“No. I will atone even if I have to destroy you and cripple our body,” the shuddering copy says as she watches the timid one gouge out her own eyes. Pulling her fist back, her hair turns black and a glistening blade grows from between her knuckles. “A broken champion is better than a traitorous one. Isaiah will find you and make things right. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do this.”
Before the double can lobotomize the original, a green blur swings down and slices the woman in half. The two pieces flop to the ground and explode into a puff of smoke that resembles a pair of wrestling kittens. Emerald spears burst from the branches, which are left bare and shaking in the wake of the attacks. All of the copies are pierced and turned into colorful clouds that take on a variety of forms. Some of them are simple shapes while others are intricate figures that act out a scene. When only the original Dariana is left, a strong wind that smells of rose petals and fresh ham drives the smoke into the clear ring that is hanging by a solitary string of spider silk.
“Are we having some doubts, little godling?” Yola asks as she clambers down the webbing in the shape of a hairy spider. Dropping to the dirt, the former goddess resumes her true form and gives Dariana a tight hug. “Guess who gets a traveling buddy! It’s you, but I can understand why you didn’t get the answer. Probably because I talk too quickly. That and you just had your psyche split into many, many, many pieces. We’re going to have so much fun walking to wherever we’re going. Why are you rubbing your temples?”
*****
The caravan moves along a road running several miles north of Rodillen, the halflings wanting to avoid being swindled by thieves. Panpipes, lutes, and drums can be heard coming from inside the colorful wagons, which bounce along the rocky path. The long-haired oxen move at a slow pace due to the people who are forced to walk instead of ride. Many of them are members of the caravan, but there are those who are nothing more than wanderers hoping to trade for supplies before continuing their aimless roaming. Others are fellow travelers that have joined the crowds to stave off the loneliness of the road and possibly stumble onto a trinket that they never knew their life was previously lacking. Since the halflings are always in the mood to do business, there is a constant flow of people in and out of the wagons. The merchants routinely shout their specialties out the open windows or toss a sample into the mass of people when they wish to do more than count their inventory.
Dariana is blind to most of what is going on because her attention is focused more on hiding the presence and actions of her companion. With Yola refusing to blend into the crowd, the telepath has had to constantly cloak the woman in various images that change whenever they gain too much attention. The illusions are difficult to maintain since the immortal routinely rushes ahead to investigate every item that catches her interest. These have ranged from crystal wind chimes to the spinning wheel of a rainbow-colored wagon, both events nearly destroying their cover. Dariana is thankful that Yola has stopped pulling pranks, especially pinching the oxen on their rumps to get them to move faster. Now she only worries about the moments where the former goddess randomly mistakes a halfling for a baby and attempts to change a diaper that appears out of thin air.
Pulling her wide hood over her head, Dariana wipes the blood from her nose and massages her temples. The strain of keeping up the illusion for so many people makes her wonder if Yola is trying to stop her from getting to the portal. Not wanting to succumb to the doubt that is slithering through her mind, the telepath pulls a ring from her pouch. Having traded a few of her shirts for the piece of jewelry, Dariana finds herself fascinated by the orange and yellow jade. A flickering flame can be seen within the flat diamond, which is an effect she knows the merchant has never been able to awaken. The magic in the ring is barely noticeable if one could even call the minor trick a true enchantment. With a tiny injection of aura, the flames bloom inside the expensive diamond and gives off a barely perceived circle of light.
“Are you sure I can’t carry you to the portal?” Yola asks, interrupting her companion’s thoughts. The immortal is in the form of a busty orc wearing the brown and white dress that one normally sees on lazy depictions of barmaids. “Arthuru won’t be disappointed if you accept some help. He wants us to work as a team since all of us worked together to get this far. Well, the champions did any way. Our side kind of indulged in a lot of infighting and sabotage. Things progressed a lot quicker once your brother died, but that might have been too late for us. Are you going to eat the rest of your orange?”
“Knock yourself out, Yola,” Dariana replies, handing the peel to the eager immortal. She smirks at the looks of disgust they receive, the halflings finding it bizarre that a beautiful orc woman would eat garbage. “Thank you for the offer, but I want to prove I can do this on my own. My father has always questioned my loyalty and abilities. He doesn’t say it, but I know he thinks it. Reaching the portal and handing him the Compass Key alone will prove that I’m serious about my actions.”
“I’ll never understand the Kernaghan pride,” the former goddess admits before she is mesmerized by a nearby pinwheel. Her head spins to mimic the whirring object until it stops moving, the bizarre act barely masked by Dariana. “Where was I? Something about lions? Never mind. I feel like you don’t want me around. We aren’t talking and you keep bleeding your nose at me. That’s so rude and, quite frankly, disgusting. The least you could do is leak something more interesting like . . . what else is inside a body?”
“My condition is because I’m forced to hide your actions.”
“But I’m too adorable to suffer such a fate.”
“These people would panic if they witnessed a being like you walking around.”
“I do have that effect on people. Maybe I should start wearing those itchy things.”
“For some reason, I can’t imagine you in clothes.”
“That’s gross. We’re practically family, Dariana.”
“Just do something to take the pressure off me.”
With a childish pout, Yola clicks her heels several times and bows her head low enough to lick her knee. She straightens her dress and taps at her small tusks, which she pushes on until they are less obvious. There are green streaks in her amber hair, but the halflings and other travelers merely give compliments until returning to their business. Yola shivers at the thought of appearing normal and is about to transform a woman’s hat into a grizzly bear when a mental slap hits her in the brain. Sighing and dropping her arms, she trudges next to Dariana and kicks at any rock that is unfortunate enough to be in her path. The crumbling projectiles sail into the forest and bounce off the trunks with the sound of whistles instead of thuds.
“Thank you for somewhat behaving,” Dariana says, offering her companion a large strawberry. It is gone in the blink of an eye, the only remains a speck of juice on the telepath’s thumb. “This caravan will take me to Gaia and I’ll get a ride there. I will agree that the slow traveling is frustrating. The last thing I want is for the champions to awaken before I reach my destination and contact my father. Luke knows what I did, which means they’ll be after me. No telling where they will look and I don’t want to hunt them down again.”
“But the chasing and unexpected events are part of the fun,” Yola claims with a grin that quivers at the corners. Masking her face, the immortal has the expression become wide and toothy for a satisfying second. “Everyone is so serious about destiny, prophecies, fate, or whatever it is. Free will is all around you, but you constantly bow to Gabriel. The man is nothing more than a puppet master who holds only half of your strings. Once this path is done, you’ll have to make your own fun. So draw the excitement and adventure out until you’ve gone in every possible direction.”
A disturbance at the front of the caravan stops their conversation, the sounds of screams making Dariana curse under her breath. Pushing through the crowd, the telepath wishes her journey would stop having delays. Frustrated by the thick mob, she sends a message for everyone to move to the other
side of the wagons. Angry yelling erupts from around the first wagon, the bellowing getting cut off by the crack of a whip. The sight of a narrow wind spire reveals the presence of a magical weapon, but Dariana and Yola can tell that the effect would be more of an annoyance than a danger. Jogging in the direction of the voices, the pair slip to the crowded side of the wagons before they are noticed. Blending in with the merchants and travelers, the women weave their way to get a better look at what has stopped their progress. At some point, Yola takes the form of a green parrot and remains perched on Dariana’s shoulder, which aches from supporting the true weight of the former goddess.
Blocking the road and shouting at the terrified halflings, a group of bandits are doing their best to rob the front wagon. Most of them are wearing leather armor that has been crudely repaired to the point of looking as protective as a silk shirt. Those with swords appear awkward and uncomfortable with the weapons, their grips very loose and fluid. Dariana assumes they are used to wielding smaller, lighter blades, especially when she notices a few further away who are juggling daggers. Making a quick scan of their minds, she learns that those in front are nothing more than fodder while the elite thieves stay in the back to attack from a safe distance. Their fluffy-tailed leader stands out as the only bandit in chainmail and without a sword. Instead, the boisterous calico carries a gold and emerald whip that creates tiny gusts of wind with every lazy swing.
“This is a simple transaction!” the bandit leader shouts, holding out a large sack that has yet to be fed with loot. He cracks his weapon in the air to shake the leafless branches free of their snowy coatings. “We’ll even work off the honor system here. This wagon will give us everything in the lockbox. All others will give us what they think we’ll believe is all of their money. Keep in mind that if I sense you’re lying then my men will set your wares on fire. So step forward and play nice or we’ll make an example of someone. Don’t be shy, people! We’re serious! Why is nobody doing what we say?”
“All a bunch of cowards, but I think I can use them,” Dariana mutters, waving the parrot off her shoulder. She finishes pushing to the front of the crowd and casually bats the welcoming whip strike away. “Excuse me, but I’m in a hurry to reach Gaia. This caravan is moving slow to begin with, so this extra delay is rather frustrating. Please cut your losses now and let us pass. I’m sure there will be more prey heading this way in a day or two.”
“We sure have a cocky, leggy thing here,” the bandit leader hisses while he runs a comb through his ebony tail. The calico’s ears rise and he bares his teeth when the telepath takes a step forward. “This is not a negotiation. It is a simple transaction where you give us money and we let you be on your way. Hand over that pouch on your hip and maybe the others will follow your example.”
“I really don’t want to repeat my request,” she states, gazing at the sky to watch the sun creep above the trees. Even though she is only losing minutes, Dariana worries that they will build and cost her dearly. “Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way. Your group isn’t worried about stopping every hour for trades or letting your rides catch their breath like these people with their oxen. The horses hidden behind that far bend are well-rested and you have an extra. So you are going to escort me to Gaia.”
The bandits laugh and one throws a dagger at Dariana’s feet, the spinning weapon harmlessly kicked back into his hand. Only Yola can be heard giggling over the dumbstruck expressions on the thieves’ faces as they stare at the dented hilt. Those with swords try to back away, but the veterans make a wall to force them into the fight. Even when they have fanned out, the bandits wait for their leader to give an order. Opening his mouth to give the command, the calico’s voice comes out as a strange warble before a sparrow leaves his throat. With strange noises and small animals erupting from his mouth, all the bandit leader can do is wave erratically and drive his men to attack the woman.
The nervous thieves do not get very far before Dariana leaps over them and charges the veterans. Surprised by the unexpected threat, the bandits scramble to get in position and defend themselves. Within a minute, they are laid out on the road and the victorious telepath is wiping the powdery remains of a few teeth from her knuckles. The novices drop their weapons and are about to run into the forest when a twister slams them against the wagon. Face red and tail puffed out in frustration, the bandit leader is about to chastise his men when a finger taps him on the shoulder. Turning to face Dariana, the calico extends his claws and rears back for a slap to her cheek. Instead, he abruptly punches himself in the jaw with his other hand and collapses into the dirt. Noticing that the bandit narrowly missed a mud puddle, the telepath casually kicks him into the muck.
“Now about that escort,” Dariana says, taking control of the bandits. The men and women stand at attention, those that are still unconscious letting their arms dangle uselessly. “Take me to the horses and let me choose the best. We’ll be riding hard and stopping only when the animals are tired or it is too dark to continue. This is where we part ways, Yola, because I can’t handle you and them.”
“I prefer to stay with these fine, entertaining people anyway,” the green-haired woman claims from where she is hanging from a tree. Dropping to the ground, she lands with a thud and shatters into pieces that reform several seconds later. “Far be it for me to get in the way of a daughter’s quest to prove herself. Besides, your father didn’t really send me. I was bored and Nyder told me that I was one step away from making his brain explode. He needs that to finish his work. Take care and don’t forget to wash between your arms.”
Dariana waves to the former goddess as she urges her new traveling companions to march in the direction of the horses. Once Yola is sure that the telepath is far away, she lets out a long held breath and drops the illusion that she has been maintaining for the past two hours. The wagons creak and collapse, half of them engulfed in emerald flames that threaten the surrounding forest. Most of the halflings disappear completely while others are replaced by charred bodies or remains that show evidence of being partially eaten. Releasing groans of agony, the oxen shimmer and lose their living façade to reveal undead beasts that are still unsure of their existence. The only object that remains intact is a colorful pinwheel that is floating high above the carnage. Yola taps her foot and clears her throat, which causes Walter to materialize beneath the spinning decoration. The boy lands in his mother’s arms and laughs maniacally, smears of blood covering his face and hands.
“What am I going to do with you?” Yola asks in a loving voice. She wipes the mess off her son and plants a kiss on the head that puts him to sleep. “I’ve told you not to eat or kill too much before bedtime. Now you’re going to have nightmares. At least I’ll make sure you do because that’s what a loving mother would do. Sweet dreams, my prince.”
*****
The guards of Gaia rush out of the southeastern gate when they see the small group of travelers approaching. Behind the terrified bandits is a swarm of goblins, the red-skinned creatures screaming obscenities in their native tongue. Spears and rocks are thrown at the retreating thieves, one of the projectiles hitting a man in the small of his back. When they realize he is not the one who stole their sacrifice to Tanki the Goblin God, a shaman slaps a bandage on the shallow wound and the mob continues their pursuit. Not far behind the shrieking mob is a group of trolls that flail and roar while chasing after their prey. Hungry and driven mad by an incessant buzzing in their ears, the predators have no qualms about devouring the fallen thief before he can find a place to hide. The dead-eyed beasts repeatedly swipe at the back of the goblin swarm and chomp on whatever gets caught in their long claws.
The bizarre scene puts the Gaian warriors on edge, all of them expecting another monster to appear out of the forest. Sworn to defend the city, the guards hold their ground while calling for help from any caster who knows fire magic. Their shouts become more insistent when a flock of perytons rise from the forest and swoop after the trolls. With ebony feathers and
sharpened hooves, the winged stags knock several of the bigger predators down to get at the goblins. The largest of the flying beasts comes in from the side to catch the bandit leader in its antlers, the calico screaming as he is carried away. Severely outnumbered and worried that something worse is about to arrive, the guards retreat into the city and hurry to take positions on the wall. They cheer at the sight of the griffin riders, which crash into the perytons and drops explosive bags of oil on the trolls.
Feeling a little guilty for manipulating the goblins, Dariana slips into Gaia through the central gate along with the farmers who are seeking safety behind the walls. The telepath keeps her hood over her face and violently coughs as if she is suffering from a disease. This helps to keep most of the citizens away, especially when she makes them believe her skin is covered in dark purple blisters. Her plan swiftly crumbles due to a nearby priestess of Neberith, the smiling woman casting a disease banishing spell on what she thinks is an ailing traveler. Not wanting to draw suspicion, Dariana goes along with the unexpected gesture and makes herself appear as an elderly dwarf. She stares at her body as if for the first time and touches her face to check for the blisters that were never there in the first place. Bowing her head to the holy woman, the telepath hands her a gold coin and returns to the crowd.
“If it isn’t pesky thieves then it’s nosey priestesses,” Dariana mutters while she steps into an alley. Listening to the battle, she can hear the guards shouting for help against the perytons and trolls. “Seems they aren’t bothering with the goblins, which is good. Though it means I have less time to catch my ride. Hope I brought enough friends to keep this going for another thirty minutes.”
Dariana’s heart sinks when she sees a pair of fireballs sail from the roof of Rainbow Tower and arch over the wall. The dying roars of several trolls drive the telepath to sprint into the street and race toward the docks. Maintaining her illusionary form, she prays that nobody is able to see through her half-hearted defense. She can already feel her mind and body losing energy, the constant activity and minimal sleep taking a toll. All it would take is a suspicious glance from even a mildly powerful caster or psychic to see she is not really a dwarf. Being a famous champion and having unique hair means the moment one person sees her, the rest of the city will become aware of her arrival.
The Spirit Well Page 25
