Dimwater's Demons

by Sam Ferguson

  She looked at his blue eyes, sparkling above his impish grin. Finally she nodded and jumped down beside him, making a point of not taking his hand for help. Kathair then grabbed the grate and pulled it into place.

  “What if someone locks it or something?” Kyra asked, gesturing to the grate as they ducked.

  Kathair shook his head. “Won’t happen, and if it does, then I know another way out. Come on, we have to hurry before they start.”

  “Before who starts what?” Kyra asked.

  Kathair was already hunched low and waddling through the tunnel.

  Kyra sighed and followed him.

  The light stretched for quite some way into the tunnel. Whenever it appeared to dim significantly, there would be another drain from above that would allow in more light to help them see by. Kyra noticed that none of the other drains were nearly large enough to crawl through. They were all the normal kind that appeared to be just a few inches across, nothing like the one from the laundry room.

  They made their way through a series of turns and twists, and then they emerged from the tunnel to stand in a room that was ten feet across and about fifteen feet long. Kathair moved to his left and struck a match, lighting a candle.

  Kyra’s eyes widened as she saw not only a table and chairs, but a small bookshelf, a pair of swords crossed behind a shield hanging upon a wall, and a rug made of some sort of animal hide, though it was far too large to be a bear or anything else she was aware of in the area.

  “Welcome to my sanctuary,” Kathair said.

  “I thought you said there was going to be a meeting?” Kyra said.

  Kathair nodded and moved to the bookshelf. “Right this way,” he said. He gripped the left side of the bookshelf and pivoted the thing out to the side in an arc, revealing a small doorway that led to a wooden ladder. The young swordsman motioned for her to go first. “Ladies first,” he said with a bow.

  “I’m in a dress,” Kyra pointed out.

  “Oh, right!” Kathair said as he blushed. “I’ll lead the way then.” He moved through the doorway and made his way up the ladder. Kyra followed him, a little hesitant to start climbing. The ladder went up at least two stories, and there was no way for her to know where it led.

  He was nearly at the top before she finally decided to go after him. She went up the ladder and then had to crawl into a small space at the top that led into another tunnel. There were cracks in the wall, spaces where the mortar had fallen out, that let in enough light to see by.

  Kathair turned to her and put his finger to his lips. “Nothing more than a whisper,” he cautioned.

  Kyra nodded, noting how much he looked like a rogue with the small band of light striping across his eyes. He led her around, crawling slowly through the dim tunnel until they came to a dead end. Kyra looked up and saw that Kathair was now in a crouching sit, staring through a small gap between the large stones in the wall. He pointed at the crack and motioned for her to come close and take a look.

  Kyra scooted beside him and then leaned forward until she nearly touched the stone. Through the crack she saw a rectangular room, with sconces along the far wall and a long table in the center. Wooden, high-backed chairs were situated along the table. A few people were already sitting there, their backs turned to the wall behind which Kathair and Kyra hid.

  A door on the right, bearing a large engraving of an eagle, opened, and in walked Headmaster Herion. The old wizard was dressed in a black tunic and green trousers. He moved into the room and then turned to motion to someone else.

  Kyra felt her heart nearly stop when Feberik walked through the open doorway. So far, she had avoided him for most of the summer. The very thought of their arranged marriage made her feel ill, and she had to compel herself to stay in place and not scurry back down the ladder and run away.

  “I believe you all know Master Orres,” Headmaster Herion said in his gravelly voice. “We have taken care of his initiation already, though I believe a few of you were absent for that.” Headmaster Herion turned to look at someone sitting in the chair nearest them.

  A tall man in black robes stood and nodded. “Welcome, Feberik,” the man said as he held his hand out cordially.

  “What, no insult today?” Feberik replied in his booming voice as he took the proffered hand. The man in the black robes shook his head, mumbling something about dull swordsmen, and Kyra got enough of a glimpse of his profile to know at once who it was. The man was Master Fenn, Lady Priscilla’s husband.

  For a moment, it felt like snakes were crawling through Kyra’s stomach. She hadn’t seen Master Fenn for a long time either, and seeing him now brought back the memory of throwing Lady Priscilla into a wall. Kyra closed her eyes and tried to steady her nerves. Fortunately, there was little silence, for Headmaster Herion broke it quickly.

  “Have a seat, Master Fenn,” Herion said. He then turned to Feberik and gestured to a chair further down the table. “You may sit next to Lady Arkyn.”

  Feberik nodded, the reddish-blonde streaks in his otherwise dark hair catching the light just right. He walked around the table and Kyra held her breath as he stepped closer to where she was hiding. She wasn’t able to exhale until the large man pulled out his chair and sat down.

  Headmaster Herion then moved to the head of the table. “I have called you all here to witness a mission. I sent Master Baird and Lady Stirling north, across the sea to one of the islands. I am not going to name the location, and if any of you recognize it, be sure to keep it to yourselves.”

  Headmaster Herion waved his hand and a large, purple ball of crystal descended from the ceiling. It glowed dully and sent tendrils of golden light out to steady itself as it neared the top of the table. Herion whispered a command and the ball began to glow brighter.

  “In the interest of full disclosure, I should warn you all that this may not end well. You have all heard the reports of strange beasts attacking the countryside lately, have you not?”

  A few of the individuals nodded.

  Master Fenn pointed down the table toward Feberik. “You mean the events that started occurring after the death of Feberik’s fiancé’s mother?”

  Feberik rose out of his chair and pointed right back at Master Fenn. “You’ll do well to keep your mouth shut, or I’ll close it permanently.”

  Headmaster Herion snapped his fingers and two bolts of yellow light shot out from the purple ball. One struck Master Fenn and the other hit Feberik. Kyra jumped when she heard the loud kapop that accompanied each strike.

  Master Fenn dusted his arm off in the spot where the bolt had landed upon him. “All I am saying is that we should not be harboring someone like her here.”

  Feberik stormed around from his chair and Kyra could barely breathe. His blue eyes were alight with crazy fury and his face grew red.

  Headmaster Herion slammed his fist on the table and the purple ball began to crackle and come alive with a stormy mess of golden bolts. “Sit down!” Herion ordered. He then turned to Master Fenn and pointed at him. “You keep your mouth quiet. Kyra is no different from any of the other students here.”

  “Except for the fact that she is born of a vampire,” Fenn shot back.

  Kyra blushed and looked away from the crack in the wall. She couldn’t take it anymore. She turned to leave, but a gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned to see Kathair looking at her empathetically.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. Stay, they will get onto another topic, and I think you will want to see it all.”

  Kyra nodded sorrowfully and went back to the crack, and then she looked to Kathair. She felt as though he needed an explanation. “I didn’t know I was a vampire’s daughter,” she said.

  Kathair looked to her and his brow drew in tightly as he shrugged. “What difference does it make?” he asked sincerely. “You are who you are, and I like you. That’s good enough for me.”

  Kyra sat there and smiled. Kathair turned back to the crack and continued watching.<
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  “Just,” Kathair began out of the side of his mouth, “don’t chomp on my neck or anything all right? I don’t think we could be around each other anymore if you started drinking my blood and all.”

  From anyone else, that might have cut her, but coming from Kathair, with his playful tone, it turned the negative experience into a funny moment. She stifled a laugh and backhanded him in the ribs. He jumped and then shushed her, putting on a mock-serious face and pointing toward the crack in the wall.

  Kyra looked back to the room. Headmaster Herion had regained control of the room, and the ball was glowing brighter now. The sconces flickered around the chamber.

  “As I was saying,” Herion began. “There have been many attacks lately. They point to something sinister operating in the area. This is no shadowfiend, for they normally operate alone and don’t let minions and monsters roam free for fear of being discovered. This points to something else.”

  “You said that the girl had been attacked by a shade, so it makes sense that we should see monsters operating in the area,” Lady Arkyn said in a youthful voice.

  Herion nodded. “That may be true, but I believe it to be more than that,” he said. “I believe the shade acts on behalf of another.”

  “Who?” Master Fenn asked. “What could possibly control a shade?”

  “In this case,” Herion said with a frown, “I believe it is a vampire.”

  “A vampire?” Fenn asked skeptically. “But shades don’t work with vampires.”

  Herion patted the air. “That is all too true. Normally they are territorial rivals at best. However, in this case, I believe we are dealing with a powerful and ancient vampire who somehow has gained control over a shade, as well as many other beasts. I was able to find a lead, and that is where Master Baird and Lady Stirling are headed at the moment. I thought it best we observe their mission and see what we might learn.”

  A hush fell over the chamber. The sconces flickered and then their flames died. The purple ball of crystal grew five times its size, until it was large enough that it appeared capable of swallowing Feberik.

  Kyra watched in amazement as the innermost part of the orb became clear and a scene opened up inside.

  Kyra watched through the orb, which opened up the scene behind a shorter man with dark hair and a green cloak who was facing a taller, thin woman. They were both standing upon a large ship that bobbed gently in the water. Kyra could only assume that they were Master Baird and Lady Stirling. Lady Stirling wore a dust cloak, concealing all but the end of a slender leather case under her left arm, and a series of daggers tucked into a specially fashioned belt that hung across her chest. She drew her black hood over her golden-haired head and the two quickly turned to disembark from the ship. Wherever they were, the fog covered the docks thickly and hung in the air. Rain was pouring down too. It looked gray, cold, and miserable. They didn’t speak to anyone they saw on the docks. Instead, they went straight to the first tavern they saw.

  “Figures they would head for the tavern,” Master Fenn called out.

  Headmaster Herion shot the man a look that made Kyra gulp and clench her mouth tightly shut.

  She then turned back to the images in the orb and watched as Master Baird opened the door and the two walked into the tavern.

  “Sure is a wet one,” declared a short, plump barkeep as Master Baird and Lady Stirling approached the bar. Baird slapped a pair of coins on the table.

  “Indeed it is a wet day,” Master Baird replied as he removed his rain-soaked cloak and hung it on a stool next to him.

  “This rain is most unusual for this time of year. I’ve seen only four or five such days in all my years here.”

  “An ill omen,” Lady Stirling replied.

  Master Baird turned and scanned the room. From what Kyra could see through the orb, a few patrons were inside, occupying themselves with various card or dice games and a tavern maid was busily hopping from one table to another filling and refilling mugs of ale. Apparently satisfied, Baird turned and nodded to Lady Stirling. She laid a long, leather case on the bar in front of her.

  “What’ll it be?” the barkeep asked, hardly glancing at the leather case.

  “We have not come for drink,” Master Baird replied.

  “A room then, surely you will not want to be out and about in this weather,” he offered. “The Green Door Inn is proud to offer the finest rooms at the lowest prices, and they’re clean too,” he said with a wink.

  “We are looking for someone,” Master Baird and Lady Stirling replied in unison.

  The barkeep stopped and gaped at them both for a second. It seemed to Kyra that he wasn’t sure what to make of the pair.

  “What kind of business are you about?” the barkeep said with a grin and cleaned a smudge from his spectacles.

  Master Baird shook his head sourly. “We have come on official business.”

  Lady Stirling opened one end of the leather case to reveal the hilt of a sword. She pulled it out part way and Kathair nudged Kyra.

  “That sword is Stormfang, I would recognize it anywhere.”

  “Stormfang?” Kyra asked.

  Kathair nodded. “It’s an important weapon. It belongs to the school.”

  They both looked back to the orb eagerly.

  “Ah, now that is something quite different. I apologize; you see I didn’t recognize you. We don’t get many of your kind out here.”

  Lady Stirling slid the sword back into the case and closed it again. “Surely you understand now?” she asked.

  The barkeep nodded. “I know the sword. Master Heimdal with his mighty sword, Stormfang, crushed the shadowfiends and established Kuldiga Academy over the ruins of their fortress. I know the legend.”

  “It is more than a legend,” Master Baird replied. “It is fact.”

  “Of course, sir, as you say,” the barkeep said with a reverent nod. “Look, King Mathias doesn’t actually govern this island, but, I can help you out so long as you promise to take your business outside of my inn. The last time one of your lot showed up out here, the blacksmith’s shop was burned down along with three houses. I can’t afford that kind of loss.”

  Lady Stirling nodded. “We don’t believe the person we seek is in town, but we have heard he comes in to town from time to time.”

  “The man’s name is Vincent,” Master Baird began, “and we have it on good authority that he is here on this isle. Is that so?”

  “Vincent,” the barkeep repeated and scrunched up his eyebrows as if he was concentrating real hard. “That name doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “He isn’t the sort of man that’s likely to interact with others much. Probably hardly even noticed by most folk here, I imagine,” Master Baird said. “Try to think of a man who comes in maybe once a week or every other week, keeps to himself, and just buys supplies or perhaps mills about the docks for a bit before leaving town.”

  The barkeep snapped his fingers and set the mug down. “Aye, there is a man like that who comes into town, but it’s only once a month or so. A strange sort of man he is; always keeps to himself and never says much to anyone, except to buy supplies like you say. Spends most of his time at his little cabin in the forest he does. I’ve wondered what would make a man live all alone like that as if he was hiding from something. I guess with the two of you here, that might be exactly what he is doing.”

  “Out of curiosity, ever see him during the daytime?” Lady Stirling asked.

  The barkeep shook his head. “Not usually. He comes later in the evening, and usually heads out after dark. Why, you think he is a vampire or something?” The barkeep let out a belly laugh, but once he noticed that neither Baird nor Stirling joined in his laughter, he stopped and his face grew long. “By the gods, you don’t think he is, do you? I mean, we would know, wouldn’t we?”

  “Tell us where to find his cabin,” Baird said.

  “And here are a few extra coins for your silence.”

  “Just take the main road west unti
l you come to the forest, and then head southward into the hills. You can’t miss it, but I wouldn’t go today if I were you. There isn’t enough light to get there and back today.”

  “That’s alright, we’ll find out way,” Baird said.

  “You could at least warm yourself by the fire before you go,” the barkeep offered.

  “No,” Master Baird said as he waved his hand. “It is not a cold rain outside. We’ll be fine.” He pushed the coins to the barkeep.

  The two left the tavern and traveled out from the town and southward along the main road for quite some time. Kyra had to shift her position as her feet were starting to tingle and go numb. None of the others in the special chamber said a word as they watched the purple orb intently. Even Master Fenn was quiet.

  After a while, the rain finally let up and the sun dared to peek out from behind the leaden clouds.

  Baird and Stirling stopped to shake the water from their cloaks in an effort to dry off a bit. Then, Lady Stirling waved her hand and whispered a word Kyra didn’t understand. A strange, yellow fire washed over the two of them and their clothes were entirely dry, but unharmed by the magical flames. They then walked up a hill and then down around a small outcropping of trees. No sooner had they rounded the bend than a pair of highwaymen approached from the nearby copse of trees. Master Baird and Lady Stirling stopped in place and turned to face the men.

  “If you come to rob or slay me, you will find that I am more than equal to your challenge,” Baird warned.

  “Ah, blast them with a sleeping spell and be done with it,” Master Fenn called out.

  Headmaster Herion held his hand up, calling for silence.

  The two highwaymen looked to each other and laughed.

  “How about it, a bit of sport before supper?” one of them said to the other.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” said the other. The both of them drew swords.

  Master Baird turned to Lady Stirling who opened the leather case to retrieve Stormfang. He then turned to the two bandits. “Well, let’s get this over with, I have a meeting that I am late for.”