by Kate Novak
Cat clutched the sack for only a moment, then released it. The wizard chuckled and tied it to his belt.
“Now, Giogioni, you will give me the spur this minute,” Flattery growled, rising to his feet and taking up the sphere holding Amberlee, “or I will feed this brat to a wraith. Then you will give me the spur or your aunt will be next. Or maybe Cat. Try to change your shape, and they will be dead before you can cross the room.”
Giogi drew the spur from his boot. “I want to be sure my aunt is well. Send her to my side, and I will give her the spur to take to you.”
Flattery snorted. He descended the dais and shoved Dorath with his foot. “Go,” he ordered her.
Dorath rose slowly to her feet and crossed the room. The wrinkles on her face had doubled, and she looked very feeble. She stopped before Giogi and raised her hand to stroke his face.
“Don’t be a fool,” Dorath whispered, mustering as much of her grandaunt tones as she dared. “He can’t be trusted. Flee now. Once he has the spur, no spells will affect him. None of us will leave here alive.”
“I can’t leave you,” Giogi said, pressing the spur into her gnarled hands.
“I won’t give him this,” she hissed.
Giogi pushed his aunt’s hand down by her thigh. “Carry it to him like this. When you reach him, think of the dream,” he whispered.
“No,” Dorath said, her eyes widening with fear.
“Yes. Do as I say,” Giogi commanded through clenched teeth.
“I won’t become that beast,” Aunt Dorath whispered.
“Stop being a foolish old woman,” Giogi said. “Be a hero, like your mother. It’s our only chance. Amberlee’s only chance.”
“Stop whispering!” Flattery shouted. “Bring the spur to me, now!”
“Don’t keep him waiting, Aunt Dorath,” Giogi said. “Do it.”
With her jaw still jutting out stubbornly, Dorath turned around. Her gnarled hands trembled with fear. She shuffled toward Flattery, hunched over with age.
Flattery set Amberlee down and strode toward Dorath, holding his hand out impatiently. Horrified, Giogi watched Dorath hold her hand out to the wizard. Flattery snatched the prize she offered.
Sweet Selune, Giogi thought, she was too frightened.
We’re all doomed.
Flattery turned his back on her, muttering casually, “Kill them.”
Misty black wraiths and corpse-gray wights began closing in on Giogi and Dorath at once.
The Final Battle
Giogi drew his foil and rushed forward, shouting, “Stay back!” In his left hand the finder’s stone flared with a light as bright as day. The undead backed away from the light, snarling and retreating to the back of the audience chamber.
Flattery whirled around suddenly. “What is this?” he shouted. He hurled at Dorath’s head the object she’d just handed him. The old woman’s shape had already begun to blur and grow, however, and the wooden darning sock bounced off her red wyvern scales and clattered harmlessly to the floor.
Without a second’s hesitation Dorath smashed her stinging tail down on the wizard, catching him in the shoulder with its venomous tip. As Flattery crumbled to the ground screaming, Dorath snatched up in her mouth the globe that held Amberlee, and whirled around.
“Run, Aunt Dorath!” Giogi shouted.
The wyvern plodded from the audience chamber as fast as its two birdlike legs could carry it, ducking to clear the door frame.
From the top of the dais Giogi saw Cat pulling out a scroll she’d concealed in the sash she wore. Giogi rushed toward Flattery, but one undead, a dark shadow unafraid of the light, intercepted the nobleman.
Giogi drew back. He still couldn’t remember the entire rhyme about the undead, but the line “A shadow’s touch saps the strength” came to him in a flash. He could hear Cat chanting, reading from her scroll.
Flattery stumbled to his feet, a bloodstain spreading on his robe. “After the wyvern!” he screamed.
A swarm of wraiths skimmed around the finder’s stone’s light, heading for the door, but they all bounced backward, repelled by an invisible barrier.
Satisfied that his aunt would make good her escape, the nobleman turned his full attention to the shadow. He lunged at it with his foil, but the weapon did no more damage to the creature than a stick did to air. The shadow closed on Giogi, its hands outstretched, its body traveling up the length of the foil’s blade.
Just as the shadow reached the weapon’s guard, Giogi heard Cat cry out the word “coffin,” and the shadow halted. Giogi stepped back and withdrew his foil from the undead. Cat ran to the nobleman.
Flattery turned toward them. “I taught you to hold undead, Cat. But where did you get the wall of force?” the wizard asked. “A scroll, Cat? You’ve blocked your own exit. Why don’t you lower it and flee?”
“No,” Giogi whispered to her. “We need to give Aunt Dorath time to reach Redstone.”
“You’ve bought your miserable relatives a few hours,” Flattery replied. “I will have the spur from them once I’ve dispensed with you. Your Uncle Drone is dead. The old woman may be able to wield the spur, but she is the only other one, and she will be too weak to fight me, even if she can resist my magic. If they do not surrender the spur, they all will die.”
He doesn’t know Uncle Drone is alive, Giogi realized. If I can stall Flattery long enough for Aunt Dorath to reach Redstone, Uncle Drone will come to help.
“Let’s see, Catling. Besides holding that undead,” Flattery said, motioning to the immobile shadow that had nearly gotten Giogi, “you assaulted me with missiles. You summoned me earlier today with a whispering wind bird. You have more power still. Cast something else at me.”
“Why bother? It’s obvious you’ve made yourself invulnerable to my attacks,” she said, indicating the reddish glow that outlined his body. “I’ll save my attacks for your undead, should any more of them have the courage to brave the light of Giogi’s stone.”
“I don’t think you have any power left,” the wizard taunted, “which makes you just a woman.” Flattery advanced toward her menacingly.
“A woman under my protection,” Giogi said, stepping forward with his foil leveled at the wizard. With the hand that held the finder’s stone the nobleman pushed Cat behind him. Without undead to shield him, Giogi wondered, can I run Flattery through before he can cast a spell?
Flattery snorted at Giogi’s foil. “So, the men of the clan still learn to use that ridiculous weapon,” the wizard said, stepping back and assuming a fencing stance. He snapped his fingers and whispered, “Ward.” A foil appeared in his hand.
“Well, Giogioni,” Flattery said, saluting with his foil. “Do we fight over the lady’s honor? I use the word ‘lady’ loosely, of course.”
Giogi returned the salute with a cold anger. “On guard,” he replied, crouching into his stance. Behind him he could hear Cat begin whispering another chant. In his back hand, the finder’s stone remained bright.
For the first few minutes, Flattery parried Giogi’s attacks without attacking back, taking the measure of his opponent. The wizard’s parries were flawless.
“I take it,” Flattery said, “that beyond defending that witch, your intention is to avenge the deaths of your father and uncle.”
“Naturally,” Giogi replied. He beat at his opponent’s blade, forcing the wizard into a step backward.
“What kind of fool would fight for a doddering old man, a father who’d abandoned him, and a slut without a memory?” Flattery asked, finally making an attack lunge at Giogi’s shoulder. Giogi parried high, but Flattery’s motion proved to be a feint for a lower attack at his ribs. Giogi was forced to retreat a step.
Giogi fought down the anger the wizard’s words ignited in him. It looked as if he might be sorely outclassed in this battle. It was imperative that he remain levelheaded.
It was true that Uncle Drone was a bit of a duffer, and secretly Giogi had harbored hostility toward Cole for dying and abandoning
him, and there was no doubt that Cat had made a very unwise decision allying herself with Flattery. None of those things, however, were as important as the fact that he loved all those people. They were his family.
Giogi was just beginning to understand why he always stood up for them in spite of their failings. They wouldn’t be a family without failings. Poor Steele only feels Frefford’s rank and my wealth because he’s had to live second to them. Julia only wants to be loved. Aunt Dorath only wanted to protect me from her own fears. As for the others, …
“My uncle was foully ambushed,” Giogi stated. “My father died defending the family honor. And the lady never loved you; she was terrified of you. Who could blame her?”
Flattery scowled for just a moment, and his blade wavered. Giogi thought, Can’t take what he dishes out, eh?
“I wonder,” Giogi continued, suddenly feeling more confident and mixing feints in with his attacks, “What kind of man has no respect for the elderly, no loyalty to his family, and prefers the company of undead to a beautiful woman? You know, Flattery, I don’t think you’re a man at all.”
Flattery made a direct attack, low and clumsy, which Giogi parried easily.
“Close to the mark, eh?” the nobleman said with a chill disdain. “My guess would be you’re some sort of lich with an illusion spell to mimic the face of a true Wyvernspur.”
Flattery pressed at the nobleman’s blade, thrust, and lunged. The foil pierced through Giogi’s tabard and pricked the skin below his ribs before the nobleman managed to retreat.
Giogi nearly backed into Cat, who was still behind him reciting the words to some involved magic spell. Startled, the mage broke off her chant for a fraction of a second as she retreated to avoid being trampled by the nobleman. Upon recovering her balance, she resumed chanting, even faster than before.
“People say you’re nothing but a useless wastrel with delusions of being a warrior,” Flattery snarled. “You aren’t even competent with the foil. I’ve drawn first blood already.”
“Ah, but at least I have blood you can draw. What have you got, Flattery? If I get lucky and score a hit, will there be blood on my weapon or just some oozing ichor?”
Flattery thrust and lunged again, but Giogi parried and riposted. Flattery retreated slightly.
Both men slowed their attacks. Somewhere in his past Flattery had learned to fence very well, but it was not a skill he’d exercised for some while. He was tired. Giogi, who’d been riding and walking regularly, making his journey home, could last for some time, provided he wasn’t dealt a mortal wound—which ultimately Flattery could deliver.
Since Giogi’s purpose was to buy time for his Uncle Drone to arrive, not get himself killed, he slowed his attacks as well.
Still chanting, Cat pulled from her sash the special component the spell required. It was wrapped in a piece of paper and still smelled quite strong. She dipped all her fingers into it.
Flattery’s attacks began to speed up again, and Giogi renewed his taunting banter.
“So. What happened to all the zombies and ghouls? Did the Shard’s mist destroy every last one? Are those undead cowering from the light over there all that’s left of your army?”
“Undead are easy to recruit,” Flattery growled. “When we’ve finished with this battle, I shall give you a firsthand demonstration.”
Giogi felt Cat very close behind him. While he realized she needed to stay in the circle of light shed by the finder’s stone, so the undead did not attack her, he wished she would back away a little more, for both their safety.
She was practically chanting in his ear, words that made no sense at all to him. Her hands reached about his head, and she ran her fingers down his cheeks, smearing them with her spell component. She intoned, “Be as the beast.”
Giogi crinkled his nose. The scent of the spell components Cat had used to hold the shadow, garlic and sulfur, lingered on her hands, mingled in with a much stronger and more unpleasant odor—rather like dung. Cat pulled her hands back. “This is the only spell I have left,” she whispered in Giogi’s ear. “I’ve saved it for you, my love.” Then she stepped back.
Flattery’s nose twitched from the smell. “You can give him the strength of a golem, Catling, but it won’t improve his fencing. His skill is abysmal.”
The wizard’s prediction, however, proved wrong. With the muscles in Giogi’s arms strengthened, his weapon suddenly felt lighter, and he wielded it with more speed and fluidity. He broke through one of Flattery’s parries and stabbed the wizard’s chest.
“One-one, Flattery,” the nobleman said. His tone was grim. He knew he could not afford to grow cocky. “Hmm,” he said, eyeing the tip of his foil as it danced before him. “Blood. Red blood. Liches don’t bleed I’m going to have to reevaluate my opinion of you. Let’s see. What bleeds and looks human but isn’t? Flesh golems or those devilish little homonculi. Are you a golem, Flattery?”
Flattery growled, beat at Giogi’s blade, and lunged for his heart. Giogi tried a stop-thrust with only partial success. His foil went harmlessly through the robe of Flattery’s sleeve while Flattery’s foil pierced Giogi’s shoulder blade.
Giogi clenched his teeth against the pain. “Flesh golems don’t get angry, but you’re awfully tall for a homonculous.”
Olive Ruskettle crept down the front hall of Flattery’s keep. Once Dorath had returned with Amber, Drone changed into a pegasus, and he and Olive had flown to Flattery’s lair. The halfling had convinced Drone to wait outside to give her time to scout out the territory. If Giogi was still alive, she would get the spur to him, and he could handle Flattery. If it was too late, then Drone was her only way off the rock, and she didn’t want him captured or killed.
She arrived at the audience hall in time to catch the last minute of Giogi’s fencing duel with Flattery. Olive stood in the doorway and watched with interest. The wizard’s fury was out of all proportion to the taunts Giogi made. Olive realized that those taunts must have some basis in truth.
The halfling moved to enter the room but found her passage blocked by an unseen barrier. As she ran her hands across the smooth surface, it crumbled at her touch like a dried sand castle or a spell that had reached its maximum duration. Within the passage of a breath, the way was clear to where Giogi mocked the increasingly furious wizard.
Unfortunately, while Flattery did grow careless in his anger, he did not grow careless enough to give Giogi the winning edge.
Then Giogi said, “You’re not a Wyvernspur. You’re an overgrown homonculous, some wizard’s imp who escaped.”
Flattery made a running charge at Giogi, missing him completely in his rage. The charge so startled Giogi that he tripped and fell over backward, losing both his foil and the finder’s stone.
The wizard loomed over Giogi, with his foil pointed at the nobleman’s throat. Flattery put a foot on Giogi’s chest and said, “I will tell you what I told your father in his dying moments, as we fell toward the earth. My father was a Wyvernspur so vile that the Harpers wiped his name from the Realms and banished him to a Limbo.”
“Nameless!” Olive cried out with excitement. “I was right! You did mean the Nameless Bard.”
Flattery whirled around, with the same look on his face he’d worn the night he’d murdered Jade and Olive had screamed at him. Olive gulped, but she stood her ground.
Giogi took advantage of the wizard’s inattention to roll away and rise to his feet.
“You!” Flattery screamed at Olive. “You freed him!”
“Me?” Olive squeaked. “No.”
“Don’t lie. I’ve heard you singing his songs. And you’re a Harper. Only Harpers knew where his prison was. I’ll find him, and with the spur I can destroy him. I can destroy his whole family.”
“But why?” Olive asked.
“Why? Look what he did to me!” Flattery demanded.
Olive stared hard at Flattery. “You look all right to me. Pretty near perfect, actually.”
Flattery screamed. “
I do not look all right. I look exactly like him. He made me that way. I don’t want to be exactly like him. I don’t want his face. I don’t want his memories. I don’t want his thoughts. I don’t want his voice, and I don’t want his songs. No one can make me say his name or sing his songs. I’ll kill him before he tries to make me sing them again.”
“Oh, my gosh,” Olive said. The realization of exactly who Flattery was dawned on her and made her tremble. “You aren’t his son. You’re the first creature he made to sing his songs, the one that got him in all the trouble with the Harpers in the first place.” Olive knew that many wizards had died in Nameless’s bizarre experiments to create living vessels for his works.
“What do you mean the first creature?” Flattery demanded.
“Well, he made another one. Woman. Very pretty. Sings like a bird,” Olive said. She kept Flattery’s attention fixed on her. Behind the wizard, Cat retrieved Giogi’s foil and returned it to him. Olive bragged, “Everyone loves the songs she sings. The songs he wrote.”
“You lie!” Flattery shouted, closing on Olive. “I will kill you and slay him with the spur. His name will never be spoken again.” His eyes wide with rage, Flattery raised a ring-bedecked hand and pointed at the halfling.
Giogi slammed into Flattery, spoiling whatever magic the wizard had intended to cast at Olive. “Stay behind me, Mistress Ruskettle,” the young noble said as the halfling scurried to his side.
“Little present from your aunt,” Olive whispered, slipping the wyvern’s spur into the top of Giogi’s boot. Giogi concentrated on the dream. From behind the nobleman’s body the halfling taunted the wizard. “You’re too late, you know, Flattery. Nameless’s true name is on everyone’s lips. Best bard in the Realms-Finder Wyvernspur.”
Flattery lunged at Giogi to get at Olive but found himself confronted with a wyvern.
Flattery leaped backward with a snarl. His foil was not likely to penetrate the wyvern’s scales, and Giogi’s transformed body was immune to his spells. Flattery might have run, but he spotted Cat picking up the finder’s stone.
