“Yeah,” replied Escalla sleepily. Her eyes were wide open as she sat in her bed of beaver fur. Jus gave her a glance, nodded as he saw her awake and alert, then slipped stealthily into the dawn like a wolf upon the prowl.
Behind him, Escalla stayed upright in bed, eyes staring blankly at the wall.
“…but if it was orange, how would they put wheels on it?” The faerie fell backward, continuing her rather strange little dream. At her side, a fresh bouquet of flowers suddenly gleamed in the light—delicate champagne roses, still frosted with dew.
Escalla turned over in her bed and breathed the scent of roses. Tucked into a ball, the little faerie smiled and hugged her pillow in her sleep.
* * *
In the cold light of dawn, a soft mist filled the village streets as sunlight warmed the nights dew. Even the old gray thatch on cottage roofs seethed with steam as the warmth of morning set in.
The Justicar stalked carefully, scanning for the slightest marks upon the silver frost. He walked only in the lee of the buildings where the dew lay thin and unfrozen. He kept low, moving as stealthily as a rustle in the breeze.
To the north, somewhere along the old weed-grown road, smoke was rising slowly in the dawn—light, clean smoke, probably kitchen fires. Jus filed the information in his head, never once ceasing his careful search of the ruined village. Pausing at the huge skull of a long-dead giant. Jus watched the empty streets.
Magic. Cinders let the air run across his nose, his ears pricked up into wicked points as he searched for signs of life. On the roof, one house to left. More magic—house roof on right.
The grass outside the tavern dripped. Something had brushed the frost and set it melting. The Justicar knelt, scanned the roofs above, then carefully examined the grass.
One shutter had been opened—just a tiny slit scarcely large enough to admit a cat. Caught on the wooden shutter, a thin silken thread drifted in the breeze. Blue and almost metallic in color, the tiny thread now hung like a microscopic banner. Jus left it where it lay, narrowed his eyes, then faded behind a stand of dead, dry weeds.
On the rooftops above, nothing moved, but he could feel something there. Traveling with Escalla had taught him the knack of seeing the faint ripples where an invisible creature passed. On the thatching, the neat array of straw wavered slightly as an unseen creature shifted its stance.
It could not help but have seen him. Jus deliberately rose, passed his gaze across the rooftops as though seeing nothing, then went walking slowly down the open street. Above his helmet, Cinders grinned a gleeful, manic grin. The two partners moved quietly down the street. Obligingly, the attack came from the roof just above.
A blinding light stabbed downward. The Justicar whirled, put his back to the blast, and hunched as a fireball exploded all about him. Cinders’ black fur took the heat of the blast.
The Justicar was already on the attack. Burned and streaming flames, the Justicar leaped through the dissipating fire, his black sword already clearing its scabbard. Cinders’ head swung, and a vicious column of flame shot from the hell hound’s jaws to blast the rooftops above.
Something screamed, and suddenly a shape materialized. The tiny blue figure staggered, beating at itself. It shifted shape, changing even as it dropped out of view.
Leaping across broken roofs, the blue-clad figure seemed nearly human, but it was only two feet tall and sported a pixie’s wings. Long black hair streamed in the wind as the creature landed on its perch and turned a look of hatred at the Justicar. The creature wore a cloak that had been sliced almost in half—a cut long and precise. Scorched blue threads trailed from the damaged cloth.
Cinders fired again before the creature could finish the spell half woven on its lips. It dodged aside, taking a painful blast of fire. The creature turned invisible and fled, speeding so swiftly through the leaves that twigs shattered as it passed.
Thatching gave a single tiny crack. Jus dived through a cottage window, just as a spell thundered down from another roof farther along the street. The second visitor had opened fire, missing Jus but collapsing an entire row of houses. The assassin leaped from roof to roof, invisible and fast, then sped over to the rubble. Mud and wattle steamed. Thatch burned. Hissing, the assassin pounced upon a rooftop and tried to catch sight of its prey.
A black sword blade erupted through the thatch, ripping a line of blood from the invisible assassin. The creature screamed a feminine scream, rolling aside as the black blade stabbed through the roof again.
The Justicar burst upward through the straw, roaring like a mad god as he ploughed the black blade through empty air, trying to cut his invisible assailant down. Visible at last, the assassin briefly took the form of a pixie and then suddenly became a spider with butterfly wings. The winged arachnid managed to tumble sideways and stab out a spell that filled the street with shards of flying ice. The Justicar disappeared in the hissing torrent of razor-sharp frost, and a triumphant laugh rang out. Seeing its spell strike home, the intruder hovered and laughed viciously, peering through the ice clouds and looking for its victim’s corpse.
Streaming blood, the Justicar flung himself upward from the ice cloud, scything his black sword downward at his enemy. The spider-creature screamed and tried to leap aside. The sword tip narrowly scored a cut across its back, springing blood into the air. The spider-creature sped aside, landed on a roof ridge, and cocked back its limbs to summon energy for another savage spell.
“Jus!”
The entire house the creature stood upon exploded. Hovering outside the tavern clutching her beaver skins about her shoulders, Escalla snarled and blasted energy into the distant hut. Her enemy dodged, spider eyes wide. Blinded by the power discharge, Escalla ripped her spell sideways in pursuit of her unseen enemy, gouging stones from walls and sending thatched roofs tumbling in a cloud of straw.
As the flying spider fled into the ruined cottages, a swarm of little golden bees sped out from Escalla’s hands. The magic insects swirled in a mad shield all about the Justicar. As a lightning bolt stabbed out from a ruined house nearby, the bee swarm darted and swatted the energies aside. Escalla snarled in glee as she saw a dark shape run flitting through the weeds.
“Hey, spider! Suck on this!”
Escalla slammed her hands toward the ground, and a savage ripple tore the earth toward her enemy. Black tentacles writhed upward from the street, lunging for prey.
With a curse, Escalla’s enemy dived through a garden archway. Light flashed, and the assassin disappeared. The hungry tentacles slammed against the archway and tore it to shreds in a petulant burst of anger.
Stones cascaded to the street. Maddened tentacles thrashed. Clutching a bleeding shoulder, the Justicar hunched in the street, his face savage, golden bees still weaving about him in a dancing shield. Magic flashed as he shoved a healing spell into his shoulder, then another into his left hand. Burns and wounds closed over. Ignoring the hurt, the big man straightened and looked toward the thrashing tentacles.
“Thank you.”
The dancing bees faded and disappeared. Escalla settled down to land upon Jus’ unwounded shoulder, pulling her beaver pelt about her naked skin.
“What was that?”
“Spies.” Jus lifted his sword. The tip showed a brief sheen of blood to which a fine metallic blue thread adhered. “There were two of them, shapeshifters.”
“Shapeshifters?” Escalla carefully lifted her hand and spellfire shone. She coldly and efficiently scanned the village. “Nothing. They’ve gone now.”
Jus examined his black scale armor where an ice bolt had punched a ragged hole through the shoulder and into the flesh beneath.
“Small. Magic using. One of them looked like you.”
“Like me?”
Dismissing it with a quirk of her brow, the faerie gave a superior little smile. “That’s really unlikely.”
“Small humanoid. Wings.”
Escalla turned to take a sharp look at where her foe had disappeared. She s
tared for a moment in puzzlement, then shrugged and dismissed the whole idea.
“If it was a shapeshifter, then it could be anything.” The girl shivered in the cold and tugged her beaver skin tight. “Are you all right?”
“It will pass. It’s only pain.”
“J-man, did I ever tell you that you’re my hero?” Escalla ruffled Cinders’ fur, patting both of her friends on the head. “Let’s get indoors. I forgot my wand.”
“And your clothes.”
“Hey, man! I just woke up!” The girl opened her hands in protest then made a grab for her beaver skin. “I rescued you!”
“So you didn’t rouse the others as I told you?”
“Sure I did!” Escalla rolled her eyes. “They all fell back to sleep. You know those guys—not a dedicated bone in their bodies.”
“Right.”
The Justicar took a careful look at the weeds, frost, and buildings. Hell hound flame, magic spells, and tentacles had combined to obliterate any hope of tracks and evidence.
“Cinders, anything still here?”
Gone. All gone. The hell hound watched a cottage roof burn and happily wagged his tail. Burn bad guy! Funny!
Jus reached up to pat the hell hound and said, “Good boy. You just keep burning them.”
The threesome trudged back up the street, Jus stepping over the ruins left by Escalla’s tentacle spell. The big man looked at the spell’s remnants and gave a grunt. “Good spell.”
“You like it?” Escalla preened. She sidled closer, waggling her brows. “Hey, Jus! I finished reading that spellbook.”
“And?”
“We got stoneskin.”
“Stoneskin?”
“A spell! Oh, it’s hotter than a volcano. This one you’re going to love!” Escalla rubbed her hands together. “I just need a teeny eeny little ingredient or two. You reckon we can find some diamond dust anywhere?”
The Justicar looked at the girl and said, “We have exactly eleven gold pieces left.”
“Ack.” Escalla crossed her legs as she sat on Jus’ shoulder. “Well if you see any diamonds, give me a yell.”
“We will not steal diamonds.”
“Steal?” Planting her hands at her breast, Escalla goggled at the mere thought. “Would I steal?”
“Yes.”
“What!” Escalla puffed up, feeling her honor impugned but lacking evidence or moral ground to stand on. “For your information, when faerie girls take something, it’s loveable! It’s not stealing!”
“No diamonds.”
“Well, unowned ones then! You know they grow in the ground somewhere.”
Escalla, Jus, and Cinders stared once again across the quiet roofs.
The faerie drew her brows into a frown. “Shapeshifters, huh? We must have pissed someone off mightily.”
“Someone has plans we must be interfering with.” Jus flexed his hands. “Be careful.”
* * *
Outside the tavern, the open street offered the best view of the surrounding land. Smoothing Polk’s map under his hands, the Justicar looked thoughtfully at his painted lines and squiggles. The map was hopelessly inaccurate. The party’s position could be virtually anywhere dozens of miles from where he imagined them to be.
To the southeast lay the sea. To the west lay a ruined castle in which Escalla’s hydra had made its lair. Northward, many hundreds of miles away, lay Furyondy and Hommlet. Keoland was a broad kingdom. The forest supposedly served as its southern border, although the map seemed to be made mostly from wishful thinking and pure guesswork.
The road through the village seemed old and abandoned, yet perhaps it led to another settlement where they could find directions and purchase food. The smoke he had seen earlier in the morning seemed to suggest that there was some sort of settlement nearby. Jus amassed his information swiftly and methodically, while behind him ash cakes baked in the tavern’s hearth for breakfast.
Blowing through his scraggly moustache, Polk watched disapprovingly from afar. He finally marched out of the tavern and took position behind the Justicar’s map.
Jus folded the map without bothering to look up. “Polk, shut up.”
“What are you readin’ for, son? You’re addled! Touched in the skull!” Polk squared his silly hat upon his head. “This is a time for action, boy! A time for sword and blades and magic!” Polk stamped in impatience at a student who seemed to be eternally dim. “Never mind the maps. Let instinct be our guide!”
“Polk, you have personally managed to put us at least three hundred miles off course.” The Justicar’s voice rumbled in an ursine growl. “Let me tell you just how much I respect your instincts.”
Cinders lay spread across the table, his shark-toothed grin gleaming with a piece of coal between his jaws. The Justicar borrowed a coal flake to draw on the map.
“May I?”
Welcome!
“Polk!” Jus drew a circle around the supposed location of distant Hommlet. “We have just been attacked by something that seemed really annoyed.” The ranger tapped a finger on the map, guessing at the possible flow of local rivers. “I’m in favor of moving very carefully and fairly swiftly, looking for inhabited villages and keeping our heads down while we see who might want us dead.”
Enid had found a tall stone tower at the edge of the village. On tables dragged from a dozen houses, she had begun laying out scrolls, riddles, books, and parchments found on an eventful journey from Trigol. More loot from the ruined castle’s library gave her even more toys to play with. Plain and sweetly curious, she was reading through her books and thoroughly enjoying herself. She looked over the edge of a scorched volume, raised her brows, and said, “Aren’t we staying here, then? I was so looking forward to catching up on a book or two!”
“Someone apparently doesn’t want us to stay.”
Jus stored the map, patted Cinders, and then cocked one brow as a strange noise came drifting from the tavern door.
Light-hearted, happy singing astounded one and all. It came pure and sweet, a girlish voice without a trouble in the world.
Through a window, Escalla could be seen hovering in mid air. She had fixed her hair and wore a beautiful silk costume bought in Trigol. She primped herself happily in a mirror, then turned a little pirouette.
The faerie drifted lightly out into the morning air, twirling merrily as she came. On seeing Jus she paused, made a knowing little smile, and then hovered at his shoulder with her head tilted to one side. She smiled secretly at him for a moment. Finally, to everyone’s shock, Escalla kissed him on the ear and said, “You’re most welcome.”
Jus stared in wonderment. The faerie hovered, looking at him with a strangely satisfied smile, and then fluttered back into the tavern.
Cinders’ red eyes gleamed. Faerie give a kiss! Faerie give a kiss!
Jus’ ear tingled. He actually turned a strange shade of reddish pink. Polk joined him in staring at the tavern door. The teamster cleared his throat into the silence.
“Spring?”
Enid blinked and said, “Autumn’s only just begun.”
“Maybe faeries get it early?”
“Oh, dear.”
Jus wonderingly touched his ear—still red hot from Escalla’s kiss. He blinked, shook himself, then swept his maps efficiently underneath his arm.
“All right! Let’s get fed. There’s smoke about three miles to the north. We’ll leave in ten minutes, head north, and investigate. Enid, if you want to organize your books, you might want to stay here while we go to town and fly after us in a”—Jus sniffed at a strange odor—“in… in a…”
Something was frying, possibly bacon, possibly honey. A sickeningly sweet stench redolent of dental cavities coiled about the village roofs. A pan banged noisily from the tavern room, and Escalla’s voice pealed into the street.
“Breakfast! Come on, adventurers! Get it while it’s hot!”
Enid and Polk uneasily looked at one another. The sphinx looked a little pale as she said, “Escal
la cooked?”
“She cooked.” Polk bit his lip in trepidation “Well, ah, she is a girl. I kinda guess all girls can cook.”
Escalla had a metabolism like a hummingbird. Her concept of a happy breakfast had enough sugar in it to turn grown men into gibbering loons.
Jus gave a sigh and tightened up his sword belt. “This could be interesting.”
Enid blinked and said, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Inside the tavern, Escalla had laid out a dented old serving platter full of food. She hovered above the table, pleased as a cat swimming in cream, and very ostentatiously primped a vase of champagne roses at the center of the table.
“There was honey in a pot in the pantry, and we still had sugar, so I made cakes and bacon!” Breakfast gleamed beneath a sweet glaze of sugar crystals. “Eat hearty!”
Everyone stared at Escalla’s creation, which sat there gleaming under an ocean of syrup. The faerie personally made sure that everybody had a helping. She put extra syrup on her own plate, dipped waybread into the mixture and crammed it straight into her mouth.
“’S good! Try shome!”
With painfully polite expressions, the faerie’s companions all tried the meal one by one. It had a jolt like an electric eel. Everyone made a great show of swallowing and nodding, making Escalla beam.
The faerie had brewed tea in a big rusty kettle she found in a cupboard. The resulting brew was colored half by rust and half by tea leaves. She happily poured the mixture into tin mugs for one and all. Polk sniffed at it, looked at the Justicar with the eyes of a man who had just been handed hemlock, and watched Escalla as she went about her chores.
“Aren’t you drinkin’ any, girl?”
“Oh no. Tea makes me hyper!”
Sitting beside her bouquet of roses, Escalla sat on her hands and happily watched Jus as he ate. In his time, the man had been stabbed, cut, burned, bashed, bitten, clawed, and gnawed upon, so this seemed comparatively mild torture. He stoically drank the tea and ate the food, consuming it slowly and carefully without batting an eye.
Escalla primped the roses again, looking about and hoping that everyone noticed the flowers. She then came whirring over to land at Jus’ side. She looked at him with a wry fondness and then chucked him on the chin.
Descent into the Depths of the Earth Page 3
