By the time Balcombe peered around the corner, there was nothing to see but rubble cluttering the narrow hallway floor. The crisp smell of ozone filtered with dust filled his nostrils, but he detected no trace of the distinctive odor of singed flesh.
With a snarl the raging mage turned back to his two captives in the web. “Your friends have escaped, so far. It would have been better for them if they’d died in the tunnel.”
Balcombe withdrew a scroll from the recesses of his cloak. Breaking its wax seal and unrolling it, he began reading aloud, twisting his lips and tongue to form the unnatural, magical sounds. As he recited, wisps of smoke curled up from the scroll. Tanis could see brown splotches forming, as if some great heat was burning the parchment from the other side. Reaching the end of the spell, Balcombe released the scroll and let it flutter from his hands. Before it had fallen a foot, it burst into flames and was consumed, showering the floor with fine, powdery black ash. The room became very hot and still, and then a great burst of wind blew clouds of dust into Flint’s and Tanis’s faces and snapped Balcombe’s cape. The mage stood straight and undaunted, staring directly ahead.
The hair on the back of Tanis’s neck stood up as a black spot appeared in the room, swirling and growing, forming monstrous shapes and then dissolving, only to reform into something larger and more hideous than before. When it reached full size, it stood eye to eye with Balcombe. It was a giant cat of some sort, a panther or cougar, but it was not real. To Tanis it seemed a thing of solid shadow, shifting and pulsing to some strange, internal rhythm.
Balcombe addressed the mysterious force. “A male kender and a female elf have displeased me. Kill them.” He cast a sly, sideways glance toward his prisoners.
An ominous swishing sound resonated through the room and then faded up the tunnel as the shadow beast leaped after its prey.
* * * * *
Tas flung the door open at the end of the sloping hallway, and he and Selana fell out into the sheltered alcove, blinking at the bright sun.
“Where can we hide?” cried Selana, wiping dust and sweat from her face.
“We can’t,” Tas answered, “not yet anyway. That wizard is bound to be after us. We have to get far away from here before we go to ground. Let’s hurry.”
He tried pulling Selana back to her feet, but the elf maid resisted. “Where?”
“The marketplace. I can lose anybody in a market, especially if it’s busy.” A mighty jerk brought Selana to her feet, and then both were running toward the market.
That’s when they heard the crash behind them. Looking back, they saw that the door they had just exited was torn off its hinges and skidding across the ground. It had been raked by enormous claws that cracked and split the thick wood planks and even sliced through a reinforcing iron band. Then it burst from the shadow, a hulking magical phantom charging toward them in great bounds.
“What is it?”
“Trouble!” cried Tas, pushing the fear-frozen sea elf again. Driven by terror and grit, the kender and the princess raced at breakneck speed across the open ground to the crowded bazaar. When he braved a backward glance, Tas saw the black shape and the rising ribbon of dust that marked the monster’s trail as it gained steadily.
They rounded a corner and ran straight into a farmer’s wagon. It was loaded with spring onions and garlic bunches. Tas dropped to his knees and scrambled underneath, Selana following his lead.
Panting, Selana asked, “What is it? Has the wizard become that thing?”
“No point in that. My guess is that he conjured up some magical monster, like an invisible stalker, only you can see this thing as a shadow. Wizards pull them from another plane to do their bidding. They’re horrid things, but short-lived. We’ve got to keep moving.” Tas scanned the narrow avenues and quickly picked the best possible escape. As soon as Selana was up, they were off again.
Behind them, the onion wagon exploded. The beast had smashed into and slivered it, showering the area with onions and garlic. The screaming and shouting of the merchants was mixed with a terrifying roar from the beast, which paused momentarily in the wagon’s wreckage to scatter the obstructing people.
The fugitives wasted no time. They twisted and turned their way through the market in a dizzying path, right, then left, then left again, until Selana had lost track of how long they’d been running. She could barely hear his directions for the pounding of her heart, when Tas began to weave a trail through the curving and twisting alleys.
When it seemed to Selana that her ribs would puncture her stomach and she would choke on her heart, Tas finally slowed, and then stopped in a narrow alley. “I think we’ve lost the shadow monster,” he panted, resting his hands on his knees, “for now.…”
Chest heaving so hard she couldn’t speak, Selana looked at Tas, then finally managed to gasp, “You don’t think it’s expired?”
“No, we haven’t been running half as long as it feels like. I suspect it’s still around somewhere.”
“What can a shadow do to us?” she asked.
“You’re a spellcaster and you ask that?” He shook his head. “I respect anything conjured from another plane.”
Groaning, Selana was about to sink to the ground when Tas grabbed her arm. “Do you smell that?” He looked at her intently. “Garlic and onions.…”
Holding each other’s gaze in fear, they both looked around. Suddenly a dark, swirling head peered around the corner at them. A clawed spectral hand slashed out, and Selana screamed. Once again they were fleeing, Tas holding onto Selana by her sleeve, the creature pounding on their trail.
Tas negotiated several turns, then looked back to see—the shadow monster, but not Selana! He still held a piece of her sleeve but she was not attached to it.
With the creature close on his tail, Tas dove through the rapidly scattering onlookers. Turning another corner, Tas tumbled over a pile of baskets. He sprawled across a rug spread with boots and slippers and slammed into a post. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs and left him gasping. Trying to shake off the pain, he scrambled to his feet. Peering across the pile of baskets was the shadow monster, black teeth glimmering beneath its black eyes. Behind him Tas was horrified to spot a dead end. The locals scrambled for safety and Tas heard bolts and bars slamming across the few doors and windows adjoining this cul-de-sac.
Heart pounding with adrenaline, Tas turned to face the monster. He made a quick but futile attempt to scrape the wads of magical webbing off the blade of his dagger onto a wooden post. Holding the gobby weapon in front of him, he awaited the attack.
The shadow monster crouched and hissed, snapping an inky tail. Then it leaped, covering the distance to where Tas stood in one bound. Even though he knew his reflexes were no match for the magical beast, Tas threw himself to the side, hoping to escape the brunt of the impact.
One swiping paw sent the kender crashing through a pile of hides. He rolled away and jumped to his feet, expecting to be slashed to ribbons, but no slash came. The shadowy beast throbbed and flickered and then dissolved into dozens of rapidly shrinking wisps of darkness.
Bruised and puffing, Tas threw his arms out and whooped. The wizard’s spell had expired! The jubilant kender banged on doors and shutters with the pommel of his dagger, shouting, “I killed it! Hey! You can come out now!”
Dancing and strutting, he picked his way through the scattered merchandise back toward the main avenue. Slowly people emerged from their buildings.
Where was Selana? Tas wondered suddenly. Panting, pouches tangling on his hips, Tas climbed out of the narrow alley and onto a main street again. Moving at a steady trot, he spotted a baker’s unattended street-vending cart. A long, pale loaf of crusty bread caught his eye. He snatched it up and tucked it under his arm like a ball as he continued running, ever watchful for Selana’s indigo robe.
“A bit odd, leaving a cart of food like that,” he muttered to himself, “but lucky for me. I’ve been a bit short of cash recently. I must remember to find and
pay that baker when I get the chance.”
Tas looked behind him, in case Selana had emerged from an alley in his wake. He saw no one but an old woman sorting out her disheveled produce. He rounded another corner.
Suddenly, desperate fingers seized him by the upper arm. He spun about, and more fingers closed over his mouth, then he was yanked into the shadows of a recessed entryway. Immediately Tasslehoff bit through the fingers and slammed his elbow into his attacker’s stomach as he wrenched his arm away. Spinning about, he spread his legs in a defensive stance, loaf of bread raised and at the ready.
“Selana!”
Groaning and on her knees, the sea elf alternately clutched her aching abdomen and tried to squeeze off the trickle of blood from her lacerated fingers. Mortified, the kender pulled a cotton swatch from his pack and went to work binding her hand.
“Gods, Selana, I’m awfully sorry. I didn’t know it was you,” the kender muttered. “It’s a very bad idea, sneaking up on a guy like that. I might have killed you!” He peered around her in the dark doorway, then helped her to stand upright again. “You’ll be all right, won’t you?”
The sea elf was obviously shaken, one arm still folded across her stomach. She stood up straight with great effort and nodded once. “I decided to run a different direction back there, since it could only follow one of us,” she wheezed, breathing still difficult.
Tasslehoff crossed his arms and thrust his chin into the air. “I could have protected you,” he said, miffed. “It’s gone now anyway.”
The sea elf’s cornflower-blue scarf had fallen to her shoulders, and she shrugged it back over her pale hair wearily. “What do we do now?”
Not one to run willingly from a fight, the usually easygoing kender found himself growing angry at their predicament. He shook the long loaf of bread at Selana. “We left friends back in that keep. We can’t turn our backs on Tanis and Flint. I say we should go right back in and get them.” Tasslehoff stepped into the street, but Selana’s hand snatched the strap of his shoulder pouch and dragged him back. “Let me go!” he hissed, deftly twisting away from her grip.
“Think, Tasslehoff!” Selana’s eyes blazed, and for the first time Tas saw her as she must be in her own land—not confused and foolishly headstrong, but regal and commanding. He listened.
“Everyone in this castle must have seen us being chased by that monster,” she said. “If you manage to make it to the keep without being noticed again, what will you say? That you were prowling around in the basement of the keep, found a zombie, and got chased away by a mage—their mage? All you’ll manage is to get yourself arrested and that won’t do anyone a lick of good, especially Tanis and Flint.”
Tas jammed his hands into his armpits and shrugged his shoulders up around his ears. “We can’t leave Tanis and Flint in there,” he said darkly.
Selana glared at him. “Of course not.” The sea elf frowned, nibbling on a nail as she thought. “Something really odd is going on at the keep, and I think we stumbled upon a small part of it. If only we could get back in and do a bit more exploring.…”
“I wish I still had my magical teleporting ring,” interjected Tasslehoff. “Then we could just pop in anywhere we wanted to. Have I told you about my teleporting ring?”
Of course he had. Tasslehoff eventually told everyone he met about that most mystical of devices. But the mention of it brought something to Selana’s mind. Pursing her lips, she reached into the depths of her voluminous robe, dug around, and pulled out a long, thin vial made of smooth purple glass, a cloudy crystal stopper shaped like a sea fern in its mouth. She held it up in contemplation, then made an immediate decision.
“Well drink this!”
Chapter 12
Birds of a Feather
“What’s that?” quizzed Tasslehoff, instinctively reaching for the small purple vessel Selana held in her hand.
The sea elf whirled away, evading his grasp. “A potion.”
“What does it do?”
“It is a potion of polymorphing,” she replied, still holding it protectively.
Tasslehoff’s face contorted in bewilderment. “Poly what?”
“Polymorphing. It allows the person who drinks it to change his shape at will.”
“You mean you could become fat or thin or short or tall, or change the color of your hair, and things like that?” Tas asked. “Nobody would recognize us then. We could walk right into the castle.”
Selana smiled. “You could do all those things and much more. You could even change yourself into something else entirely—a dog, perhaps, or a pony, or even a fish.”
Tas’s eyes grew wide with wonder as he stared at the slim vial, unbelievable possibilities racing through his mind. “What are we waiting for?” He grabbed at the potion again impulsively, but Selana pushed him away.
“Be careful,” she scolded. “This is all I have.”
Tas stepped back sheepishly, but his eyes never left the potion in Selana’s hand. “It’s just that the sooner we get started, the sooner we get Flint and Tanis out of trouble.”
“And the sooner I can get my bracelet. There’s just one problem,” Selana continued slowly. “This is only a single dose. I’m afraid that only I should use it.”
Tas’s face went flat. “You can’t leave me behind! You’ll need my help. You don’t know anything about castles. That keep is an incredible maze, not to mention all the nooks and crannies in the surrounding buildings. I can help you find your way through it.”
Selana lifted her shoulders feebly. “I’m afraid I can’t help it, Tasslehoff. I have only one potion.”
“But if you don’t take me along, that mage will send goons who will certainly catch me and torture me and make me tell them about you and the potion. Think of the danger you’ll be in!”
The sea elf concealed her amused smile.
“Say, I have an idea,” Tas pressed on. “What would happen if we split the potion?”
Selana considered the question for several moments before replying. She knew that the kender would surely do something rash and get himself captured if left to his own devices. What was more, the only other castle she had ever been in was a keep that had sunk beneath the sea during the Cataclysm and was now fallen in ruin. The everyday buildings of surface people seemed strange to her; how much more daunting would a castle be? Perhaps she did need Tasslehoff’s help.
“If we split the potion,” she said slowly, “it will last only half as long for both of us. I know that if one of us were to drink all of it, the effect would last four to five hours, depending on our weight, and we’re both pretty light.”
Selana looked squarely into the kender’s eyes. “I am going to ask you an important question, Tasslehoff. Do you honestly think the two of us could find our way through the keep and the rest of the castle, locate and free Flint and Tanis, find my bracelet, and get away again in under two hours?”
Tasslehoff puffed out his chest. “I know I could. I’ve been in dozens of castles from the Blood Sea to Darken Wood. I have a knack for finding my way in and out of them. With me along, this will be as easy as spearing fish in a puddle.”
“I wish we could walk up to the castle and take this at the last minute,” she muttered to herself, “but we can’t risk being seen. We must pick a form that travels fast.”
“You mean like a horse?” Tasslehoff suggested.
“I mean something inconspicuous.” Selana nibbled on a fingernail again as she thought. “A bird, perhaps.”
“Great!” cried Tas. “I’ve always wanted to fly. A falcon—say, how about a condor? They’re really tough. Or maybe a giant goatsucker bird.…”
“I don’t even know what that is. Look, Tasslehoff,” Selana said with great patience, “we’re trying to keep from being seen. We have to pick a common bird, so we’ll blend in.”
Just then, a small brown-and-gray bird swooped into their stoop, searching for crumbs. “Like this one right here,” added Selana.
“A spa
rrow? They’re awfully small and unimpressive,” Tas pouted.
“They’re perfect,” said Selana, unstoppering the vial. She touched it to her lips, but before swallowing she looked intently at the kender’s eager face. Selana had never even heard of kender before coming to the land. Tasslehoff, the only kender in her acquaintance, seemed true and sincere enough, but unpredictable. She paused. “This is not a game, Tasslehoff. This could be a dangerous thing we’re about to do. Promise me that you’ll stay close to me and not waste time.”
“Now who’s wasting time?” the kender said archly, tapping his foot with impatience.
Selana rolled her eyes, then tilted the vial again and sipped just a little less than half of its contents. Eyeballing what remained, she took one last, small sip, then handed the potion to Tasslehoff.
Eyes as round as full moons, the kender absently set down the loaf of bread and tossed back the remainder of the acrid potion without hesitation.
“I don’t feel any different,” he said straightaway, running his hands over his slender frame for confirmation. Then his throat began tingling, as if his tongue were falling asleep. The sensation spread quickly, down his throat, pooling in his stomach, then raced through every portion of his body, ending with what felt like a tiny, swirling “pop” in his fingers and toes. Then the tingling was gone, replaced by a feeling of great awareness.
“I feel fantastic! What do we do now?”
“Just think about being a bird,” Selana said. “There’s no better way to explain it in your language. You must relax, and just picture it. If you try too hard, you will fail.”
Tasslehoff watched in amazement as delicate trails of sparkling amber raced around Selana. In a wink the sea elf was gone, replaced by a tiny bird with unusually large eyes, fluttering in her place.
Wanderlust Page 18
