by M. Gregg Roe
A stray arrow struck the wall section behind her, but it just broke and fell in two pieces, causing no visible damage. (The castle was arrow-proof. Hurray!) The chieftain made a sharp gesture, and the arrows suddenly stopped. There might be hope for him yet. Or maybe they were just running low on arrows.
Audrey struck instantly when the shaman rejoined the two orc zombies that were apparently his personal guard. (As far as she was concerned, any spell-caster that created undead deserved to die.) The three Freezing Globes, actually more like large balls of slush until they hit their target, struck all three of them low, literally freezing them in place. The three Incendiary Globes that followed blew the zombies to flaming bits and turned the shaman into a giant torch, which was probably why he was screaming so loudly. None of the orcs were running away, but they seemed to be competing to see who could edge backwards the fastest.
The shaman thankfully expired as she strode casually forward toward the chieftain. A rusty metal helmet that didn’t fit well partly hid his mottled brown porcine features. The curved sword held shakily with both hands had also seen better days.
Despite her unimpressive appearance, Audrey drew herself up and attempted to speak with authority. “Never come near this place again, and I’ll let the rest of you live.”
“This yours?” he asked in a harsh voice.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, raising her right fist and shaking it at him. “This area is to be home to my enchanted fortress.” That sounded more impressive than magic castle. “Tell others of your kind of my power. Begone!”
The orc sheathed his sword and then bowed. “We obey. What we call you?”
If only she had a more impressive-sounding name. Then inspiration struck. “I am Andora, daughter of Andoran!”
This time all the orcs prostrated themselves, making her feel a little guilty but also somewhat proud. She began to slowly ascend, and they stared at her in awe as they rose to their feet before retreating. She remained in the air above them as they used a primitive raft to return to the other side of the river. When they had all crossed, she blasted the raft to bits with more Incendiary Globes.
Deciding that she would clean up the mess near the castle later, Audrey teleported home and went back to bed. Andora needed her sleep.
[ 26 ]
Tragic Past
Aliva took her time looking over the sketches that Audrey had brought on her latest random visit. The woman had a talent for clothing design, but this wasn’t exactly something normal. It was a costume.
“What about a cape?” Aliva asked. “It would look impressive when you fly around.”
Audrey scrunched up her face as she thought about it. “Maybe a short one. I’ll think about it. You really don’t think this is a stupid idea?”
“No, not at all.” The subject of their conversation was Audrey’s plan for Andora, her newly created alter ego. “I don’t think you need a mask,” Aliva continued. “You’re not likely to be wearing this in front of people that would recognize you.”
“That’s true,” Audrey said, nodding. “Andoran’s daughter is proud and arrogant. She would never hide her face.”
“Or her cleavage?” Aliva said, pointing at the sketch. Andora’s costume showed a great deal of skin.
“Maybe Andora enjoys showing off her cleavage,” Audrey countered, thrusting out her chest.
Maybe she did. A false persona really could be useful for Audrey in her current situation. Even dressed simply, the orcs hadn’t questioned her claim to be Andoran’s daughter after she had shown her power. Her only real mistake had been not making it clear why she had killed the orc shaman.
“You’re right,” Audrey said after Aliva pointed that out. “Andora despises undead and those that create them. I’ll make that clear from now on.”
“The goal is to make potential enemies respect Andora’s power,” Aliva explained. “Then the fear of angering Andora will keep them in line.”
Audrey laughed. “The fear of Andora—I like that.”
“I also think Andora should speak formally,” Aliva told her friend. “You could even try deepening your voice.”
After pausing briefly, Audrey said, “Andora will give serious consideration to your advice,” in a slightly deeper voice.
Aliva made a quick sketch on a piece of scrap paper. “What if you gave her armor? Not real armor—just pieces of soft leather that mimic the appearance.”
“I’ve never worked with leather,” Audrey said, frowning at the sketch. “But I like the idea. What about some kind of weapon to go with it? Maybe a sword?”
It was another apt suggestion. Aliva’s enchanted saber, whose blade always looked like it was red hot, would be perfect. But she wasn’t about to part with something that her father had made for her. “A sword would complete the look,” she agreed, “but it needs to be unusual. It’s all about appearances.”
“I’ll look for one in that cavern,” Audrey said absently. “I also want to wear a wig with the outfit. That way I don’t have to worry if my hair is a mess.”
That led to a lengthy discussion. The wig didn’t have to be a natural color, or a single color. But ordering something too exotic might attract unwanted attention. Audrey finally decided that it should be a metallic color with elaborate braiding. She favored either gold or silver, but Aliva thought copper was a better match for Audrey’s skin tone.
Over a simple lunch, Aliva updated Audrey on the latest Romee news, detailing the girl’s painfully slow romance with Lars. In return, she heard all about the plans to deal with whatever might emerge from the castle or show up to claim it. The mention of Mardan’s involvement made her wonder if Zyrahi’s true purpose involved the castle.
“I’m taking Romee to visit the memorial on her next day off,” Aliva said, watching as Audrey gathered up the various sketches. The request had caught both her and Stanley by surprise.
“That’s going to be hard,” Audrey commented with a glum look. “I can’t visit there myself without falling to pieces. All those memories…” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Thank you, Aliva. I think Romee is happier here than she was at the mansion, maybe partly because she doesn’t have to deal with Ilona and Iris.”
There was probably some truth to that, but Aliva knew Romee missed the two girls who were essentially her younger sisters. They had lived near each other all their lives.
“Stanley and I are doing our best,” Aliva told her. “Let me know if you need help with your costume.”
“I’ll probably have you do the leather part. Or maybe teach me to do it.” Audrey flashed a smile. “Take care.” And then she was gone.
After a heavy sigh, Aliva went to clean up the kitchen. She didn’t like visiting the memorial either. It stirred up too many unpleasant memories.
From a distance, Aliva watched Romee hesitantly approach the black stone monument. The girl’s lips moved slightly as she read the names with an expression of sorrow. That side of the monolith listed all of those who had perished when Farmerton was destroyed by fire five years ago, including those whose bodies had never been found. The other side had a brief history of the village, a description of its demise, and a list of the known survivors, which included Romee, Ilona, and Iris. Audrey wasn’t listed because she had moved away well before the disaster.
Flying had allowed them to cover the roughly thirty-mile distance rapidly, arriving before noon. That had also helped keep them cool on a hot and sunny day. Even now there was barely a cloud to be seen in the crisp blue sky.
Tears began to run down Romee’s cheeks, which probably meant that she had reached the names of her parents. Her father had been Farmerton’s mayor, and her mother one of those who looked after visitors to the village. Aliva had met both of them before the tragedy. They had been good people, kind and friendly.
Aliva suddenly noticed a goblin standing beneath a tree to her right. The old elm was one of the few trees that had survived the fire, and it provided a wide area of shade. He glanced over
as she walked in his direction. The squat, black-skinned humanoid wore black-dyed leather armor over black clothing. His features were harsh—ugly by most standards, but normal for goblins. Large amber eyes and pointed teeth added to the menacing appearance. For weapons, he had both a curved sword and a small crossbow made of dark wood, but both simply hung from his belt.
“You were seen flying up,” he said when she was close. The voice was deep and guttural, but not hard to understand.
Aliva nodded toward the monument. “That girl is one of the survivors.”
He looked away. “I didn’t see the fire, but I was one of those who searched for survivors afterward. We found none.”
There had been a time when goblins were a scourge, robbing travelers and sometimes even attacking small villages. That behavior had led to them being hunted in turn. Several years ago, for reasons known only to the goblins, they sought a different course. When Novox began running caravans north from Rohoville, goblins had gone from harassing them to offering to serve as paid guards over the most dangerous stretch, which was between Merryton and Rohoville. That proved beneficial for everyone. Friendly goblins were now the norm, at least in this region.
The village most people now referred to as Goblinton lay three miles to the north, which was why she hadn’t been surprised to encounter one. Goblins tended to the monument and surrounding area. After the tragedy, they had dug through the ruins, retrieving everything that might have value. Tools and crockery they had kept, but coins, jewelry, and anything that might be a keepsake had eventually found its way to the survivors living in the Witch’s City. That included the infamous brooch that had so altered Audrey’s life.
“I will leave you be,” the goblin said to her, then turned and walked away.
Lost in her own thoughts, Aliva continued to observe Romee. The girl walked around to the other side of the monument and stared at it for a long while. Then she joined Aliva in the shade.
“It’s nice,” Romee said, brushing away tears. “Dwarves made it?”
“Yes.” The dwarves of Hard Rock City had even transported it there and erected it. “Would you like something to eat?” Aliva had brought along both food and drink.
“I’m not hungry.” Romee bit down on her lower lip. “I want to walk around.”
“Of course. We can stay as long as you want.”
Aliva trailed behind as Romee headed south. It wasn’t long before the girl stopped. After turning in a complete circle, she said, “I can’t tell if this is the place. It all looks different.”
It took a moment for Aliva to understand that Romee was trying to locate the spot where her house had been. With everything so grown up, including many young trees and thick bushes, it really was hard to picture where the individual houses had stood. All Aliva knew for certain was that the monument stood where the village’s common area had been.
“All gone,” Romee sobbed, falling to her knees. “There’s nothing left.”
Aliva rushed over and put a hand on Romee’s shoulder, but she didn’t know what to say.
“I still miss them,” Romee wailed. “I still dream about them. And the fire. Everything was burning, even the sky.”
The fire had gone out of control at the worst time, on an evening with swirling winds and dry conditions. Even if everyone had been healthy, the village would have sustained significant damage. With so many dead or dying, there had been no hope of containing it. Everything had burned.
Of the survivors, Romee had been the last one to escape as the fire spread, obeying her dying mother’s last command. Feverish with the same disease that had contributed to the village’s demise, Romee had stumbled her way south until she fell unconscious. Luck had favored the girl then. Goblins found her and tended her the best they could before turning her over to three people sent by the Temple of Kyran. After brief stopovers in Merryton and Rohoville, Romee had been brought to the Witch’s City.
Sweltering in the noonday sun, Aliva helped Romee to her feet and walked her to a nearby cluster of young oaks. Romee sat down heavily in the grass, and Aliva kneeled down beside her.
“Will I see them after I die?” Romee rasped, her eyes wide with misery.
The question startled her, and Aliva thought carefully about how to answer. Even people who had been dead for a long time before being brought back remembered nothing. Some claimed that meant there was no afterlife, but it might mean that their memory of it had been erased. Or maybe you only went to the afterlife after your final death. She could try asking Lasrina, but it was doubtful the goddess would answer.
“That’s what I believe,” Aliva told her sincerely.
“That’s good,” Romee said, smiling unconvincingly. “I want to see them again. I still think about them all the time.”
Aliva could sympathize. A day rarely passed in which she didn’t think about her own dead mother. “There’s nothing wrong with that. One way people live on after death is in the memories of those who loved them.” Aliva’s father had told her that frequently when they were both mourning, and it had been a real comfort.
“You’re smart,” Romee said. “From now on, if people ask me about my parents I’ll tell them the truth, even if it hurts or makes me cry.”
“Now you sound like the smart one,” Aliva told her, wondering if that was really a good idea.
Romee shook her head. “Why did the gods let something like this happen?” she begged. “Did we do something wrong?”
“Sometimes bad things just happen,” Aliva said, carefully maintaining a neutral expression. “The gods aren’t responsible for everything.”
“Then what good are they?” Romee retorted. “I’m not gonna pray to them anymore.” She snatched up a long blade of grass and started shredding it, tearing off small pieces and letting them fall.
Aliva wiped her brow and then shook the moisture off her hand. It really was abominably hot.
“Is there a god of combat?” Romee asked, starting in on a second blade. The repetitive action seemed to be calming her.
Aliva was certain that Romee had been taught all about the various deities, but the girl probably hadn’t been paying attention. “Bartik is the god of battle. He’s said to be a son of Karth.”
“Then I’ll start praying to him,” Romee said, contradicting her earlier statement. “I prayed to Lasrina because I wanted to be beautiful, but that didn’t work. I’ll try Bartik. Maybe that’ll help me learn to fight better.”
The sound of Lasrina’s amused laughter filled Aliva’s head, causing her to grind her teeth. This was no laughing matter.
“Do you want to head back now?” Aliva asked gently.
Romee paused just before plucking another blade of grass. “Let’s eat first. Then can we stop at Merryton on the way back? There’s a family there that used to live in Farmerton. They were lucky they moved there when they did.”
“Of course,” Aliva said, smiling as she handed the sack of food to Romee. She left unsaid the fact that there had been others who had moved to Farmerton not long before its destruction. They hadn’t been so lucky.
Between the two of them, they finished all the bread, cheese, and apple juice. Then it was time to take to the air again. Puffy clouds had begun to appear, but it didn’t look or feel like rain was imminent.
In Merryton, Aliva strolled around as she waited for Romee to finish her visit. The lively village had a prosperous look. She counted eight houses under construction, as well as a large building that would be the village’s first inn. Soon it really would deserve to be called a town.
On the way north that morning, they had spotted a Novox caravan headed the same way. (It was hard to miss a large wagon surrounded by goblin warriors and being pulled by a giant lizard.) They spotted it again shortly after departing Merryton. The caravan would probably continue to Goblinton or even Fisherton before stopping for the night. Carrying both goods and passengers, they were an important part of the economy of the Fog Lake region.
Aliva’s tho
ughts were in turmoil as she flew them back. There were things she had told no one, deductions based on tidbits of information gleaned from conversations with Lasrina. Farmerton had to burn so that the brooch would be found in the ruins. Good-hearted goblins had to present in the area to ensure that the brooch ended up in Audrey’s hands. And so was created the Guardian of Andoran’s Realm. The gods were playing some unfathomable game, and Audrey was obviously an important piece. The unfortunate villagers, including Romee’s parents, had just been collateral damage, sacrificed without hesitation or care.
The voice of the goddess suddenly intruded. Most of the villagers had already died before the fire reached them.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Aliva whispered. The breeze created by their forward motion ensured that Romee couldn’t hear her.
It was a statement of fact, Lasrina retorted. The disease killed without causing undue suffering.
“Wasn’t there another way?”
There was not. And with that, the goddess went silent again.
That evening, as they sat down to dinner, Aliva wasn’t a bit surprised when Romee said a brief prayer to Lasrina. The girl had already forgotten about her new choice of deity.
[ 27 ]
Together Again
It was the first time his sister had set foot in Gabriel’s apartment, and it would also be the last. “This place is so you,” she declared, glancing around. “No decorations. No rugs. If it hadn’t come furnished, you’d probably have slept on the floor.”
“I did have my shield and mother’s sword displayed on the wall,” he said, pointing at where they had been.
Marryn narrowed her eyes. “And I suppose you’re planning to hang them up above Kora’s fireplace,” she scoffed.
“I am not,” he responded, amused by her little tirade. Now fully restored to health, she had returned to work, but still hadn’t moved out. To everyone’s surprise, Marryn seemed perfectly content with her current accommodations.
