Gordan of Riss and the Malformed Sprite (A Madcap Fantasy Adventure Book 1)

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Gordan of Riss and the Malformed Sprite (A Madcap Fantasy Adventure Book 1) Page 11

by Ryan Drake


  “Who, us? We were just looking for the kitchen and lost our way,” I said, trying out my grin once more even though I was still clutching the grass.

  It nearly worked. The pike wavered a little and I started to think that maybe we’d get out of this. After all, we didn’t exactly look like advance scouts of an invading aerial army or anything. We probably didn’t even look dangerous. We were, as far as the orc could tell, a mismatched little group comprising one male mostly human, one female part orc, and one pixie who was probably still slightly tipsy. We weren’t even carrying any weapons other than the knife and the crossbow I’d taken from Thork Yurger. And the crossbow had no bolts.

  If anything, we probably just looked a little tired.

  Unfortunately, the pixie dust hadn’t worn off. There was a reason I’d been hanging on to the grass. We’d started floating again as soon as we’d reached the top. Even though both Gabby and I still held onto handfuls of grass, our legs continued to drift upwards in an awkward way.

  It confused the orc even more. “What you doin’?” he asked, then apparently decided he didn’t need an answer. The wavering pike steadied and his expression hardened. “You come with me!” he said.

  18

  In the Shadow’s Dungeon

  I’d seen the inside of a number of dungeons in my short but adventurous life, and the Shadow’s was far from the worst. Sure, it was a cold stone room at the base of one of the towers, grimy from lack of use and decorated with an assortment of chains and manacles. It probably even contained its fair share of rats and other vermin, although I’d yet to see much evidence of that. But it also had a window (barred, of course) with one of the best views I’d ever seen.

  The particular tower the dungeon was in was on the very edge of the Demesne. The window opened up not onto the Demesne, but over the abyss, allowing me to see great swaths of the land we were drifting above. Ulm would be down there somewhere, although I couldn’t see it. As would the orcs that had chased us, the goblins that had nearly killed me, Thork Yurger (if he still lived) and whatever guardsmen remained.

  Seeing the land from such a vantage had been an ambition I’d never really hoped to be able to fulfill, and here I was, soaking it all up.

  I felt like the Shadow himself. Except that we were stuck in a dungeon with manacles around our ankles (even Max; his chain was comparatively tiny, but still strong enough to prevent any escape).

  We’d been marched (although “floated” might have been a better description) here by the orc who had found us, and nothing we’d said had dissuaded him from the task. He’d chained Max because the bars were spaced widely enough that the pixie would have been able to slip through without any problems, and then turned to Gabby and me.

  “Don’t know why you fly. Or what else you might do. Chains will hold you,” he said with certainty. Then he’d chained us and left us alone.

  “Now what?” asked Max.

  But I didn’t have any answer.

  “Now we wait here until something happens,” said Gabby with a sigh.

  She was right, I thought. There wasn’t much else to do.

  The power of the pixie dust slowly faded until we regained our normal weight. An orc brought us food and water. We sat, ate, watched the land pass below us, and waited.

  As the sun started to cast long shadows over the land below, Gabby broke the silence and asked me, “Is it always like this with you?” She’d found herself a corner and sat with her back to the wall.

  “Like what?” I turned away from the view towards her.

  “Fighting for your life. Getting stuck in cages or dungeons. Moving from one mad adventure to the next.” She shrugged. “All the craziness.”

  I didn’t quite know what she meant. “Craziness?”

  “Like using pixie dust to escape from one band of orcs only to be caught by the Shadow’s guards. Like thinking the Demesne might be a good place to go. That sort of thing.”

  It was my turn to shrug. “Sometimes. Not always, though. Sometimes I’ll go a few days or even as much as a week without finding some sort of trouble. Why?”

  “How do you live like that?”

  “What choice do I have?”

  “You could just stop.”

  I thought about that for a moment. “I’m not sure I could. I’ve wondered what it must be like for the street merchants or tavern keepers and such. I can’t help but think their lives must be safe and peaceful compared to mine, and I wonder if I could ever do it. But the thing is, it’s not like I want to be fighting for my life all the time. It just sort of happens. Like, I didn’t ask to be attacked by the goblins. Or the guardsmen, or Thork Yurger, or the orcs. Or you. Sure, I’d caused a bit of trouble back in Ulm, but I do that all the time and mostly, nothing much comes of it. But every now and then it gets out of hand.”

  “So why do you do it?”

  “Why do you tell fortunes? Why does Max drink? Why do orcs fight?” It was my turn to shrug. “I just do. For fun, mostly, and to keep me distracted.”

  “Distracted from what?”

  I looked at her seriously. “I’ve been searching for answers my entire life. About myself. I’ve been tracking down rumors and hints and possibilities, looking for anything that might help. Most of the time whatever I’m chasing leads to nothing, and if I thought about that too much I don’t know what I’d do. Just give up, I guess. But I really don’t want to do that. So I make the search itself as enjoyable as I can.”

  It was about as honest as I’d ever been. I don’t know why I told her so much. Maybe it was because of all the things we’d been through. Maybe it was because I owed her so much, and just at that moment it didn’t look as if I’d ever be able to repay her. I’d never been in the Shadow’s dungeon before and I didn’t know if there would be a way out.

  Maybe it was simply that I liked her, and wanted her to like me back.

  She held my eye for a long moment, then looked away. “Well, I don’t know if it’ll be of any use, but you might like to know that you’re getting closer to one of those possibilities you’re after.”

  “Huh?” I said.

  “The Fracture. It was seen not long ago near the outskirts of a village called Brelor, in the foothills near the Western Mountains. We’re heading that way. The Demesne is, anyway. We should be over top of it sometime tomorrow.”

  “Thank you,” I said. I didn’t know if I would ever be able to use the information, but I appreciated that she told me. Perhaps all was not lost with Gabby. So thinking, I sat myself down beside her and placed my hand companionably on her knee.

  She didn’t look at me. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said. “I’m still mad at you for getting me into this.”

  Despite her words, I felt I had cause for hope. The implication was clear: I could get as many ideas as I liked once she was over her anger.

  Nevertheless, I took my hand away. When I did, I heard Max chuckle out loud from his place on the windowsill. I promised myself that I would have to do something truly horrible to my winged little friend. If we ever got out of there.

  It grew darker. I was starting to think that whoever’s problem we were intended to wait until tomorrow before doing anything about us. Then the flickering light of a torch appeared, accompanied by the heavy tread of an orc.

  In moments I saw that it wasn’t just a single orc, but perhaps half a dozen. Each of them was huge, bulging and bedecked in armor that could well have been solid gold. They strode directly to the bars of the dungeon, then parted to allow a very old man through. That one approached, leaning on a cane, and looked us up and down before turning to one of the orcs.

  “I thought you said they were floating,” he said in a high-pitched voice that was still strong despite his age.

  “They were,” rumbled the orc.

  “Well, they don’t seem to be now. You there!” the man said, looking at me. “What’s the story? Can you fly or not?”

  I stood and moved
closer to him. As if expecting some kind of attack, the orcs assumed a more threatening stance. Even though I had been thinking about somehow holding the man to ransom, I raised my hands in a placating gesture as if I’d never do anything of the sort. I took a moment to study him. He was shorter than me by a foot or more, plump and mostly bald. The lines etched into his face suggested that a smile was his expression of choice and simplicity was his nature.

  “Nope,” I said. “My friend Max can fly, but Gabby and I can’t. Can you?”

  He smiled at me. As expected, it was an open, simple smile, completely unlike my own regular knowing grin and almost entirely lacking in teeth. “Interesting,” he said. “You’re not quite human are you? Is that how you flew?”

  Gabby chose that moment to join me at the bars. Because she was looking at me rather than our new friend, she failed to notice the way his eyes lit up when she came more fully into the light cast by the torch.

  “My name isn’t Gabby. It’s Gabriella, and I would very much appreciate it if you could try to remember,” she said. Then she turned to our friend. “Normally, neither of us can fly, but Maximus—that’s him on the windowsill—sprinkled us with pixie dust to help us escape from … some trouble. And this is where we ended up.”

  “Pixie dust?” the oldster replied. It was hard to know if he was genuinely interested or if his pleasant, affable nature hid a profound disappointment. “I’ve often wondered what exactly pixie dust is,” he said, and I thought that was an excellent question. I considered echoing it to Max, but the man was still talking. “And you, my lovely Gabriella. You’re not entirely human either, are you?”

  She shook her head but didn’t answer directly.

  “What a fascinating trio you are. Tell you what, why don’t you join me for dinner and tell me your story?”

  Perhaps we wouldn’t be trapped here for long after all, I thought. But my hopes were dashed.

  “All of us?” asked Gabby.

  “No, I think not, at least not at the moment. This one has the look of trouble about him, and I like to keep my table peaceful, if I can. And pixies … well, let’s just say I can do without my guests getting wildly drunk and flying about crashing into things. Just you and me, I think.”

  I really had to do something about that ‘look of trouble’, I thought.

  “And exactly who are you?” asked Gabby.

  “Oh! I’m so very sorry, where are my manners? My name is Timmy. Timmy Te’Longolanema. But that’s a bit of a mouthful, so Timmy will do nicely. Unless you want to call me the Shadow.”

  “You’re the Shadow?” I asked. I couldn’t help myself.

  “Yes.”

  “But-but you’re….” I couldn’t finish.

  “What? Old? I don’t look like I should? You don’t really believe all those stories about me, do you? That I eat babies for breakfast, can turn myself into a fire-breathing giant and have held back the ravages of age and disease for more than a dozen centuries?” His old eyes twinkled mischievously and I felt kind of foolish.

  “Well, no,” I muttered.

  “Maybe you should,” he said. “Some of them are even true. Come, my lovely, dinner is waiting.” And with that, he whisked Gabby out of the dungeon and strode away as if he was eight feet tall and in the prime of his life.

  I watched them go, feeling unaccountably somber. When there was nothing but darkness, I turned to Max. “What is pixie dust, exactly?” I asked.

  “Remains,” he muttered.

  “Remains?”

  “Yeah. Bones of me ancestors and suchlike. Ground up into dust.”

  Oh, I thought.

  That explained why he’d been so reluctant to use it.

  19

  Zip Line

  Max was snoring softly on the windowsill. I would have liked to be blissfully unaware of this fact, because being aware of it meant that he had somehow managed to find enough comfort in this cold, dark dungeon to fall asleep, whereas I had not. I would have liked very much to have been snoring myself and keeping him awake, rather than the other way around.

  “Will you be quiet?!” I said, but not really loudly enough to wake him.

  If I wanted to be honest, I would have acknowledged that being unaware of Max’s snoring was the least of my list of wants. I would have also liked to be able to stop shivering. I would have liked to not be in the dungeon. I would have liked to be back on solid ground. I would also have liked to be rich, with a complete understanding of where I came from and who I was, and while I was at it, I would have liked to be the ruler of all of the land.

  I would also have liked it if I was with Gabby.

  But that last, it seemed, was not to be. At least tonight. She hadn’t returned from her dinner with the Shadow.

  What was she doing? I wondered. Were they still awake, munching (or gumming, as the case might be for him) some sort of flavorsome after-dinner treat and talking? If so, what were they saying? Would the Shadow return her here once he was done with conversation? Or would that gleam in his eye as he saw her lead to something else, perhaps?

  Like to bed?

  No way, I told myself. Surely he was much too old for that sort of behavior. But then, he was the Shadow, and the stories about him included those of unending virility….

  I shifted uncomfortably on the cold stone floor, rattling my chains and doing what I could to get that image out of my head. Not Gabby, I thought. No way. And yet, what did I really know?

  To distract myself from this thought, I wondered if I would ever see her again, or if it was my fate to stay here until I rotted away into nothing.

  “Would you please stop your snoring!” This time I said it loudly enough to wake him.

  “Huh? Wassat? Watcha talkin’ about? I don’ snore.”

  “Well, you’re certainly doing a very fine impression of it then.”

  “Yeh’re imaginin’ it. Hush up now an’ lemme sleep.” He rolled over and in moments he was snoring again.

  I spent most of the night like that. Thinking and worrying about Gabby, yelling at Max from time to time, and maybe dozing a little. It was a long, cold, slow night, but at least I wasn’t in any danger of getting beaten up or killed, and that made an almost pleasant change.

  Eventually, as it tended to do about once a day, the sun rose again. I considered moving over to the window, but didn’t think even the truly spectacular view offered would be enough to take my mind off my troubles. But then Gabby returned, flanked by a couple of orcs.

  “Gabby!” I said, bouncing to my feet as if I’d never known tiredness in my life. “I was worried about you. Where have you been? What happened?”

  I took a moment to study her and realized there was something different. Then I understood. She was clean. The dirt and grime that had built up during the course of our little adventures had all been washed away, her hair was newly combed and she smelled awfully good to a guy who’d been stuck in a dungeon with a snoring pixie all night. Probably she would have smelled awfully good even to a guy who hadn’t been stuck in a dungeon with a snoring pixie all night, but about that I was in no position to tell.

  “You look fantastic!” I said without even thinking.

  Amazingly, she blushed a little. Then she reverted to her old self. Almost. “Don’t call me … oh, never mind. Thank you. But we don’t really have time for questions. I’ve come to get you out of here.”

  “Really? How?”

  “Let’s just say that I explained to Timmy that we weren’t here with any ill intentions towards him or his Demesne, he believed me and now he’s letting you go.” She didn’t look at me as she said it and I felt she was hiding something. But I didn’t get the chance to pursue it as she’d already turned to one of the orcs. “If you don’t mind?”

  The orc in question might have been the same one that had captured us initially, but then I’ve never been all that good at telling one big bluish bulging brute from another. Anyway, he unlocked the door an
d unchained both me and Max.

  “Just like that?” I asked.

  Gabby smiled. “Just like that.”

  Max buzzed into the air and said, “Feels good to be free, don’t it?”

  I had to agree. I left that dungeon without a backwards glance and walked up to Gabby in the corridor, with Max buzzing along beside me. But then I paused. “Now what?”

  “Now we get you off this floating mountain and back to your quest for the Fracture.”

  “We get off? How?”

  “You’ll see. But you have to hurry.”

  Together with Gabby and the orcs (who seemed content to accompany us but made no move to intervene in anything we did), Max and I strode past the various buildings that formed the Shadow’s palace. The part of me that realized Gabby hadn’t really answered any of my questions wanted to ask them again, but the rest of me was like a pixie in an ale house. Everything about this place promised marvels and I couldn’t help but strain my neck this way and that just to catch a glimpse of the fine stonework that made up the buildings, the sculptures of marble and bronze (or were they gold?) and even the way the gardens had been lovingly cajoled into growing in just the right way.

  Sure, we’d passed some of this yesterday, but the thing about being marched to a dungeon by an orc who wouldn’t think twice about wrapping your innards around the business end of a pike is that it puts a serious dent in your aesthetic appreciation, especially if you’re also still dealing with the remnants of pixie dust upsetting your status quo.

  This time, I had the leisure of not having to worry about such things, so I ogled as much as I wanted, wondering all the while if I couldn’t just sneak off for a moment to bag myself a few precious ornaments or jewels that the Shadow would never miss. Maybe one day, I thought, I’d come back to do exactly that.

  But not today. Today was all about getting off the Demesne, and getting back to finding the Fracture. So I followed Gabby and the orcs to wherever they were taking me. Us. Because Max was there as well, alternately buzzing happily along or riding on my shoulder.

 

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