Seer of Shadows

by Cleave Bourbon

  The boy Rennon returned with a dram vial and handed it to him. He looked at Geron with consternation. “I need the other preparation you make for me, sir, and I need it promptly, if you don’t mind, sir.”

  Sanmir looked at him. “All right, where’s the fire? I made some for you this morning. It’s over there on the shelf.” He said. The boy bolted to the shelf, took a small silver tin, and just promptly disappeared into the back storeroom.

  As soon as the woman paid for her salve and left, Sanmir addressed Lady Shey. “Now that we are alone, what am I to call you this visit, my lady?”

  “You do recognize me?” She was surprised.

  “Maybe not at first. You fooled me for a moment or so.”

  “I am going by the name Minda, and this is my son, Alwin.”

  “Oh?” Sanmir was alarmed.

  “He isn’t really my son, Sanmir.”

  Sanmir was even more confused. “Why would you be traveling with a young boy? Is he part of...” he leaned forward, “our quest?”

  “Not precisely, no, he is a young seer we . . .” Rennon entered the room again.

  “Rennon, why don’t you take the rest of the day off. I can handle the last two hours before we close. Go find Devyn or Vesperin and enjoy yourself.”

  Rennon took another look at Geron, but this time he didn’t seem as rattled by him. “Thank you, sir.” He left the shop.

  “Go on with what you were saying, my lady,” Sanmir said.

  “Geron, why don’t you explore the shop for a moment but don’t wander off.”

  “I’m Alwin.”

  “Aye, you’re a clever boy.” She rubbed his head and sent him off.” When he wandered away, Shey addressed Sanmir again, “He’s a seer that I have not seen do much seeing!”

  “Oh, I see.” Sanmir chuckled.

  “I wasn’t trying to be amusing.”

  “Never the less.” He smiled.

  Shey pursed her lips in disparagement, “I will speak of this young boy later. What do you have to report?”

  Sylvalora entered the shop, and Sanmir bowed slightly to her.

  “Don’t bother bowing. Today, I am a simple peasant woman named Aurelie.”

  “Of course you are,” Sanmir said.

  “Come on now, Ger . . . er . . . Alwin, let’s go get settled at the inn and let Mother and the apothecary talk.” Sylvalora said. Geron followed Sylvalora out of the shop. Sylvalora whispered to Shey as she opened the door. “Meet us there when you are done.” She walked out the door, letting it slowly come to a close behind her.

  “A young seer boy?”

  Lady Shey sighed. “We hadn’t intended for him to travel with us this long. It just happened. He has a way of making you feel like he should come along.”

  “Ah, I understand. Well, you asked me for a report.”

  “Aye, go on.”

  “The boy Rennon you just met.”

  “Aye, what of him?”

  “I think he is developing the wild magic. That tin he took brews a tea I made for him to suppress the ability. He isn’t in danger of being detected by Enforcers yet. I will keep an eye on him and make sure he keeps from getting noticed.”

  “They sure do take outlawing magic seriously here in Symboria, don’t they? Do the Enforcers come through here often?”

  “Often enough, but I will keep him safe. The other boy, the descendant of Marella, his name is Devyn, and he seems ordinary enough. If he can be taught to draw essence, it might be a tough task to get him started down that path. They are taught to fear and hate wielding here. In fact, parents use it to frighten the children. They tell them that if the children wander off, the wielders will get them and cast evil spells on them, keeping them from their parents forever.”

  “Oh, that’s lovely.”

  “I said it might be difficult, but not impossible. I have overheard Devyn talking to his friend Vesperin about it. It seems he has a fascination with wielders. It’s a rebellious attitude some of the youth here have.”

  “They spoke of this out in the open?” Shey was shocked.

  “Oh no. I was hidden when I overheard. The boys had no idea I was there. They thought they were in a secluded and secure place. When they sneak off on their own, that’s when I find out the best information.”

  “I see. Is there anything else?”

  “Not much of any importance, at least not yet. There is a half-elven lad called Trendan. He has lived in Brookhaven most of his life. By elvish standards, he’s young. He has been acting like a big brother to Devyn and his friends. Vesperin is a cleric of Loracia, and he keeps the others grounded and out of trouble most of the time. Oh, Gondrial is here. He ran into some trouble at the Tiger’s Head Inn the other night and got himself thrown out. He is staying at the Grinning Goose now.”

  “Thank you, Sanmir. You have done a fine job keeping an eye on things here.”

  “My pleasure.” He bowed.

  “Try not to bow, dear. Remember, I’m merely a peasant.”

  “Hard habit to break, my lady.”

  “I understand. Here, what do you make of this?” She laid the sword onto the counter and unwrapped the cloth. She couldn’t help but gasp when it was revealed. The sword had a faint orange glow it did not have before. “It’s glowing?”

  “Malinfel!” Sanmir said. “Where did you get this?”

  “You won’t believe it. We weren’t sure it was Malinfel until this very moment.”

  “Well, it is, and something has triggered it.” He bent down and whispered a few magic words and the sword sang out. He quickly recanted. “It does make a magic racket. It will have the Enforcers upon us if we aren’t careful.”

  “What has triggered it? It was just an old, rusty arming sword until now.”

  “It’s a mindwielder sword. Rennon has most likely triggered it with his wild magic. What are you even carrying it around for?”

  “Morgoran told me to get it. He said it would aid us on our quest.”

  “Morgoran! You know better than that. He is cursed. You can’t trust anything he says.”

  “I had a Lora Orbius. He was clear-headed.”

  “So what?” He has been cursed far too long to know what clear-headed is.”

  “Sanmir, I was there. He was fine for a time.”

  “I say get that sword out of Brookhaven and find a good hiding place. You shouldn’t have it here of all places!”

  Shey wrapped it back up in the cloth. “Do you have a place for it?”

  “No, take it someplace and throw it down a deep hole. Somewhere you can get to it, but somewhere it can’t cause you ill.”

  She gathered herself up. “Maybe you’re right. I will find a good place for it.”

  “Good!”

  “I best be off to find that fool Gondrial. I’m sure he has a few things to tell me.” She grinned at Sanmir. “Or explain is probably more the case.”

  “Aye, if I think of anything else, I will let you know. I would say get that sword out of Brookhaven as soon as you are able.”

  “Very well. I will check in with you before I leave the village if I don’t see you before then.”

  “Aye, and might I make one more suggestion.” Sanmir held up his index finger.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “You speak entirely too well for a peasant. You’re not fooling anyone. Might I suggest you vary your speech a bit.”

  “You know, you’re right. It’s been so long since I had to use a disguise, I seem to have forgotten how. Thank you, old friend.”

  “Take care. I will be here if you need me.”

  Lady Shey acknowledged Sanmir, and a moment later, she was out the door.

  “Now,” she muttered to herself, “it’s time for Gondrial to meet the business end of my boot! Then, I’ll have him carry this sword off. He likes playing cat and mouse with Enforcers.”

  Chapter 17: Whispers of the Wicked

  Lady Shey decided to check on Sylvalora and Geron before she went traipsing over to th
e Grinning Goose after Gondrial. She wanted to make sure her bags got to her room, and she thought she might grab a bite to eat. She had a feeling she was going to need all of her strength to deal with Gondrial.

  At the door to the Tiger’s Head Inn, Lady Shey noticed Lyrrath slowly riding up to the inn’s stables. Instead of going into the inn, she decided to check on him. He had just handed over the reins of his horse to the stable hand and removed his riding pack when she walked up to him.

  He turned into her as he left his horse. “Oh, I didn’t recognize you.”

  “Shh!” She put her index finger to her lips. “Call me Minda. I am just a regular peasant here.” She spoke in a hushed tone.

  Lyrrath leaned in. “Why the disguise?”

  “The short version is I have interests in this village. The townsfolk aren’t used to seeing lords and ladies here. I would draw too much attention to observe what I need to observe. I wanted to intercept you here before you saw me inside unaware.”

  “I see. You didn’t want me calling out your true name in public.”

  She put the tip of her finger on the tip of her nose and winked.

  “Fear not, I will keep to the secret.”

  “I apologize for not letting you know sooner, but you seemed preoccupied before we left Soldier’s Bluff. Did you get your business concluded successfully?”

  “I was, and aye, I did. I am not sure what came over me. I was so tired and fearful of every shadow. I went to a friend’s house in Cedar Falls. She is a cleric of Loracia.”

  “And she channeled some healing for you?”

  “Aye, and I feel much better now. No more fatigue.”

  “Good. Let’s not linger here too long,” she said. “I need to stow this package, and then I was about to get something to eat at the inn. Why don’t you get checked in, and I will find Sylvalora and Geron. I am certain you must be hungry from the road.”

  “I am. What’s the package?”

  “Nothing special,” she decided to downplay the sword’s significance for Lyrrath’s own good. “Just an old sword I need to get to Gondrial.”

  They entered the common room of the inn together. Lady Shey was immediately awestruck by the intricate mural of a giant tiger’s head painted on the wall. She had seen it before, but it always impressed her each time she laid eyes upon it. Other than the mural, the common room looked about like any other she had seen, tables and chairs arranged in rows over a hardwood floor and a wood-trimmed bar along the back of the room for the maidens waiting on tables. A portion of the back bar doubled as a receiving desk for patrons in need of lodging.

  Lyrrath went to the back desk to get a room, and Shey looked for a place to sit. As she searched around the room, she was surprised to spot Sylvalora and Geron. She waited for Lyrrath to return, and then she suggested they join the other two.

  Just moments after they were seated and their orders for food were taken, Gondrial strolled in and directly located their table. Lady Shey could tell that at first Gondrial didn’t recognize her. He had only seen Sylvalora. It wasn’t until he sat down and introduced himself to Shey that recognition finally dawned on him.

  “I am called Minda,” Lady Shey said before he could get her name out. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Charmed,” Gondrial said, kissing her hand.

  Shey leaned in and whispered to him. “I thought you got kicked out of here?”

  “Kicked out, aye, but not banned. I was asked to leave actually. I am free to dine here,” he whispered back.

  “You know Lyrrath, do you not?” Sylvalora asked Gondrial.

  “We have met.” He extended his hand. “How are you, Lyrrath?”

  “I’m well.”

  Sylvalora then indicated Geron. “This is Alwin, Minda’s son.”

  Gondrial extended his hand to the boy, and they shook hands. Gondrial’s expression soured. He yanked back his hand as if it was just in a fire. “I don’t know where you all found this boy, but the kid’s evil.” He put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “What are you doing?” Lady Shey whispered so loud she could have just said it in a normal tone.

  “Look at him! That’s not a boy; it’s some kind of . . . of freak! He’s one of them!”

  “Gondrial!” Sylvalora said.

  Lady Shey moved to Geron’s defense as Gondrial stood to unsheathe his sword. For a moment, Geron seemed to flicker between a hideous black creature and the boy she knew. She shrieked, taken aback. The boy jolted up from his seat and hissed at Gondrial. In a flash, he weaved through the common room tables and was out the front door. Lyrrath was the first to chase after him.

  Lady Shey grabbed ahold of Gondrial’s arm. “How did you know?”

  “A friend I met along the way cast some kind of spell on me. Apparently, it’s still with me. Also, I imagine his illusion is weakening. How long has he been with you? Drasmyd Duil can only keep up an illusion for so long before they have to remake it.”

  “How can he be a Drasmyd Duil? There was no horrid stench or any of the other signs,” Shey asked horrified.

  “I don’t know. I am about to find out. Lyrrath will catch him.”

  Shey had the sword leaning against her leg. “Here before you go. Take this sword.”

  “Why?”

  “She put her mouth close to his ear, “It’s Malinfel. Sanmir says to take it somewhere and hide it.”

  “Hmm,” said as he took the sword grinning from ear to ear. “I have never had a mag- ”

  “Shh, not another word.”

  He glanced around the room just noticing it had gone silent. The handful of patrons were all aghast at what had just happened. One woman suddenly fainted and fell from her chair. “You had better take care of these people,” Gondrial whispered to her. He took the sword and left the common room. Lady Shey and Sylvalora stood to get the attention of the startled patrons.

  GERON RAN BEHIND THE inn and headed for the cover of a few trees with dense bushes scattered around the thick trunks. He went ahead and let the illusion of the boy shift to his true form. He smacked his maw; it was good not to have to twist it into the flattened human form. His black scales glistened in the sunlight, so he used his ability to blend into the color of the bushes. He cursed himself for not renewing his changed form sooner. The one called Gondrial had only seen him because of carelessness; otherwise, the illusion was flawless, and he would never have been detected. He had come so far with the illusion.

  He watched the inn intently from his position in the bushes. It appeared that only the one called Lyrrath pursued him. That would be a mistake. He conjured up bile from his stomach and held it in his mouth until Lyrrath was close enough, and then he leaped from the bushes and spat the acidic bile into Lyrrath’s eyes and face. The man started to scream, but it quickly died off into a sickening gurgle as the man’s face melted in the intense acid. Geron used his claws to stab the man in the chest repeatedly until he had soundly defeated him. He dragged the dead Lyrrath into the bushes. He used more of the black bile and kept coughing it up until he could cover the entire body with it. He watched with satisfaction as the body dissolved into the ground.

  The Drasmyd Duil glanced up to see that Gondrial had exited the inn and was now searching nearby. He concentrated on his memory of Lyrrath and touched a fragment of bone that was still dissolving. The creature’s face and body twisted and contorted into the perfect form of the dead man. He spit once more on the corpse to dissolve the rest of the clothing and stood up.

  “Hey, over here. I caught up with it.” His voice mimicked Lyrrath’s exactly.

  Gondrial hurried to him.

  “There.” He pointed to the putrid body dissolving into the ground. “I cast essence on him and stopped him, but when I caught up to him, he started doing that.”

  Gondrial went down to one knee. “I have never seen anything like this before. It seems he killed himself off. This is new. If he is a Drasmyd Duil, he is not one I have ever encountered before.” He touched the tip of
his finger to the ground, and it sizzled. He reached in his pocket and found a handkerchief. He concentrated on the fabric, and it glowed briefly with power. He used it to scoop up some of the liquid, dirt and all.

  “What are you going to do with that?” Lyrrath asked.

  “Take it to Sanmir. The Darovan elves have encountered a few creatures foreign to us here. He may have some idea of what it is we’re dealing with.” He took the sample and started walking toward the inn.

  Shey and Sylvalora met him before he got too far.

  “The patrons have no idea anything unusual happened,” Shey told him. “It was horrible. We had that thing with us since Valwall and had no idea!”

  Gondrial put his arm around Shey and handed the handkerchief to Sylvalora. “Here, take this to Sanmir if you don’t mind. It’s what remains of the creature. It apparently dissolved itself when Lyrrath caught up to it. It must be a new tactic.”

  Sylvalora carefully accepted the handkerchief.

  Gondrial kept his arm around Shey’s shoulder. “Come on; we will go to Sanmir’s shop too.”

  Shey nodded.

  “I am going to the inn to wash off. I think I got some of that . . . whatever it was on me. I will meet you at Sanmir’s shop,” Lyrrath said.

  “All right, Lyrrath,” Gondrial said as the three of them headed toward Sanmir’s shop.

  LYRRATH KNEW HE HAD to complete his mission now, this moment, in case he was caught again. What if Sanmir knew how to detect him? He hurried to the inn and went inside. He made his way back to the bar at the back of the room and waited until he heard the name he was after. The big, balding man in the white apron behind the counter finally called it out. The boy named Devyn appeared. The bald man sent him to the storeroom for a keg of ale. Lyrrath waited for his moment and then followed the boy. When he deemed it appropriate, he took the stone he had retrieved in the dungeons beneath the White Tower from his pocket and cast it at the boy, striking him in the back. A purplish flame covered Devyn, and he fell to the floor. Lyrrath slinked away but not before he watched Devyn get back up and go back to the common room. The boy was unaware. Lyrrath smiled.