by F. P. Spirit
“Think they need our help?” Ruka stood up and nonchalantly stretching her thin five-foot frame.
“I don’t know.” Seth’s voice was measured as he gingerly moved his own three-foot frame to the edge of the roof. He carefully surveyed the battlefield below. Three dark mages astride seven large serpents, versus Lloyd and Donatello—what could possibly go wrong?
The two listened silently as Voltark made his pre-battle speech. They nodded appreciatively when Lloyd slew a large serpent and watched intently as Voltark’s companions were felled by lightning bolts shortly thereafter. Seth finally spoke up after four chain-mailed warriors, the castle guards, and the Boulder joined the fray.
“No, I believe they’re good.” He sat back down at the roof’s edge.
“Whatever you say.” Ruka shrugged and seated herself next to him.
They watched the spectacle below until Glolindir was caught unprepared. Seth shot up, the blood draining from his face. He watched in horror as his friend was consumed by Voltark’s fireball. He briefly relived that awful moment when his old master died. It had happened in much the same way. Seth held his breath as the fireball dissipated and Glo’s burnt body fell over.
Ruka’s voice was filled with uncharacteristic concern. “Don’t worry. Look. Ves has him. She’ll take care of him.”
Seth saw a blonde figure, garbed in a bronze gown, catch Glo. Shortly thereafter, he saw the blue white light of Ves’s healing power envelope his friend’s body. Abruptly, Voltark’s voice bellowed out from a spot over the battlefield. He gloated about his triumph over Glo and threatened the other combatants. Seth found himself quite irritated that the mage was not in knife-throwing range. “You know, he is starting to really piss me off. I just wish Glo could’ve gotten off one last lightning bolt...”
Ruka’s reply was cryptic. “That can be arranged.”
The girl drew out her short sword and pointed the weapon directly at the hovering mage. The blade began to glow, then a flash erupted from it, sending a bolt of lightning across the courtyard! It hit Voltark at the same time as a ray of searing white light and a pair of arrows.
Seth cried with glee. “Nice!”
“It was nothing.” Ruka sounded rather pleased with herself, despite her nonchalant choice of words.
Seth then caught sight of Lloyd rising up from the ground, his blades alight with flame. He watched with keen pleasure as the warrior sliced the evil wizard in half. Both he and Ruka lost their composure, breaking into cheers and dancing with delight in a precarious circle at the edge of the rooftop. Just as quickly, the pair stopped, staring at each other self-consciously.
Seth was the first to speak, trying to mask his embarrassment. “You know, they don’t make villains the way they used to. First sign of trouble and they just fall to pieces.”
Ruka snickered. “Yeah. Guess he just couldn’t hack it.”
They both stood there, arms folded across their chests, their mouths twisted into wide smirks. As things wound down in the courtyard below, Seth’s thoughts went back to Ruka’s sword. A weapon that could shoot lightning bolts was not exactly common. In fact, he could swear he had heard a legend about it at some point. He decided to say something to gauge her reaction. “By the way, nice sword you got there.”
“Thanks.” Ruka’s tone was curt, her eyes remaining focused on the aftermath below.
Seth tried once more. “So where does one get one of those?”
“Family heirloom.” She still refused to look his way.
Seth shrugged his shoulders. Oh, well, nothing ventured. “Anyway, now that that’s over, I think I’ll go back and check out the campsite. Someone needs to makes sure none of those creeps are still skulking about.”
“Good luck.” Ruka barely nodded.
“See you around.” Seth made his way across the rooftop. The whole time, he could not get the image of that glowing sword out of his head.
Seth re-entered the performers’ camp a short while later. It was situated halfway down the hill, between the keep and the town proper. Earlier in the day, he had spied a number of new wagons at the other end. Upon further investigation, he had found a large serpent hidden in one of those enclosed wagons. Seth now slowly crept between those same wagons, virtually silent and invisible thanks to his magic cloak. Without warning, an unfamiliar voice spoke behind him.
“Where are you going, little one?”
Seth started, quickly spinning around. A tall human female stood outside one of the wagons he had just passed. He could have sworn there was no one there a few moments ago. The strange woman was dressed in gypsy’s garb, the most striking thing about her being her bright violet eyes. They were currently staring right at him, even though he was supposed to be invisible.
“Yes, I can see you,” she said in a quiet voice, as if reading his mind.
Seth walked cautiously over to the woman, keeping an eye out for anything that might be a trap. He stopped a few feet from her.
“Who are you?” he whispered.
She pointed to herself in mock surprise. “Me? I am a mere fortune teller.”
Seth eyed the woman suspiciously. This was no mere fortuneteller, especially if she could see him while he was invisible.
The woman wore an amused expression. “If you must, you can call me Elistra, but what you really want to know is how I can see you when you are invisible. Am I right?”
“You might be.” Seth’s tone was noncommittal. She was exactly right. Seth was no novice to magic—he knew that wizards and sorcerers could cast spells to see the invisible. They could even make items that would enable the wearer to see the invisible. Perhaps this woman was wearing such an item. She did have a number of rings on her fingers.
“No, it is nothing I am wearing,” she answered his unasked question, still appearing quite amused. “Let’s just say that I have certain gifts, and these gifts provide me with advantages that most people do not have.”
Seth was not often taken by surprise, but he was not sure what to make of this Elistra. She was either really good at reading people or she could actually read minds. Seth had known quite a number of gypsy folk growing up, and he knew most of the cons. Thus, he was not that easy to read. She had caught him by surprise at first, but now he was on his guard. He decided to play along with her.
“So what are these advantages?”
Elistra placed a finger on her chin as if deciding how best to explain. “For one, I can see and hear things others cannot. For example, I can speak with spirits, and sometimes I can even divine the future.”
Seth studied the woman carefully. “That must be pretty useful.”
A full-fledged smile sprouted across her lips. “It can be at times.”
So either she is psionicist, she is trying to con me, or she is just plain nuts. Psionicists had psychic powers—some could in fact read minds. Either way, Seth did not trust her.
Elistra continued in a casual tone. “But it is not all fun and games, I can assure you. It is a good thing that you are skeptical. There are dark forces at work here, and it is best that you are on your guard.”
She folded her arms across her chest and regarded him silently, waiting for his response. Seth was not in the mood to play guessing games though. He stared back at her, refusing to speak. The gypsy woman finally gave up, letting out a deep sigh. Her tone was now serious, all traces of amusement gone. “Very well, I know that you and your friends are seeking them out. My instincts are telling me that I should help you uncover them.”
“My friends?” Seth was unwilling to give her any bit of information.
“Yes, Seth, your friends. I know who you are and who your friends are as well. You Heroes have become somewhat of a force for good in this area in these last few weeks. That is something that will be sorely needed in the days ahead. If I can help you in some small w
ay, then that will be beneficial for all involved.”
Seth mulled her words over. It didn’t surprise him that she knew who he or his friends were. There had been gossip about them all over Ravenford that could have easily spread to neighboring towns by now. Even Fafnar had alluded to knowing their name. Yet he was still not quite sure whether he believed her, so he decided to put her to the test. “That’s all well and fine, but what I really need to know right now is if there are any more of these Serpent Cult folks around. Can your gifts tell me that?”
A smile crossed the gypsy woman’s face. “Why, yes, they can actually.”
Her head tilted back, and her eyes took on a faraway look. It reminded Seth of when Glo was in contact with his raven familiar. It only lasted a few moments, then her eyes cleared and her expression grew serious once more. “While I no longer detect serpents or dark magicians in the area, I do in fact feel something dark emanating from that carriage.” She pointed to an enclosed wagon about a dozen yards to his left. It was not much different from the rest, other than the orange sides and green trim. Like all the others, the door was closed and the shades were pulled.
“Well then, let’s go and check it out,” Seth said, still wary of this strange woman.
Elistra laughed gaily at his measured response. “Oh, you are the doubter, aren’t you? Very good. Do you want me to lead the way?”
Seth shook his head. “No. I’ve got this.”
On their way over to the wagon, Seth wondered if this woman was playing some kind of elaborate game with him. There was always the possibility she was luring him into a trap. He was cautious, though, and trusted his own reflexes enough to get not caught. There was also the remote possibility she was telling the truth. Yet, Seth did not trust in the altruism of any mysterious benefactor. No, if she were helping them, he found it hard to believe that it was merely out of the goodness of her heart.
This Elistra was shrewd. She was playing some angle he hadn’t quite yet figured out, but he would sooner or later, of that he had no doubt. When they reached the wagon, Seth climbed the short stairway to the door. Elistra stayed on the ground below. Checking the door, he found it was locked, but that was quickly remedied. Seth slowly opened it and peered through the doorway. There was a dull glow coming from somewhere inside. He turned to look down at the gypsy woman.
“Coming?” he mouthed the word.
She smiled and silently climbed the stairs behind him. As Seth entered the wagon, he heard a low moan.
“Help me,” the disembodied voice lamented.
He scanned the inside of the wagon. There was a small room here in the front of the wagon, filled with chairs and a table with a number of grotesque-looking instruments on it, as well as magical paraphernalia. One of those items was a dimly-glowing lamp. A hall led down the center toward the back of the trailer. Abruptly, Seth’s eyes fell upon a gruesome sight. There was a body, or the top half of a body, hanging on the wall. It appeared to be alive, or at least it was talking.
“Help me,” it gasped. “Please. I am in pain like this. Please... kill me.”
The figure seemed strangely familiar. He knew that face from somewhere. Then recognition dawned on him. He had seen this human back at Stone Hill. It was that dark wizard, Telvar!
“Is he alive?” he whispered to the gypsy behind him. “Half alive,” she responded.
Despite himself, Seth snickered.
“No pun intended. It is an evil spell which keeps the spirit tied to the body, even though it is dead.”
“Listen to me,” the apparent corpse of Telvar continued. Its voice was strained as if it took a great effort just to speak. “They have my work, and they know... where I found it. Now they go... to seek the rest. They go to... the Monolith.”
“What research do you mean?” Seth asked, all sorts of warning bells going off in his head. He still did not trust this whole situation, but he would continue to play along until he was sure one way or the other.
“The... golem master’s... notes. Larketh’s... notes,” the animated corpse continued, its voice sounding as if it were in agony.
Seth raised an eyebrow. Many people knew about the golems, but no one knew about Larketh’s notes—no one except for Maltar, the Baron, the Baroness, and Captain Gelpas. Somehow, he did not believe any of them would share that information. No, he was certain, now, that this was Telvar, or at least what was left of the dark mage. The half-alive wizard continued to speak.
“But the Master’s book... Larketh’s book... can be found... at the Darkwoods Monolith.” He paused and gasped for air once more. “If the cult finds it... they will be able... to make their own golems... like in the old days. Golems that haven’t been seen... since the Thrall Masters... walked the earth.”
If what Telvar was saying was true, then this was extremely serious. The Thrall Master’s magic was unparalleled in their respective areas of research. Even today, no one could make golems as powerful as Larketh had.
“Now please... end this spell,” Telvar groaned with pain. “Set my spirit free.”
Seth turned to Elistra. Can you do that?”
“Yes I can.” The gypsy woman slowly stepped forward and raised her hands in concentration.
Seth watched the whole scene carefully. The evil mage peered at the woman standing before him, but there was no recognition in his eyes, nor any fear. She had been telling the truth and had sensed the presence in this trailer. She was not merely one of Telvar’s torturers, using this as some kind of clever ruse to gain his trust. Seth still did not accept this woman at face value, but he could live with that for now.
What Telvar had just told them was far more important than any lingering distrust he had of this Elistra. If the Golem Thrall Master’s work did fall into the hands of the Serpent Cult, they could supplement their army of serpents with an army of golems. He just imagined the town of Ravenford being invaded by dozens of serpents and Boulder-like creatures. Even with him and his friends by their side, Ravenford would not stand a chance. The Baron and his friends needed to be warned.
Abruptly, Seth felt a surge of power in the air. It was not quite magical, it was somehow different, but it was most definitely power. The light from the lamp on the table dimmed, and the half-corpse of Telvar sagged as the life went out of it. He and the gypsy woman now stood alone in the near darkness. Seth heard a ghostly Thank you, and then the lamp light brightened once again.
“He’s gone,” Elistra announced with a sigh.
“I need to report this to the others. Will you still be here in case they want to talk with you?”
“Wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else,” Elistra said as if she had been expecting the question.
Seth stared at her for a few moments, but the gypsy woman merely gave him a calm smile. It was as if she was certain they would be calling upon her again soon. The halfling just shook his head, then vaulted out of the trailer and headed back toward the keep.
False Accusations
If you want to question the honor of my friends, it shall be at the end of my swords
Back up at the keep, the rest of the companions had followed Gryswold and Gracelynn outside to the courtyard. There they began to assess what was left of the dinner that had been laid out for Lady Andrella’s birthday. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much left to be seen. The food was destroyed, the place settings melted, the great oaken tables charred, and the chairs smoldered kindling. Gryswold and Gracelynn stood, quietly surveying the aftermath. Andrella, however, was not so silent.
“My party is ruined!” The young lady turned and buried her head in Lloyd’s broad chest, openly weeping. The young man did his best to console her, holding her close and talking to her softly.
Gryswold reached over and placed a large hand on his daughter’s slim shoulder. “Now, now, Andrella. It will all be fine.”
Andrella gazed up at her father, but then buried her head in Lloyd’s chest again, her tears beginning anew. Gryswold dropped his arm, looking utterly defeated. The Lady Gracelynn pulled her husband aside, reached up, and placed her hands on his broad shoulders. Her eyes were filled with sympathy and understanding.
“Then we’ll just have to start all over again.”
Gryswold smiled at his kindhearted wife. He then straightened up, turned around, and shouted to the surrounding staff. “I want everything repaired here and ready within the hour.”
Grabbing Gracelynn’s hand, the two of them went to direct the recovery. Meanwhile, the companions surveyed the wreckage around them.
Aksel shook his head. “What a mess. I don’t see how they’re going to be able to fix all this in an hour.”
Elladan wore a thoughtful expression. “If they commandeered the kitchens in all the inns they might get enough meals prepared. They could even borrow silverware if necessary.”
Glo’s eyes swept across the burnt tables. “They would still need seating for sixty. I guess they could cart up tables from the inns, too.”
Aksel’s face brightened. “It’s a good idea. We should go tell the Baron.”
Aksel and Elladan went to tell Gryswold, but something held Glo back. If the other casters had been prepared, they could have magically mended the tables and chairs. With just himself, though, it would take all night, and they would still be without food anyway. His eyes returned to Lloyd and Andrella, the young man still trying to console her.
