*****
“I’m not sure why everyone has a problem with these dolls,” Sari admits as she admires the four blue-haired figurines in front of her. Due to her constant fiddling, they are in various stages of undress with tiny clothes strewn about her part of the table. “This one shoots water out of her hand if you fill the vial under her hair. All of them have pretty clothes and their hair shines when you groom them with . . . this brush makes my hair shiny too. I always wanted a magical doll when I was a kid and now I’m four of them. Although, I wish they gave them more than two daggers, made them a little taller, and included some underwear. Kind of creepy looking at a naked Sari doll and it being blank down there. Not that I want details like some kind of pervert, but they could have given me something pretty under the skirts. Why do the guys have nipples and I have nothing?”
“Please shut up, Sari,” Nyx groans as she stares at her figurine and one of Trinity. Both of them can fire harmless sparks from their hands and their eyes glow violet when squeezed. “I don’t like them. Mine is too . . . off. Whoever created these took some liberties with our bodies. What does everyone else think?”
A chorus of grunts and mutters rise from her friends as they examine their miniature replicas. Fizzle stares at the soft drite doll, nudging it with his nose and backing away when it releases a rainbow mist. The loud click of Luke’s figurine changing from a muscular half-elf to a griffin causes the dragon to dart toward the ceiling. He lands on Timoran’s shoulder, leaning forward to see the barbarian’s figurine wildly swing its glossy axe. When the toy is pressed against the table, its legs bend and the sound of locking springs can be heard. A second later, the toy launches into the air while emitting a tiny battle cry.
“Fizzle not sure,” the dragon claims, fluttering to Dariana to examine the Lich figurine. It cackles before its crack-covered head falls out of the cloth cowl, the voice turning into pathetic whimper. “These weapons? Not seem dangerous. Wait! These what little one call toys. Odd things. Fizzle no know purpose.”
“They’re to entertain children,” Delvin replies, scowling at his replica. He constantly presses and shakes the doll, but nothing happens besides the shield falling off. “At least your doll came with a change of clothes, Kellia. Mine doesn’t seem do anything. I’m not sure if I should take that as an insult. Guess the good thing is that it looks more like me than Luke and his doll. It’s almost as muscular as Timoran.”
“They’re definitely not perfect,” the half-elf replies as he turns his attention to a curly-haired Nimby toy. A shortsword comes out of the right hand when he moves the arm in a downward stabbing motion. “Anybody think it’s strange that Nimby is included here? He disappeared before our destiny was revealed. Even if he was with our enemies the entire time, he was a covert agent and nobody has heard from him since our time in Freedom. Who would know about him being a part of our adventures?”
Aedyn stares at his old friend in disbelief and takes a deep breath to cool his growing temper. “What do you mean if he was with our enemies the entire time? Do not tell me that you still think there is more to Nimby’s story. He was a murderous traitor and manipulated all of us from the beginning. If he was still on your side then he would have approached you by now. He is either dead or being held back for another attack. Please do not trust him if you see him again, Luke. Remember what he did to Fritz.”
“I’m not getting into this debate with you,” the forest tracker says in a voice full of bitterness and guilt. He tosses the toy onto the table and watches it bounce off an empty mug. “I won’t make a final decision until I hear from Nimby or get proof that he’s dead. I still think something was off about that entire incident. If he was still on their side at the time of the betrayal then he should have killed me quickly. Instead, he gave me a chance to survive the poison. Do you have an explanation for that, Karwyn?”
The half-elves jump to their feet, Kellia already reaching for Aedyn’s arm to pull him back into his chair. Both of the young men are surprised when Nyx steps between them, the caster holding back the tears in her eyes. Still holding the figurines, she places a closed fist on each of their chests and keeps her head down to avoid seeing their angry faces. She relaxes slightly when Fizzle lands on her head and prepares to unleash his calming breath at anyone who tries to get violent. The tension continues to rise with neither Luke nor Aedyn willing to push their friends out of the way.
“Do you think my figurine’s bust is too big?” Nyx casually asks, holding up her doll and smirking at Sari. The gypsy nods her approval and covers her mouth to muffle her snickering. “I don’t see how I would be able to fling spells on the run with these things bouncing around. Even strapped down, they’d get in the way and I’d probably end up setting them on fire. Maybe the creators got confused with me and Trinity because her doll is rather . . . small. What do you guys think?”
“I never paid attention, but they do seem out of proportion on your toy,” Aedyn admits as he sits down. He picks up the figurine of Fritz and fits it into the saddle of a Bessaria doll. “I apologize for my actions. It appears Nimby is still a sore subject between us even after all this time.”
“But he might be the key to figuring out who did this,” Luke whispers, staring at the halfling thief’s replica. He looks up at the sound of Nyx clearing her throat, the caster waiting for an answer to her question. “Yes, your figurine has more curves than the real you. Take it up with the gnome inventor when we meet them. Heck, show up with your shirt off if that’ll help get your point across. At least they got your legs and scowl right.”
“The butt is rather impressive too,” Delvin nonchalantly adds with a yawn. He is flung over the table by a wind spell that cushions his fall to the floor. “I thought it was a compliment since you were concerned about your chest. It’s been a long journey, so give me a little bit of a break here. More importantly, why does Luke get to make a comment about you being topless and I can’t say you have a nice rear?”
Nyx bites her lower lip, fearing that she may have overreacted. “It’s quite simple, Mr. Cunningham. I know Luke is teasing and has no interest in me. You’re in a different category and will forever be held to a different set of standards.”
“So we’re going to be together forever?”
“Ye . . . N . . . By the gods, I hate you.”
Kellia and Aedyn catch Nyx’s attention, their eyebrows raised with a matching question that neither feel comfortable asking. The channeler blushes and goes back to her chair where she quietly has her two figurines repeatedly slap each other in the face. To hide from the stares and smiles, she ends the little display with the fake Nyx hurling the fake Trinity across the room. A twitch of her finger sends the cobalt-colored toy up to the chandelier where it gets its head stuck in one of the soft candles. Seeing a frown on Kellia’s face, the half-elf frees the figurine and returns it to the table where the wax sloughs off and hardens into a disc.
“I get it now!” Sari exclaims, leaping to her feet and snatching the halfling doll from Luke’s hands. “The person behind this has to know about Nimby, but they lost their information source soon after his betrayal since General Vile isn’t included in the toys. Our adventures have been talked about, which is why Timoran and Delvin are here. Yet Dariana is missing and there’s nothing connected to the temples like the guardians. Am I right, Luke?”
“In a roundabout way,” the forest tracker replies, reaching out to hug her and turning it into an awkward pat on the head. He lets his arm drop to his side at the sight of the gypsy’s wounded expression. “The main point here is that there’s a definite focus on my first adventure and the one where I first met Nyx. Anything dealing with the champions appears to be an afterthought, which could be due to lack of knowledge. I saw a Hellfire Elf toy around here somewhere. Wasn’t there a Kira one too?”
“She had an accident,” Timoran sheepishly claims, pulling the crushed figurine from behind his back. He sees Sari mouth a thank you as she turns around to look at him with
mock disapproval. “I thought she would work like mine and put too much pressure on her head. I will give you the money for a new one, Lady Solomon.”
“They’re only a few silver or gold depending on which one,” Kellia says, taking the broken toy from the barbarian. She is surprised at the wetness of the material, which makes her wonder if he dropped it in his ale at some point. “We stopped trying to figure out who’s behind this and focused more on the point of origin. It’s obvious that gnomes are involved, so we thought it would be easy to track the factory down. There are a lot of middle men and traders involved in this, but we followed the finance trail to Everthorne. The problem is that the northern Sister City has no industry like this and there are no gnome inventors living there. It seems doubtful that the real source will be found there. Still even if the factory isn’t in the city, it’s a starting point if you’re curious.”
The sound of the roaring crowd fills the room when Dariana opens the balcony doors and steps outside. She is a little disappointed that the citizens quiet down quickly and ignore her, many of them going back to setting up torches in the dying sunlight. A few children are still among the fans, but they are asleep in the arms of their parents or within the beds of hay-filled carts. The silver-haired woman sends out a gentle urge for everyone to go home, which several people readily obey. The rest unknowingly deny her psychic suggestion and flickers of her father’s name come back along the brief connection. Dariana backs into the room and swiftly closes the double doors, unnerved by so many people knowing the name of Baron Arthuru Kernaghan. Her heart feels like it will burst from her chest and it is made worse by the sensation that a powerful being is sharing her anxiety.
“Are you okay?” Nyx asks, putting a gentle hand on her friend’s shoulder.
“I . . . I need to go lie down,” Dariana replies with several staggered breaths. She wanders through the room, tripping over her own feet a few times. “Nobody out there knows I’m connected to you, so I would like to go into the city tomorrow. Fizzle can follow while under an invisibility spell, but the rest of you should stay indoors. There’s something I want to investigate before we decide on a course of action. Is that okay with everyone?”
“What’s wrong, Dari?” Sari asks, attracting strange looks at the nickname. “Sorry. I wanted to see how it sounded. I’ll stop.”
“I don’t want to say anything until I-”
Luke and Kellia leap to catch the collapsing telepath and crash into each other, their bodies cushioning the woman’s fall. They are about to argue when a faint snoring makes them hold their tongues and relax. The pair carefully slip out from under their sleeping friend and Kellia lifts her off the soft rug. She is surprised at how light Dariana is considering the champion is slightly taller than the heiress and has the toned body of a seasoned warrior.
“Aedyn and I will bring her to a guest room,” Kellia whispers as she cradles the muttering woman. The priest stands with the whirring of gears and tosses his figurine to Luke before going to open the doors for his fiancée. “I’ll have private rooms and baths prepared for all of you in an hour. It’s very good to see my old friends again and meet some new ones. I look forward to hearing your stories over breakfast and any other meals that we have the time to share. I promise not to sit within striking range of Luke since it seems he still has that habit of making people mad. Goodnight, everyone.”
The remaining adventurers nod to their hosts while yawning in unison, each one showing signs of their tiring journey. Within minutes, Fizzle has curled up with his plush replica and fallen asleep, the two of them releasing rainbow mist with every deep snore. Delvin tosses his figurine onto a cushioned chair and quietly leaves the room, casting a casual goodnight wave over his shoulder. The others continue examining the strange dolls until Timoran and Luke have fallen asleep at the table.
“I broke the Kira figurine,” Sari claims while she removes her boots. The smell of her feet causes her nose to wrinkle, so she tries to bathe them in warm water from her hands. All she can muster are a few spurts that are cold on her stiff toes. “I think I’m more exhausted than I realized.”
“Get some rest, little sister,” Nyx replies, gently taking the dolls off her friend’s lap.
“Do you remember when we promised we’d live together after our adventures? At least if we didn’t have anyone.”
“Yes.”
“Can I live with you and Delvin if I keep losing to Kira?”
The channeler gives the gypsy a tight hug and kisses her on the forehead. “I’ll give you as many rooms as you want. I’m sorry things are going wrong with Luke.”
“Thanks for not telling me that you saw this heartache coming,” Sari says as her emerald eyes narrow into slits. She tries to shake her head clear of the rising fog, but gives up with a loud yawn that would make Timoran proud. “I’m trying not to hate Kira since Dariana is right. Out of everyone here, I should be able to understand her pain, but all I think about is how she’s winning. I remember Kayn whenever marriage is mentioned, so I freeze and can’t give Luke a yes. It makes me wonder if I truly love him, but I think I do. Then again, I might not since I have that doubt while Kira’s heart never falters. What do you think I should do, Nyxie?”
The half-elf smiles at her friend who is gradually being taken over by a long delayed and well-earned slumber. She eases Sari down to the floor and puts a nearby pillow under the gypsy’s head, letting her hands gently run through the dark blue tresses. Stretching her arms over her head, Nyx cancels the sleep spell that she subtly cast throughout the room. She slips off her boots and tucks them into her bottomless pouch before coating her feet with thick magic that mutes her cautious footsteps. Walking throughout the room, she puts blankets over her snoring companions and moves their gear to a corner. Keeping her eye on Timoran and his restless shifting, the caster backs out of the room and softly closes the door behind her.
*****
The water bubbles around Nyx as she slips into the porcelain basin and stares through the bay window. Her groaning sigh bounces around the room as she takes in the sight of the green moon. Canst bathes the chamber in emerald light that relaxes the tense half-elf and nearly puts her to sleep. Nyx pours warm water over her hair, noticing that the ebony tresses are becoming too long for her to maintain her short style. With a wry smile, she realizes that she can cover her pointy ears and a few strands are tickling the back of her neck. It is only a matter of time and patience before she regains her long hair, but part of her wonders if she really wants to return to her former appearance. Her mind wandering, Nyx sinks beneath the surface and tries to manipulate the water without moving her body. All she does is create a few bubbles that burst into flames when they rise out of the basin. She can practically hear Casandra scolding her for being a specialist as she comes up for air.
“I am surprised you kept your hair short for so long,” Gabriel states, catching the fireball that flies off the startled caster’s hands. The spell is extinguished with a flick of his wrist and he shakes the ashes to the floor. “After all, you sacrificed your precious hair to save Stephen. It was not long after that he became your greatest enemy. Though, some could call him your biggest fan given the situation you find yourself in.”
“I kept the style to remind me that he’s still out there and that I should be cautious,” Nyx replies as she struggles to hide her body from the god. “I was going to grow it out when I killed him, but it’s taking longer than expected. Can you please give me a little privacy to dry off and put on a robe?”
“No because I am busy and your body holds no interest to me. The mercenary might dream about it, but I have seen much better,” the black-haired man casually says. An ancient part of his brain reminds him of his youthful dealings with mortal women and he clears his throat. “Do not take it personally. I live among gods and goddesses, so mortal forms are rather . . . dull. Now I have to talk to you about these toys.”
“Why are the gods concerned about some odd dolls?” the channeler as
ks. She shifts in the basin to face Gabriel, her arms covering her chest. “We’re already sure that there are gnomes helping the Baron. Are they behind this? Will these dolls come to life and try to do something to their owners, so we have to destroy them first?”
“Mortal minds do not function very well when exhausted.”
“Then you should have waited until morning,” Nyx snaps before slapping her hands over her mouth. Feeling embarrassed and exposed, the young woman changes the color of the water to black, which hides her from the neck down. “I’m sorry about that, sir. You’re busy and it’s an honor to be approached by you. I was out of line with my statement and, as one of your faithful, I should know not to speak with such a tone. Please tell me what I have to do.”
Gabriel whistles and a glowing orb with a tight network of aura strings appears above the basin. Squinting at the illusion, Nyx attempts to see through the multiple layers, but eventually gives up with a muttered curse. She is unsure if the problem is her inability to easily dispel such magic or if there are too many tiers of energy for any mortal to peel away. Singing a few chilling notes, the Destiny God has the orb unroll into a long panorama of the strings. At first, two or three of the connections sputter and turn black, but others follow in a display that gives the caster a slight headache.
“This is Windemere and what you are seeing is the curse that keeps Baron Kernaghan out of history and mortal memory,” Gabriel explains as he walks through the illusion. He removes one of the strings and shows how the entire tapestry collapses upon itself. “The spell has been woven into our world and only a chosen few have been granted freedom from its hold. Not that this network is a punishment, but the knowledge of such a monster and his actions could drive mortals into panic. Soon after his sealing, the people of Windemere became terrified that he would return, which is why this curse was designed using everything at my disposal. That includes your newest ally. Back in those days, this curse was the only way for mortal-kind to continue moving forward. At least as long as the Baron remained alive and there was nobody strong enough to kill him.”
The Merchant of Nevra Coil (Legends of Windemere Book 8) Page 6
