc’s payment.
More servants arrived with tea and cakes, and we told Yvaine about our adventures over the last few days. With Sulla and Urim there as proof that we hadn’t had a calm reception in Kepa, I didn’t bother to hide the news of the pirate attack from the noblewoman.
“Ugh,” she scoffed. “I just knew something like that would happen. Edward has plenty of ships that could patrol that bay, but he never bothers to send them out.” She sighed. “Well, it was good that you all arrived when you did. I am eternally grateful, truly.”
“We’re glad we could help,” I told her with a smile.
After tea, we had some time to get cleaned up before dinner, and true to her word, Yvaine provided a feast beyond compare. We stuffed ourselves on roasted pheasant garnished with herbs, salads with sweet nuts and tart berries, and finally, a cake so light and fluffy that it practically melted in my mouth. I couldn’t have asked for a better end to the last few days.
Yvaine was sorry to see us off the next morning as we prepared to set out for Ovrista, and she tried several times to convince us to stay a little longer. Even as we stood on the lawn in the soft light of dawn, packed and ready for the day’s journey back to the city, she refused to give up.
“What is one more night, really?” the noblewoman argued with a pouting smile. She put her hands on my shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze. “You’ve all been working so hard, you deserve the rest.” Though she addressed the whole group with her statement, her gray eyes were locked on me. Not that I minded being the center of the beautiful woman’s attention, of course.
“We’ll come to visit again soon,” I promised in an attempt to compromise. “Emeline’s brother is waiting on us to return, and she has to turn in the books we got so that she can graduate.”
Yvaine cocked her head slightly and finally let me go as she moved to embrace Emeline instead.
“Oh, of course, dear, congratulations,” the marchioness gushed. “You must attend one of my salons when you get the chance. My friends would be so impressed by a young mage of your talents.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Emeline replied, a blush coloring her cheeks.
Yvaine clicked her tongue. “None of that ma’am business, dear, we’re all friends here.”
“Wonderful friends,” Aerin agreed as she admired the collection of precious gemstones that Yvaine had given us as payment for retrieving her ring. In addition to the jewels, the noblewoman had gifted each of us with a new traveling cloak of the finest material. I wasn’t even sure what sort of fabric it was, but it was as soft as water and, Yvaine assured us, more than capable of standing up both to the elements and the scrutiny of anyone with an eye for fashion. The cloaks were all dyed a matching deep gray that seemed to shift color slightly depending on how the light hit them. The fabric was more blue-toned in the full light of day, but they blended almost perfectly in the shadows.
“Well, if you must go then, be sure to write once you’re settled,” Yvaine said. “You’re welcome here any time, you know.”
“Thank you, Yvaine,” I said. “You’ve been extremely kind.”
The noblewoman nodded graciously as we turned to leave, and I thought about how nice it would be to take her up on her offer some time and spend a week or so out here on vacation. For now, though, we still had the last part of our mission to complete, and though I wasn’t exactly looking forward to returning to the Mage Academy’s University Tower so soon, I was looking forward to collecting the reward for the bounty and returning home. We’d already started some renovations to our guild hall, and the contractors we hired would be finishing up their work right about now.
We’d arranged to add a practice range on the building’s first floor where we could all hone our combat skills, magical and nonmagical alike, and we were having some of the old windows refitted with new glass panes. We’d splurged on some that had been enchanted to block the view from the outside in while still allowing us to look out from inside. What was more, Maruk had ordered some new furniture as well, and our nice new sofas and armchairs had probably already arrived.
We made good time on the road, and by mid-morning, we were already halfway to Ovrista, and at last, we reached the fork in the road where we would part ways with Sulla and Urim, who would need to journey south to reunite with their crew.
“You should return with us to the city,” Maruk said suddenly as he faced his cousins.
Urim grinned and clapped Maruk hard on the back.
“Don’t want to see us leave so soon, eh, Maruk?” he teased.
“Actually,” Maruk replied with a self-important sniff, “I was concerned that you two might fall back on your thieving habits and rob hapless travelers if we aren’t around to supervi
se you.”
“Mhmm,” Sulla grunted, unconvinced.
I shared the orc’s skepticism. I could see how much Maruk appreciated his cousins’ praise when he got it, and I suspected that he’d missed his family a little more than he was willing to let on.
“You could sell some of their extra ogre bones on the black market, then purchase passage on a ship back to the coast,” Maruk said.
“I don’t see why we have to pay for a ride on a ship,” Sulla complained. “If we steal it, the ride will be free, and then we will have...” the orc paused and counted under his breath, “... three ships.”
“Because,” Maruk replied in an exasperated tone, “you are entering civilized society, and in a civilized society you cannot simply commandeer a ship at your whim. There are proper ways to do things, and theft is not proper.”
Sulla snorted derisively. “Stupid.”
“We will steal the ship later,” I heard Urim say quietly to the other pirate. “When the civilized people have let their guards down.”
“I can hear you, Urim,” Maruk sighed. Then he stretched his arms over his head. “Augh, I cannot wait to be home. It has been far too long since I’ve had a nice, hot bath and an evening of peace and quiet.”
“I thought you said you were going to take a bath last night at Yvaine’s.” Lavinia turned to the orc with a frown. “That was your excuse for leaving our croquet match early. I hope you didn’t just quit because I was kicking your ass.”
“Well, that hardly counts,” Maruk argued. “We were on the road, technically. It’s not the same as being at home.”
“I’ll say,” Aerin put in. “The bathtub was bigger than the fountain in the city square in Ovrista, it must have cost a fortune.”
“Oh, but it was exquisite,” Maruk said wistfully.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Aerin warned. “Unless you’ve got land and a secret title you’ve neglected to tell us about.”
“Hey, look,” Emeline said suddenly as she stopped and stared off into the distance.
The rest of us stopped as well, but when I tried to follow her gaze, I couldn’t make out what it was that had given her pause.
“What’s the matter?” Lavinia asked, one brow arched as she glanced back at the panthera woman.
Emeline frowned and shook her head slightly.
“It’s just, well, I don’t think that cloud was there before,” she said, and she pointed out at the gray mass that hung low over the horizon.
“Well, clouds do that, you know,” Lavinia replied. “Form and gather together. How long did they have you locked up in that tower?”
“I know how clouds work.” Emeline’s tail twitched irritably. “I’m saying, the sky was totally clear a minute ago, and suddenly, there’s this huge, dark cloud, and that’s sort of strange.”
“Alright, alright, I hear you.” The ladona ranger held up her hands in a placating gesture. “It’s nothing to worry about, though. We can handle the rain.”
“Uh, Lavinia?” Aerin said hesitantly. “It’s getting bigger. A lot bigger.”
Aerin was right. Just moments ago, the cloud had been a foreboding but narrow strip of gray hanging over the distant farmland, but it had grown rapidly even as we’d been talking, and a coil of unease twisted up in my stomach.
“I don’t think that’s a normal cloud,” I said. What it was, I had no idea. My first suspicion, naturally, was that it was magic in origin, but there was no way something like that could be the work of a lone mage or even a group of mages. The cloud continued to grow until it dominated the north-western horizon, like a thick fleece blanket being draped over the landscape.
“It could be a hurricane,” Urim suggested, and Maruk turned to him with a frown.
“Hurricanes only form over the ocean,” the shield-warrior said, with the air of a disappointed schoolteacher. “It can’t be a hurricane.”
I caught a look at Lena then, and I noticed that all the color had drained from the alchemist’s face. I reached out and grabbed her arm, worried that she might faint.
“Lena?” I shook her slightly to get her attention. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“It’s not a cloud.” Lena’s voice was barely above a whisper, but everyone turned to stare at her as she made her proclamation.
“What do you mean, it’s not a cloud?” Lavinia demanded. “What else could it be?”
As I looked back to the mounting mass of gray, I realized with a sinking feeling that there was a slight ripple to it, almost like television static. It wasn’t one large mass, and Lena was right, it wasn’t a cloud. It was a swarm.
“Pixies,” Lena answered, her voice hollow. “It’s a plague of pixies.”
“Pixies?” I asked. “Like the tiny little elves?”
The others all gave me the same confused look, and then Aerin shook her head.
“Right, you don’t have pixies where you’re from, do you?” she asked. “They’re nothing like elves. They’re like...”
“Locusts,” Lavinia offered.
“Piranhas,” Maruk suggested.
“Yeah,” Aerin said, her brow creased. “Locust-piranhas.”
I looked out toward the undulating gray mass that now blocked out almost a third of the sky. It was closing in fast.
“What do we do about them?” I asked. “How do we fight them?”
“You don’t fight pixies,” Lena answered gravely, “especially not a swarm that size. All you can do it get to cover and hope they pass over. We need to find shelter, and fast.”
We all looked around. Aside from a few birch trees along the road, all the land for miles was open pasture where the local farmers left their sheep and cattle to graze. There was nowhere we could go to escape the swarm, a fact which became apparent to all of us in a matter of moments.
“Okaaaay,” Aerin said in a nervous sing-song. “How does everyone feel about fighting?”
“I’ve seen pictures of what happens to creatures that get caught in a pixie swarm.” Emeline’s voice was high and fearful. “There are barely any bones left.”
Sulla frowned and clutched his ogre skull protectively.
“We have our tents,” Maruk pointed out. “We could wrap up in those.”
“That wouldn’t do anything but give them one more layer to eat through,” Lavinia argued. “If we can’t get to shelter, and we can’t, that leaves us with one option. Fight.”
“Lavinia’s right,” I said. “We should at least try to fight these things. I don’t want to die as a human burrito.”
The others gave me confused looks.
“What’s a burrito?” Aerin asked.
“Nevermind that,” I said quickly.
I could hear the pixies now. The buzz of their wings as they flew was like the rev of a chainsaw. No, more than that. Millions upon millions of little chainsaws all together. It certainly inspired a sense of urgency. I took another look around again and had some small relief as I noticed a low ditch along the right side of the road ahead. It was far from a proper shelter, but it was better than nothing, and hopefully, the slope of the ground could help to protect us while we fended off the pixies with our attacks.
“Over here,” I called to the others, and I waved them after me as I ran toward the shallow ditch and slid into it. By then, the noise of the pixies was so loud I could barely hear myself think, and the living curtain of their millions of tiny bodies passed over the sun and cast the land in a twilight shade.
As the others climbed into the ditch after me, I pulled my cloak from Yvaine tightly around my shoulders and put the hood up, then signaled to the others to do the same. The special material could weather the elements, but we were about to find out how it could hold up against a carnivorous pixie plague.
“I’ll use an illusion to conceal us for as long as I can,” I told the others. I practically had to shout above the noise of the swarm. “After that, we’ll have to try to fight them off if they get too close.”
I twisted to face the o
ncoming storm and braced my back against the slope of the ditch behind me as I held up both hands. I wasn’t sure how accurately I could project or maintain an illusion like this over so many individuals at once, but I knew I had to try. As the swarm darkened the sky above us and the buzzing of the pixies’ wings became a roar in my ears, I cast my illusion over the group.
Chapter 13
A heartbeat later, the front of the swarm rolled over us like a tidal wave. As focused as I was on the illusion and with their sheer speed and numbers, it was almost impossible to make out the look of the pixies individually, but amongst the rush, I glimpsed portions of the creatures’ tiny, insect-like bodies, narrow limbs, and shimmering wings. They were all crammed together in an impossibly dense cloud, and it wasn’t until they had begun to pass over us that I really understood the magnitude of the swarm. As I stole a glance to the others on either side of me, crouched in this ditch, I saw the same look of awe and apprehension that I felt mirrored on their faces.
My heart hammered against my ribcage as the seconds dragged on, and I channeled my focus into maintaining the illusion that concealed us from the swarm. My skill had improved in the months since I’d been here, but to cast an illusion like this, to affect the awareness of so many millions at once, was more than I’d ever practiced before. After about a minute, my head began to ache, a pounding pain that rippled over my skull. Sweat dripped down my temple, and my arms trembled with exertion as I held them up. The mana in my veins almost burned as it coursed through my body, but I tried to ignore the pain and focus on the illusion.
At least it was a simple one, just the image of an empty ditch, and the pixies didn’t question it. Still, as spots began to cloud my vision, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.
I tried to give some sort of warning to the others, but my strained voice came out only as an inarticulate grunt. I doubted the rest of my guild was even able to hear it over the chainsaw-buzz of the pixies’ wings overhead.
On my left, Aerin reached out and touched my arm, her beautiful features creased in a nervous frown as she looked over at me. I glimpsed the glow of her magic and caught the chime of bells as she began to transfer some of her own mana to me, and though it made me feel a little stronger, I shook my head at her. Aerin could give me all of her mana, and it still wouldn’t be enough to hold this illusion until the swarm passed. We were going to be in for a fight no matter what, so I wanted Aerin to have the mana left to heal us afterward.
