Ritual of the Lost Lamb

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “My guest cannot sense either of us,” the Baron interrupts, hoping to end the god’s visit as soon as possible. His astral form flickers as he focuses more on his body and runs a rasp across Luke’s forehead, the wound appearing on the psychic version. “The only things that he is aware of are the portals. You remember how I used to execute loved ones in front of prisoners? This is the same thing, but on a grander scale. Luke will see all of them suffering at once and know that there is nothing he could have done even if he was there. No amount of courage and heroic desire can stand up to seeing your entire world crumble simply because you happened to be a part of it.”

  “Ingenious and not something I care to know about,” the Destiny God states before floating a scroll to his ancient enemy. The parchment darts back to its creator when from the Baron tries to grab it. “This is only between us, Arthuru. Remember that I never put anything in place to stop you from taking a champion before the final battle. Because of that, I hope that you sign this contract. In the case of your victory, all of the gods and goddesses will be left unharmed. You will never step foot on Ambervale or set your sights on our castles in the other worlds. Do you agree to this?”

  The Baron rolls his wrist to create a goblet of wine and trades it for the scroll, his face a mask of calm. “I am sickened that you have such little faith in your agents. The Gabriel I trained would never be so weak and disloyal even to those stationed below him. Like me, your influence over the mortal world can only be maintained and increased through those who are allowed to act on your behalf. Though, I sense your hand is being forced by more cowardly hearts, so I will not lose too much respect for you. Since we are being honest with each other, I always intended for your kind to be imprisoned on Ambervale. My hatred and ambition do not drive me to discover what Windemere would be like without the gods and goddesses.”

  “Such a benevolent conqueror.”

  “Why give people more reasons to rebel?”

  “Said by a man who is torturing one of his enemies.”

  “I hold no tenderness for those who seek to destroy me.”

  “Kindness to an enemy can make them a friend.”

  “Said by the man who condemned me to the shadows.”

  The Baron smiles at how his former subordinate scowls and sips at the wine, which has been magically preserved to last for centuries. With a cautious eye on the drooling prisoner, he unfurls the contract and carefully reads every line to make sure it is not a trick. His attention falls on a name that stands out due to it not being one of a deity and written so small that he would have missed it if he had simply glossed over the document. Rolling up the parchment, the Baron conjures a throne of marble that creates the effect of him being a king looking down upon a visiting noble. Drawing a comb out of his pocket, he takes his time fixing his small beard before returning his attention to his guest. He tosses the contract at Luke’s feet, which forces Gabriel to bend down and pick it up, the motion reminding both men of bowing.

  “I cannot sign that,” the Baron bluntly declares, steepling his fingers in front of his face. He disappears for a second and returns with a feathered pen that is dripping with a type of ink that hisses against the floor. “You tried to slip one of the prisoner’s loved ones into the deal. My goal is to make this young man suffer, which means every person he holds dear is an integral part of my plan. So, remove that name and I will grant the citizens of Ambervale protection from my wrath.”

  “All I wanted was to give him something to fight for,” Gabriel replies as he runs his finger along the contract. He stops at the name in question and taps at the parchment with enough force to leave a dent. “You are determined to tear Luke Callindor apart, but you still want him to be involved in your great return. To make him a functional opponent, you need him to have a life to go back to. All I ask is that you give him this person. Losing the rest will cause more than enough pain to accomplish your goals.”

  “That is a violation of your cherished Law,” the grinning warlord points out. The sight of anguish on his enemy’s face brings so much joy to his heart that the immortal is on the verge shedding a tear. “It is such a beautiful sight when you are denied what you want by your own foolish code. A nasty habit of yours, old friend. Now, this meeting is at an end. Remove that name and you will get my promise of protection. Keep it there and you will live in fear of my vengeance until the end of time.”

  The Destiny God flicks the name off the parchment and floats the contract until it is in front of Luke’s face. Satisfied with the change, the Baron leaves his throne and goes to sign at the bottom in acidic demon blood. He lets the feather burst into flames and disappear into the darkness, which swallows his throne and the document. With a burst of sound and light, Gabriel is gone and the warlord is left with his prisoner, who is slowly moving his mouth. Green sparks dance around the forest tracker’s body and the wounds disappear, which means Yola has arrived early to heal the champion. Not having anything else to do, the Baron turns to watch the portals and discover what his other enemies are doing.

  “Only a matter of time before your friends realize they are hunted,” he whispers while reaching over to lift Luke’s chin. He pulls a vine out of the darkness to secure the half-elf’s head and taps at the frozen eyelids. “Then all of our games shall begin and you will watch every second of their agony. This is what you get for refusing your true power and putting my return at risk, young hero.”

  *****

  Wearing an emerald dress that she swears is getting tighter by the minute, Kira Grasdon continues to graciously greet the visiting nobles and merchants. Unlike her business partners, the bronze-skinned heiress refuses to sit at the main table and wait for people to come to her. Yet, her constant activity is more to stave off the effects of boredom than to be a proper hostess since the Elven band refuses to play anything energetic. Faking a smile, she nods to the stuffy noblewoman who has paid the musicians a small fortune to keep the atmosphere calm and somber. Running a manicured hand through her ebony hair, Kira scans the room to make sure nothing is out of place. The buffet is being restocked and a halfling wearing adhesion boots is switching out the chandelier candles in preparation for the party going into the night. There are very few people on the dance floor, the younger guests uninterested in waltzing and their older peers focusing more on business than pleasure. The heiress’s ears pick up urgent whispers and she catches an old couple staring at something behind her. It takes Kira a second to see that one of the waitresses has been cornered by an amorous nobleman, so she signals her secret weapon with a trio of demure coughs. When she has her unassuming agent’s attention, she rubs her neck in a way that points out the problem.

  Taking some wine from a passing tray, she watches as Zephyr nods his head and leaves his seat next to the band. Playing up his blindness, the dark-skinned boy pretends to wander in search of food while whistling a gentle tune. Having magic in his voice and the blood of a channeler in his veins, the nervous youth is able to find his way around the many obstacles with a simple spell. Zephyr stops at the buffet and scratches his head while groping around the edges of the platters, making those around him realize that he is blind. As the kindlier nobles help the child, he thanks them in a melodic voice that masks a spell aimed at the distant lothario. Within seconds, the man begins scratching at his groin and sweating enough that his cologne is unable to hide the stench. Embarrassed and confused, the noble leaves the waitress alone and finds that his symptoms disappear once he is a few steps away. As soon as he attempts to follow the retreating woman, he is back under Zephyr’s curse and becomes so terrified that he leaves the party in search of a priest.

  Kira hides her chuckling by politely covering her mouth and pretending that she is choking on a little wine. Spotting Daniel Skyblade, she is tempted to suggest a sparring match after the party, but they have already agreed that neither of them should be seen interacting in a private manner or being too friendly in public. Many who work with the Grasdon Merchant House still beli
eve she is unfit to lead and would paint her actions as an attempt to buy or seduce a foreign politician. After having to defend the time she battled possessed toys in the Gaian arena and argue about why she made two unprofitable trips to Anpress, Kira has become tired of fighting with her words. She is unsure if it is her warrior training or she has caught Luke’s love of adventuring, but the desire to take physical action against her problems is becoming stronger with every frustrating confrontation.

  “Introducing Lady Sari of Pallice!” a butler announces to the crowd.

  Everyone looks to the entrance where the gypsy is standing in a beautiful dress of blue and yellow. Her hair is shimmering and decorated with icy teardrops that catch the light and cast it back as rainbow patches on the walls. A ruby necklace dangles into her accentuated cleavage while coral rings adorn her fingers, the jewelry like nothing the nobles have ever seen. Sari takes a glass of wine and nods to Zephyr as she passes the band, which has stopped playing to take in the sight of such a beautiful woman. Delicate shoes of velvet and lace are on her feet, allowing her to move without a sound beyond the faint jingle of an ankle bell. Everyone is fascinated by the elegantly dressed gypsy, except for Kira who looks through the champion’s illusions the instant she sees her at the door.

  “The others are waiting outside. We need your help,” Sari says while approaching the calm heiress. Snapping her fingers at the band, she gets them to play a song that brings many of the nobles to the dance floor. “Your friends over there probably want to move close to us and eavesdrop. Look, I’m not going to tiptoe around the topic, so I only ask that you don’t make a scene. Judging from that corset, I doubt you’re armed. Then again, you’ve hidden your weapon under skirts before and you could always have a knife. How can you breathe or eat in that thing?”

  “Stop rambling and spit it out, Sari,” Kira hisses, noticing that her business partners are getting out of their seats. The older nobles quickly gather in a circle, many of them keeping a cautious eye on the young woman. “I’m already in trouble with my father’s old partners. They believe that they should run the family business with me as a pretty figurehead. Doesn’t matter how many deals I’ve made recently since I spent too long acting like an empty-skulled ditz. My unladylike behavior at the academy and hanging around the champions doesn’t help my case with them. Now you have me nervously rambling. Just tell me what happened to Luke and how I can save him.”

  “How did you know?”

  “You’re in here asking for help and he’s nowhere to be seen.”

  Sari forces a smile before suddenly grabbing Kira by the wrist and yanking her onto the crowded dance floor. She playfully wiggles her fingers at the nobles who have moved to the edge of the crowd to watch the uninvited gypsy. Guards are gathering in every doorway, but they repeatedly wander away from their posts to bring food and drink to Zephyr. Only a few guests and the band wonder why the boy has such a collection of cups and plates, which remain untouched. The blind bard takes out his battered flute to join in the music and deliver a spell that removes the dancers’ inhibitions, the chaotic movements and loud cheers helping to mask Sari and Kira’s conversation.

  “First, I want to tell you that Nyx has a plan that will save Luke,” the gypsy says, having to put her lips near her companion’s ear. She notices a few of the drunker nobles grinning in their direction, the men’s lecherous thoughts etched on their red-nosed faces. “We purified all of the temples, but the Baron killed Isaiah and took Luke as a prisoner. We don’t know if he’s on Shayd or somewhere else, so Nyx has started an ancient ritual that will summon him to us. That way we can save him without walking into a trap. All we need to do is collect enough of Luke’s residual aura from places and things that are important to him. Needless to say, you were on the top of our list. The Baron’s too if he knows what we’re doing, which is why we came here as quickly as we could.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Kira replies, struggling to retain her composure. Years of pretending to be what people want her to be helps her maintain the mask of a noble and hide the urge to cry. “Aside from me, anything that would have Luke’s aura is back at the manor. Do you know if he’s okay?”

  “I won’t hide the truth from you. Dariana picked up on him screaming in pain, so we believe he’s being tortured,” Sari replies, her voice faltering. Annoyed by the grins aimed at them, she creates ice on the bottom of the drunkards’ feet and watches them crash to the floor. “You’re taking this a lot better than I expected. No tears or anger. Though that red line going down your back feels warmer than it did a second ago.”

  Kira leads Sari toward the edge of the dance floor, claiming a small dish of shrimp to eat while they head for the door. “Crying won’t bring Luke back. One thing I learned from all of you is that I have to be strong, especially when someone I love is in trouble. Luke is the only family I have left, which means I’m going to help with your ritual. Not only here, but until it’s completed and he’s safe. You mentioned a list, so I assume we need to travel. I can help with that depending on where you have to go. The Little Sister is docked for repairs, but I can buy a smaller, faster vessel just for us. Money isn’t an object here. Stop staring at me like I turned into a troll and began spouting poetry.”

  “Sorry. I’m just surprised how you’re diving right in.”

  “The way I see it, I have a choice of jumping in feet first or getting shoved into this mess like I always do. I’d rather get involved on my own terms this time.”

  “Seems we have people following us.”

  “Just a bunch of relics that I need to put in their place.”

  Putting on her best smile, Kira whirls around to face her business partners, who are flanked by swordsmen. The music stops and everyone watches the confrontation, only Lord Skyblade and his single bodyguard daring to move closer. A gentle heat wafts off the heiress’s back and the red streak can be seen pulsing in her hair. Four waiters hurry to move the buffet to a safe corner of the room, which causes a faint tremor of laughter to ripple through the crowd. Kira and the scowling merchants ignore the amusing sight, the tension between them threatening to explode into a scene that is unbecoming of all involved. Unsure of what to do, Sari dispels her illusionary dress to reveal her true appearance and moves to where she has an easier shot at one of the swordsmen. Many sneer in disgust at the gypsy’s real clothes, which are marked with dirt from her long journey.

  “Lady Grasdon, we feel that you should have the guards escort this young woman out of the building. Then you must return to your guests,” states a slender man with thinning hair. He dabs at his long nose with a napkin that is delicately tucked into his silk shirt’s sleeve. “As you know, all of us have misgivings about your recent actions, especially when these so-called champions visit. I can tell you that those who have deals with the Grasdon Merchant House are worried that you will put your father’s empire at risk and cost them money. As your advisers, we are doing our best to keep your business viable, but we need you to act the part. You are nothing like your late brothers, so we politely request that you stop running into battles and getting involved in affairs that are beneath your station. These adventurers are only using you for free supplies and fame.”

  “Poor Lord Nedris, you started so well and then you crossed a line,” Kira replies with a smirk that makes the man open his mouth to talk. No words come out when the young woman calmly steps closer and crosses her arms. “My fiancée, who I know you disapprove of, needs me to rescue him. That means my actions are of a personal nature and none of your business. In regard to my peers being worried about my company’s viability, I’m sure the only ones complaining are those who give all of you a big cut of the profits. Oh, I’m well aware of your secret deals. You really have to stop doing such shady business when the maids and butlers who work for me are around, especially Eileen. She’s my personal assistant, so she’s going to report to me every time. You know, I’m suddenly questioning your abilities because you obviously have no forethought
or sense of caution. How many secret deals have you made that benefit only you and the client while creating a loss for me?”

  “You put the business at risk and have the gall to point a finger at us?” asks a Dwarven woman, who steps out of the pack to point a mug at Kira. She moves away when her gesture is met by the cup being slapped out of her hands by the heiress. “Our actions are done to protect us from your recklessness. If the Grasdons fall then these deals will make sure we do not join you in poverty. Wayland’s daughter will not take us down along with his legacy. You must have heard the rumors that your peers have little respect for you. It is not your place to get involved in fights and adventures. Leave that for people like Lady Solomon and this filthy woman. They are trained for such things while you are a girl who has played warrior for too long.”

  “I can tell that you truly help our business by showing such disrespect to me in public,” Kira says, her voice dripping with venom. Turning to her guests, she sees an expression of pity on their averted faces that makes her blood boil. “I’ve been trained by Selenia Hamilton and have fought in more battles than nearly every person here. You say I’m weak, but only because I refuse to obey and do what you want like I always did as a child. Makes me think none of you know what real strength is. Hear this warning or promise, depending on your thoughts on the situation. Anyone who decides to do business with me must learn that I do not back down from anything. This is why my newer deals are so much more profitable and respectful than the ones my partners cling to.”