Legends of Windemere: 03 - Allure of the Gypsies

by Charles E Yallowitz

  The Lich laughs until he coughs up bone shards. “Both of us will talk to him. There is strength in numbers. Besides, I don’t think either of us wants to miss the look on his face.”

  15

  “Again, what is the extent of the damages?” Kalam asks, a cold rage brewing in his gray eyes.

  “Your wards are badly damaged, but they still protect about forty six percent of your lair. It will-” starts Trinity before she realizes what she’s doing. “Why am I reporting to you like a servant? The Lich already told you everything. Here’s his report.” She tosses a thick scroll to the vampire and leans back in her chair.

  “You dare to speak to me with such disrespect?” Kalam hisses.

  “She is merely upset about Nyx’s escape. Trinity cannot be sure that such an opportunity to kill Nyx will come again,” the Lich says, gliding in between Kalam and Trinity. “It does us no good to fight amongst ourselves. We must regain your spellbook as soon as possible.”

  Kalam bares his teeth and snarls in frustration. “My precious spellbook has been stolen and my god-forged throne has been destroyed. Neither of you did anything to prevent these disasters.”

  “I lost an arm,” the Lich mentions while waving his boney stump.

  “A creature like you should have taken more damage before giving up,” the vampire angrily snaps. “Now, my spellbook can fall into the hands of Ionia or my brother. My secrets will be theirs’ and they will be able to destroy all of my work.”

  “What work?” Trinity scoffs under her breath. “You’ve been hiding for years without setting foot outside for anything more than a snack.”

  “That was necessary in order to perfect my spells,” Kalam sternly argues.

  “Well, I guess I can’t argue with that,” Trinity admits.

  “We will leave for Haven immediately!” Kalam declares, a line of blood-tainted drool falling from his mouth. “Both of you must lead our forces to make up for your lack of action.”

  The Lich clears his throat, sending ash and dust into the air. “I would recommend waiting. Your forces are still weak. We need, at least, another thirty-four hours to finish the new batch of zombie soldiers. If we left now, it would only be the three of us and a small force of skeletons. Then, there is the arrival of the Sword Dragon, which is not for another fifty hours. We must remember that this construct could be our key to victory. All you have to do is wait for everything to be ready and we will win back your spellbook with ease.”

  “Why are you acting cautious and patient? It is not like you,” Kalam points out, leaning as close to the Lich as possible. The smell of dried blood wafts out of the vampire’s nostrils with every breath.

  “It is purely for a selfish reason. I wish to dispose of Luke Callindor by my own hands,” the Lich claims, refusing to back away from his old teacher. “Your spellbook was stolen to bring him back to life. The priest must have reawakened the boy’s spirit, so they could return it to his body using one of your spells. The priest and the Callindor will be out of action for the next day or two. I have no interest in entering a battle when my desired target might not be on the battlefield.”

  “I don’t see why we should continue helping him. It was his stupidity that got us into this mess,” Trinity interjects, grinning evilly at Kalam. “Who leaves their precious spellbook in the middle of a treasure horde with nothing more than animated furniture to protect it? There should have been a trap spell on the altar or a contact poison on the book. This just reeks of bad planning and underestimation of one’s enemies.”

  Kalam shoves the Lich out of his way and advances on the chaos elf. “You have no right to insult a superior being! Need I remind you that your people are nothing more than fodder? Even their great queen is nothing more than a disposable errand girl.”

  “Be careful, vampire. I have no problem killing you if you push me,” Trinity threatens him, acid dripping from her nails.

  “You do not scare me, child,” Kalam snarls.

  “Shut up. You have shown me nothing more than incompetence. You lost an army to a handful of warriors without killing any of your targets,” Trinity says. She jabs a finger at Kalam’s chest, igniting a small spell that pushes him away. “Then, I captured the student of Cyril only for you to lock her in a mundane cell that she escaped. I can’t think of anything that you’ve done right since we allied with you.”

  Kalam roars, growing his claws until they are a foot long, before leaping at Trinity. The chaos elf waits until the last second and jumps away from the razor sharp nails. Kalam follows Trinity with a flurry of attacks, leaving long, narrow holes in the walls and floor. The Lich tries to get in the way of his old teacher, but finds himself hurled across the room. The Lich’s momentary distraction gives Trinity enough time to summon a small tear in the air and extract a long bullwhip. A deafening crack fills the air when the chaos elf strikes Kalam, hitting him down the middle of his face. A burning sensation fills his skull as the vampire touches the back of his hand to his face. He pulls his hand away and sees sticky, melting flesh dripping to the floor.

  “A magical weapon hidden in a pocket dimension. I'm impressed. The scentless acid is a nice touch,” Kalam compliments, giving Trinity a small bow.

  “Thanks,” Trinity responds. She rushes at him and slams the metal pommel of her whip into the vampire’s forehead. Kalam’s eyes roll back in his head as he drops at her feet.

  “What did you hit him with?” the Lich asks, slowly gliding over to her.

  “The pommel of my whip is made out of a rare grade of dwarven steel. It took years for the metal to be properly forged, but it was worth the wait,” the chaos elf answers, prodding Kalam with her foot. “He should be fine and fully healed in a few hours. I’ll leave him a note of apology, telling him that I did it for his own good. Probably tell him that we could have severely injured each other.”

  The Lich cackles gently. “It appears my old teacher has worn out his usefulness.”

  “So, how do we end this alliance and walk away with the spoils?” Trinity inquires.

  “As far as the spellbook is concerned, I have already put a plan into action to get it back,” the Lich proudly reveals. “I must keep it a secret. Let me just say that there is an agent in Haven who owes me a favor.”

  “As long as it gets the job done, you can keep your secrets. I will take care of your old teacher,” Trinity assures him, a wicked smile across her face. “I believe I just figured out a way for us to walk away unharmed from this entire mess. Though, we’ll have to give up the gypsy for the time being.”

  “A small sacrifice. I will leave Kalam’s demise in your hands,” the Lich says. He sinks into the floor and disappears without a sound.

  *****

  Luke feels a mild pulse leap off his body and up his arm when he reaches out to poke himself in the forehead. He ignores the noises of Ionia looking through the spellbook and talking with Nyx. Their words are unintelligible static to his ears, which strengthens his fear and despair. Within the last six hours, every attempt to interact with Nyx has been met with heart-crushing failure. He regains some hope when Aedyn stops meditating and walks toward him, but his hope is crushed when the priest harmlessly passes through him.

  “I can’t talk to them to let them know that time is almost up. Ionia and Aedyn can’t even sense me like they did before. We wasted too much time sav-” Luke says. He stops himself and frowns in a fit of self-loathing. “Who am I kidding? Saving Sari has nothing to do with this. It would be pathetic for me to blame my problems on her. At least I can fade away knowing that I helped save one more person.” He wishes somebody could hear his final words, but the graying world surrounding him proves that he is nearly out of time.

  He takes a seat next to his body and continues to watch the others. His sees his parents enter the room as Ionia begins pointing around. Sari quickly gets a chair for his mother while, Luke assumes, introducing herself. He can tell that the gypsy is desperately trying to cheer his parents up. He can’t figure o
ut why she is swinging her arms and dancing about, but he smiles once he sees his mom smile. A warm sensation around his eyes catches his attention. He turns around to see a prismatic tear run down the side of his body’s cheek.

  “They started!” Luke happily yells, noticing Aedyn on the far side of the bed.

  The priest’s hands are moving as fast as they can, as if they are weaving something around Luke’s body. A few seconds pass before Luke sees glowing strands rise from every pore of his body. The strands dance in the air until they suddenly go taut at the same time he feels a hard yank on his ghostly form. Looking around himself, he can see the strands reaching out to attach to his spirit and slowly draw him toward his body. A wave of enthusiastic joy washes over the half-elf while he hovers over his body. He is less than an inch away from his goal when an invisible barrier prevents him from getting closer. The strands begin shifting wildly until they cocoon him, preventing him from making the slightest movement.

  A searing pain cuts through his spirit and his body violently convulses. He fights against the spasms to look around the room. A porcelain cup is being brought toward him by Ionia and he can see his grandfather sheathing one of his longswords. It takes him a second to realize that his parents, his grandfather, and Nyx have blood dripping from their open hands. A pleasant feeling of drifting off to sleep invades his senses. His eyes close at the same time a flash of red light explodes from a red liquid that is poured through his aura and onto his forehead.

  *****

  “Not bad for my first resurrection. Though, I wish it didn’t have to be rushed. I barely had time to analyze the magic involved,” Ionia admits, putting the porcelain cup down.

  Nyx nervously leans over Luke and rapidly asks, “Is he alive? Did we get the right spirit? Will he remember being a ghost? How long does it take for him to wake up?”

  Luke’s eyes jolt open without warning. “I can hear you!”

  “Not very . . . ow!” Nyx shouts as Luke shoots out of bed, slamming his head against her chin.

  “I can feel you too,” Luke groans, holding the top of his head.

  “He is back to normal. Start slow, Luke,” Aedyn warns the excited warrior, a wide grin plastered across his face.

  “I’ll be fi-” starts the forest tracker. He tries to stand and crashes to the floor at his mother’s feet. “I can’t feel my legs.”

  Talos moves to help Luke to his feet, but is quickly cut off by Vixen who heaves her son up by his arms. Vixen gives him a vise-like hug that leaves the half-elf gasping for air. A feeling of dizziness grows in his temples until his father gently pries her off. Ilan helps to keep Luke steady while his son walks to a nearby chair. Ilan sits Luke down and takes a step back from his son.

  “I think you should calm down,” the smiling blacksmith suggests. “You’ve been pretty busy for a dead man.”

  “And you have been hiding stuff from me,” Luke accuses his father, causing everyone to stare at him in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had magical weapons? What other stories haven’t you told me, dad?”

  Ionia laughs gently and puts a hand on Nyx’s shoulder. “He sure is full of life. It’s like he’s making up for lost time. Well, it looks like you don’t need me to stay around and watch his recovery. I left my kingdom in the middle of some gala. I think I was knighting somebody, but it wasn’t important. I do hope that man hasn’t been kneeling in front of my throne all this time.”

  “Are you sure you have to go?” Nyx sadly asks.

  “Yes,” Ionia quietly replies, stroking Nyx’s ebony hair. “Kalam will be coming in a few days and I shouldn’t be involved in that fight. This town is so nice. It would be horrible for it to be destroyed because I had to do battle. Now, here is your new spellbook. I hope to hear of your many adventures.” She drops Kalam’s musky spellbook at Nyx’s feet and raises her hand to snap her fingers, but the half-elf quickly grabs the queen by the wrist.

  “I don’t want it. This book is filled with death spells,” Nyx whispers. She pushes the book back to Ionia with her foot. “Besides, it’s too heavy for me to carry on the road.”

  “Well, I don’t want it,” the queen hisses, twisting her hands free. “It’s filled with death spells and I only have so much room in my library.”

  Nyx grabs her wrist again. “You take it.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “Take it.”

  “Don’t you dare give orders to a queen.”

  “I’ll tell Cyril you sent me into Kalam’s lair . . . alone.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “I will also tell him that you set me up,” Nyx says with an impish grin. “Rather convenient that you gave me aura dust, which I would need to save Luke. It was almost like you knew what was going to happen. After all, it was the perfect opportunity to get a powerful book out of the hands of one of your strongest enemies.”

  “You have no proof,” Ionia scoffs with a wave of her hand.

  “I don’t need proof to make Cyril and Willow curious,” Nyx wickedly declares. “You did have that addiction to vision potions all those years ago. They might think you are back to your old habits, which could result in a very big headache for you. Remember last time when Willow moved in to help you?” She watches Ionia’s right eye rapidly twitch. “You can avoid this by taking that cursed book away from me.”

  “You’ve become a lot more cunning in your old age, firebug. Only a few years ago, you would have never considered that you were a pawn. You would have done what you were told and harmlessly whine to me afterwards,” Ionia says with a tired sigh. “If you must know, I had a vision about something like this happening. I swear that this vision was not induced by a potion. It was a message from Uli who was going to use this accident to meet with Luke. She needed me to start the wheels turning toward his resurrection.” The queen holds her hands out and smiles. “There you have it. The big secret of your adventure revealed. I still won’t take that horrible tome to my pristine library.”

  Talos clears his throat causing both women to jump. “I’ll take the book since neither of you want to deal with it. I can send it to someone for destruction once we finish this business with Kalam.”

  “Good idea. To get rid of it now will cause that monster to destroy the town in retaliation. With the book here, you have a bargaining chip,” Ionia states, happy to have a way out of taking the book. “Now, I must be off before I begin to enjoy the quaintness of this town. Nice meeting all of you.” She bows, her left hand swinging behind her back, and snaps her fingers.

  “Thanks, your highness!” Luke shouts as the queen vanishes in a puff of yellow smoke.

  “Where’s her talking squirrel?” Nyx wonders.

  “Talking squirrel?” Aedyn curiously asks. The dark bags under his eyes give him a near-death appearance.

  “Never mind. Now that the great hero is back among the living, I’m going to get some sleep,” Nyx says with a yawn. She gives Luke a small kiss on the cheek. “Good to have you back, little brother.”

  “You’re leaving already, Nyx?” Luke whines from his chair. “I just came back from the dead and I have things to tell you. I’m a chosen of Uli now. She gave me powers. You have to stay and watch what I can do with her blessing.”

  “Can’t you just tell me?” Nyx asks.

  “Well . . .” begins the half-elf with a weak grin.

  “He doesn’t know,” Talos interrupts. He cautiously places Kalam’s spellbook in a cabinet. “A forest tracker will learn his powers when a trainer is introduced to him or he risks experimentation.”

  “In that case, I will go to bed and rest up for the battle with Kalam. I hope he brings that cobalt-skinned hag along,” Nyx says before a wide yawn temporarily steals her voice. “Anyway, goodnight and it’s good to have you back, Luke.”

  “I should go to sleep too. I have been meditating and praying since you left for Kalam’s lair,” mentions Aedyn, extending his hand toward Luke with a small smile. “I am honored to have a hand
in returning you to us.”

  Luke shrugs and pouts. “I see you haven’t changed . . .”

  “You are such a fool,” the priest laughs. He yanks Luke off the chair and into another tight hug.

  “I don’t think my ribs can take any more hugs,” Luke groans, giving a solid slap to Aedyn’s back.

  Aedyn lets go of Luke who manages to stay standing. “It reminds you that you are alive. I would say get some rest, but you have slept enough over the last few days. I added an energizer spell to my meditating to prevent your muscles from atrophying. Do not over do it because you still have some minor weakness and you might pull something. I suggest taking a slow walk around the village with no running or leaping. Consider this your doctor’s orders, which should be followed to the letter.”

  “Yes, sir,” the forest tracker says with his tongue sticking out.

  “Smart ass,” Aedyn sighs while shaking his head and stiffly following Nyx out of the room.

  “Those poor kids. We should help them get to the house, Ilan,” Vixen kindly suggests. She gently squeezes Luke’s hand. “I’m sorry to leave you, dear, but we can talk later. Your friends need our help and I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in days.”

  Ilan cautiously mentions, “I hope this debacle teaches you a lesson about the life you’ve chosen.”

  The elf’s face contorts in pain when his wife viciously grabs him by his pointed ear and drags him to the door. Luke chuckles to himself as he hears his parents arguing outside. He feels a strong hand grip him by the shoulder, turning him to face his grandfather. Talos stares at him proudly without saying a word and gives his shoulder a final squeeze. The old elf tucks his hands into his pockets and turns away, whistling to himself. Luke is about to say something when the whistling gets louder and Talos walks out of the room.

  “Why did they all leave?” Luke asks forlornly.

  “It’s because some of them are tired and some of them don’t want you to see them cry,” Sari answers from the corner of the room. She is sitting on the hardwood floor, her skirts neatly strewn around her. “Your father and grandfather have a lot of pride. Though, most men seem to have too much of that for their own good.”