“They’re making fools of us,” Catarina says as she digs Bessaria out of the garbage.
“Why are there so many of them?” Kira asks while she watches Fizzle dart after another pack of Saris. Delvin and Timoran struggle to hold onto the plush drite as he careens through the air, the gypsies making him dizzy. “Can the others split into other toys? If we have an army of Fizzle dolls then we could easily round up the Saris.”
“The only reason she can possess more toys is because Yola already divided her,” Dariana replies from the middle of the street. She stuns a naked figurine with a psychic needle and pounces, only to find that the gypsy toy is no longer animated. “It appears she can jump out of them now. I just tracked the one that I almost caught and it went to another vessel two blocks over. I’m not sure if she can recombine on her own after splitting, so we might need to bring all of these replicas back with us.”
“I can, but I refuse. I mean, they refuse,” the rational Sari doll reveals. She creates an illusion of a ledge to trick a few of her fellow toys into running off the rooftops. They smash against the ground and sparks of aura dart out of the ruined forms. “At least we can destroy the bodies without causing permanent damage to me. Not that I’m going to get out of this in one piece. Once all of these Saris combine into one, I’ll have all of their memories to sort through.”
“I’m already prepared to help with your recovery,” the silver-haired champion says while taking a seat next to Catarina. She watches the Saris run around the street, the small forms laughing and yelling crude taunts at their exhausted pursuers. “They’re having too much fun and refuse to believe time is running out. I don’t remember Sari being so distrustful.”
“If you’re obsessed with pulling pranks and lying then you will always believe that others are trying to do the same to you,” Kira states while she sneaks up on a trapped figurine. She is about to grab it when Bessaria knocks her out of the way. “Damn it! That Sari is standing right there with her foot stuck. Why would you do that?”
Catarina throws a handful of white powder on the doll, which dissolves to reveal a rusty, double-edged dagger propped up between two bricks. Her hand protected by thick gloves, she plucks the weapon out of the makeshift vice to confirm it is real. With a frown, the gnome hands the dagger to Dariana and gets on Bessaria’s back. Rummaging in her pocket, she draws a metal tube that telescopes out to several feet. A chain net blooms on the end of the strange weapon and rotates until it locks in place with a small click. The calm inventor screws a crystal into the handle, which sends a tremor of energy through the metal.
“They’re getting nastier with their pranks,” Catarina says, putting goggles over her eyes. She taps the right side and the lenses turn a dull orange, their magic allowing her to see through illusions with no mental effort. “It’s possible that she has split herself so much that her impulse control is entirely gone. Don’t trust everything you see from now on. Ask and I’ll let you know if something isn’t real.”
“I can do the same, so we can divide into teams of two,” the Sari doll suggests, climbing onto Kira’s shoulder again. “Though I’m worried that they may begin targeting me. I will do my best to jump bodies and return to you if they succeed in destroying this form.”
Fizzle speeds by overhead and flips to drop Timoran and Delvin into a high balcony’s flower box. The warriors wave to their friends to prove they are unhurt before clambering through the open window. A gust of wind knocks everyone off their feet as a dragon materializes from the spiraling clouds. The crocodilian body is covered in black scales and the stench of methane grows stronger with every flap of the beast’s wings. With a strange hissing bellow, the Kelynmire Dragon takes off after Fizzle in the direction of the docks. The drite returns a few seconds later and dives under Bessaria, refusing to come out as the passing predator grunts in frustration.
“They pooled their magic and made a dragon,” Kira mutters, listening to the deep sounds of the huge creature. “First they tried to trick me into losing a few fingers and now they’re sending dragons after us. I don’t want to know what comes next.”
“This might be a really bad time to mention that my goggles are not seeing through that illusion. It isn’t real, but it isn’t really fake,” Catarina says as she removes the eyewear. She tucks the handle of her net into her belt and watches the dragon soar overhead again, a flock of griffins chasing after it. “This is impossible. The Saris are all over the city and we have no way to contain the ones that we manage to catch. An hour ago, I had four of them in one of my nets until another group tried to crush me with a wagon made of ice. We need to find a way to incapacitate them in one shot.”
“Has anyone noticed that the only people they’re causing trouble for is us?” Delvin asks as he and Timoran hurry across the street. The warriors pant as if they are tired from the fast-paced sprint, stopping when they realize that they lack the ability to breathe. “We noticed it while we were flying. They’re helping people with gardening, playing matchmaker, carrying groceries for old ladies, and lending a hand wherever else they’re needed. I think Sari is working off her desire to make others happy. With so many of her in the city, she’s able to affect more than a handful of people. Sari seems oddly restrained in that respect.”
“On the other hand, we did see a few of them encase a pickpocket in an ice coffin,” Timoran admits while he helps Delvin into one of Bessaria’s saddlebags. “Fizzle freed the man, which is why the Saris sent that dragon after him. So even if they are helping people, they are a danger to anyone they perceive as a threat. We need to stop this before it escalates.”
Knowing that she can no longer conserve her energy, Dariana rubs her temples and focuses her power. “I’ll see what I can do. This may put me under for days, so it will be up to all of you to finish our job. Once we capture the Saris, find Luke and get everyone back to Nevra Coil even if you have to leave me in Gaia.”
Dropping her arms to her sides and taking a long, deep breath, Dariana relaxes her mind and body. She waits for one of the Saris to unknowingly wander within a few yards of her before mentally snaring the toy. The telepath locks the gypsy’s essence inside the figurine and travels along its connection to the next one. She waits for the new target to finish leaping between buildings before repeating her mild attack, the curious figurine freezing on a nearby rooftop. As before, the champion departs for another target and continues pushing her mind through the entire city. Eventually, faint threads of aura appear in the sky above Gaia to create a dense network that absorbs the Kelynmire Dragon. The complicated illusion is processed into raw aura, which gives Dariana a much needed boost of energy.
Once she has found every Sari, the champion attempts to urge them into a slumber. The stubborn dolls fight back with incredible force and a wave of drowsiness nearly overtakes Dariana’s own body. Unable to win the mental battle, she tries to convince the figurines to merge into a single doll and return to Nevra Coil. For a brief moment, the telepath fears that the Saris are apart to tear her mind apart, so she pulls back just enough to keep them at bay. The silver-haired woman is unsure of what to do and the idea of turning her friend off flickers through her mind. The dark and disturbing option flickers out to the army of dolls before Dariana can stop it from escaping. Even though it is an action that she would only do to an enemy, its consideration creates a wave of anger and fear throughout the figurines. A wave of shrieking voices hits the telepath’s mind and she collapses in the middle of the street, blood trickling from her nose and ears.
“This is going to be really bad,” Catarina groans as she leaps off Bessaria and guides her to the unconscious woman. With Kira’s help, she lifts Dariana onto the wooly beast and prepares to lead them into the nearest building. The gnome stops when a wintery chill envelopes Gaia and the rooftops become lined with Sari figurines, each one’s eyes glowing pink.
The looming chaos starts with distant yelling and doors being slammed, the noise growing by the second. Windows shudder as h
undreds of people march out of their homes and pour into the icy street. All of them are slow and groggy as if they were abruptly awakened from a deep sleep. Roaring screeches drown out the citizens’ incoherent mumbling, but none of the people stir from the citywide trance. Only the hapless adventurers are able to pay attention to the pandemonium occurring over the rooftops. The small group watches as griffin riders wrestle with their mounts in an attempt to attack those who have threatened their precious mistresses. The soldiers do not get very far because their noble steeds remain unaffected by the magic and refuse to do harm to those they know are innocent.
Not wanting to wait for things to get worse, Catarina swats her loyal steed on the rump to send the sheep charging away with Dariana. The gnome grabs Kira by the arm and yanks her a few steps to snap the heiress out of a trance. Chanting voices can be heard from around the corner and two people fall into view after Bessaria barrels into them. Wanting to catch up, the others are about to sprint forward when the sheep comes rushing back with a mob of citizens behind her. Another crowd is approaching from the far end of the street, forcing the small group to rush into an alley. They can see the Saris staring at them from above while the murderous shouts of the crowd bounce off the walls. With Bessaria in the lead, they burst into the open only to find more people who are enamored by the powerful charm spell.
Before they are engulfed by the mob, a black-feathered griffin crashes into the street and uses its wings to clear a path to another alley. Bessaria wastes no time rushing for the opening and butts her solid head against anyone that tries to grab her. The sheep’s struggling wakes Dariana, who puts several people in the crowd to sleep. The telepath is still too weak to physically fight back when an Orcish blacksmith drags her from the saddle. The blunt end of Kira’s weapon slams into his pronounced jaw, causing him to drop the champion. Catarina dives onto Dariana to protect her from the crowd and throws a metallic blanket over them. The flexible fabric hardens and fuses itself to the ground, shielding the pair from attacks.
“That doesn’t help the rest of us,” Kira points out while swatting and kicking at the glassy-eyed people reaching for her. “I don’t want to use my weapon on them. Can you do anything, Sari? This spell came from your aura too.”
“I’ve been trying, but all I can do is make a few people kiss,” replies the figurine on her shoulder. She attempts another counterspell, but it only makes a burly dwarf grin and giggle like a flirting schoolgirl. “The other Saris combined their magic, so I’m basically fighting an army of likeminded casters. We’re going to need a non-magical way out of this mess. Any ideas on how to defeat an entire city and the gods only know how many Saris? You’re the closest thing to a warrior that we have right now, so I think it’s up to you.”
Kira strikes the ground with her weapon, which sends sparks into the crowd. The people retreat from the wild flailing, their trance weakened by a desire not to get hurt. “That didn’t really sound like a compliment. Besides, there’s no way for me to get to the figurines without hurting their victims. I’m already feeling bad about hitting that orc in the face, which was instinct. So unless you know of a way that I can fight the other yous without interference . . . I should have thought of this before.”
The Sari doll shivers at the twisted smile on the heiress’s face, the expression paired with a sadistic glint in her green eyes. “What are you going to do?”
With terrifying blows to the pavement, Kira makes a path to a nearby lamppost. She spins to clear some space around her and hooks her sickle to the top of the pole. Vaulting off a charging halfling, she yanks herself out of reach and takes a seat on the unlit lantern. The charmed mob try their best to shake her off the perch, but she shatters a nearby window with the blunt end of her weapon to startle them.
“I’m making a public challenge to the Saris!” the heiress announces over the snarling crowd. She can hear the figurines shift uncomfortably at the thought of a physical confrontation. “We go to the arena and settle this. If I win, you stop this and come with us to Nevra Coil. If you win, we’ll let you stay in the toys and only the rational Sari will return to your original body. Do we have a deal?”
The figurines on the nearest rooftop move to let a Sari through, her blue and yellow dress shimmering more than the others. She repeatedly whispers to the nearest toys, but she never looks away from Kira. After a few minutes, the leader claps her hands and points across the street to where a pack of toys are dragging something toward the eave. The heiress audibly growls at the sight of the possessed Luke figurine dangling over the edge of the rooftop, his mouth gagged and his limbs tied to strings as if he is a marionette. One of his feet looks to have been stolen from another doll, the black boot resembling the type found on the Delvin toys. The Saris around the half-elf reach out to stroke his arms and a few bravely lean over to kiss his cheeks.
“I found our love in the sewers. He was about to be devoured by bugs and I saved him,” the leader of the figurines announces to the applause of her followers. “These are our terms. If you win, we will hand him over to you. If we win, you will never claim to love him again and he will be ours. We’ll even go back to Nevra Coil to reclaim our body under both conditions. That way we can be with each other in the flesh. Do you agree to these terms?”
“I agree, but I want to make one change to the contest,” Kira answers, licking her lips like a starving predator.
A rumble of tiny voices rolls over the city before the leader holds up her hand. “Then we have a deal. Winner takes Luke Callindor. What’s the change?”
The heiress drops from the lamppost and wraps her weapon around her body. “This fight is to the death!”
*****
The arena is filled to the top level as people wait for the challenge to commence. Boisterous vendors wander through the seats to sell their wares, many of them running out within the first two hours. Those that cannot get inside the arena have found other ways to see their beloved mistresses battle the despised Kira Grasdon. Some have used their contacts to get a seat on one of the griffins that are hovering overhead, some carrying as many as three people. The beasts are calmer now that they are not being told to attack, but there is a hint of tension whenever the spectators yell. Any rooftop that is high enough to give even a partial view into the ancient structure is dotted with excited citizens. Enamored casters are on the ground with viewing portals that hang above their heads, each one showing the fighting area from a different angle. A cheer rises from the crowd every time one of the Saris waves, smiles, or sends a snowball into the stands.
Kira watches the display from behind an entry gate, the heiress patiently waiting for the judge to appear in the stone basket suspended above the arena. Excited nerves driving her to stay active, she checks the straps on her armor for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. Unable to tighten them any more, she moves on to polishing a turquoise ring, which is shaped like a jellyfish. Another cheer from the crowd makes her curse and she pats the weapon coiled around her body. With a hungry lick of her lips, she imagines tearing into the figurines that have begun shouting insults in her direction.
“I sense you’re looking forward to this a bit too much,” the rational Sari doll says from her perch on a stone shelf. “I thought we were on better terms. Yet you look like you want to murder me . . . repeatedly.”
“They have Luke,” Kira bluntly replies as she paces around the small room. She stops to stretch her legs, the muscles feeling stiff from her tension. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not lumping you in with them. My anger is specifically aimed at those obnoxious, greedy, arrogant pains in my neck.”
The figurine climbs into the window to see the others make lewd gestures at the gate. “I find it hard to argue with your description. Are you sure you can defeat them? All of them have naiad powers and illusions, so it would be like fighting the multiples of the complete Sari. You’ll be swarmed immediately.”
“My equipment and skills will keep me safe. I have a secret weapon to
o,” the brown-skinned woman replies, scowling at the idea that she could lose. She hits the metal gate with her weapon when she sees Luke dangled over the suspended judge’s seat. “They keep making it easier and easier to hate them. You might want to avert your eyes from this.”
Fizzle lands on the ledge next to Sari, the drite looking worried. “What happen to friend aura when toys killed? Will return or old Sari be lost? More toys appear and join? That make endless fight.”
A silence washes over the room, broken only by the occasional clop of Bessaria’s hooves on the stone floor. It is the first time anybody has brought up the idea that this fight could go on forever or that Sari might be fundamentally changed in the aftermath. It is the first scenario that presently worries most of the adventurers. They have already seen that the gypsy’s essence leaves a damaged toy and possesses a new one, so they all know it is possible that the battle can go on until Kira is defeated. The heiress curses and hits the gate again, her heated weapon leaving a red gouge in the iron bars.
“There is not an infinite number of figurines in the city, so it is more a question of Kira’s endurance,” Timoran explains. The barbarian is standing on a weapon rack, his arms crossed as he listens to the crowd. “The bigger problem is what happens to Sari’s aura when all of the figurines are destroyed. There is the chance that Windemere will reclaim it as if she is dead. In that case, we would be left with the one that is with us now. No offense, but you are only a fraction of our friend and it appears your power would be significantly reduced as well. It could lead to the end of your time as a champion.”
The Merchant of Nevra Coil (Legends of Windemere Book 8) Page 32
