by Jack Heckel
I held up my hands in a gesture of peace. “I will come with you, but my companions had no part in my deception. Let them stay behind.”
“Avery, no,” Sam called out, but he was the only one.
“It’s okay,” I said, turning to give him my best smile. “I’m sure the Master and I can work this out. Get us lodging at one of those dragon inns. I’ll catch up later.”
The guards’ expression didn’t change. “Come,” they uttered.
I went.
I glanced back to see the rest of the company staring after me. Their faces were somber, almost funereal. Oddly, I did not share their fear; instead, I was angry. I had to know why the Master of Dungeons, someone I’d created to be a guide for the original Heroes, someone that was supposed to be a good guy, was using Dark Lord golems to guard his town.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” I said to no one in particular.
The golems led me to the door, but remained outside as I entered. The Master of Dungeons was still at his table, but he’d moved his screen to one side. He sat calmly, hands folded in front of him, a smile on his face. But this was not the calm, cheerful smile of my last visit. This one was cruel and calculating.
“Greetings, Wizard Avery. It seems that we have a problem,” he said cheerily.
I walked over to the creepy little man and dropped the coins, clattering, onto the table in front of him. “Here’s your money, Master. Count it if you’d like, but it’s more than enough.”
He didn’t even glance at the money. “Yes, certainly. I believe that should be sufficient to reinstate the license. The other members of your company are released to continue their journeys and adventures, and even to stay here in Hamlet if they choose.” He waved a hand absentmindedly, and I knew that it was done. “But what do I do about you?”
Here it came. Whatever the Master wanted, it wasn’t money. I decided to play innocent. “What do you mean?”
“You have violated the rules, Wizard Avery. This isn’t something I am allowed to take lightly. If everyone violated the rules, then where would we be?” He tilted his head and spread his hands wide at the possible implications. “There would be mayhem, groups fighting each other instead of monsters, new parties being ambushed on their way out of the gates . . .”
I was tired of whatever game he was playing. “Can you get to the point?” I sighed.
The Master raised his eyebrows. “Very well. You know better than most what happens to those who violate the rules. I’m afraid that you’ll have to suffer the penalties. You have tied my hands.”
The stress on each “you” sent chills along my spine. With sudden clarity, I understood that the Master knew who I really was. I didn’t know how; perhaps he recognized the feel of the spell I’d cast in the mines. In the end, it didn’t really matter, because the question wasn’t how he knew, but what he was going to do with the knowledge. By obtaining a license and entering the mines, I had placed myself directly under his control. The Master would know this. He had been created to understand the rules of this world with precision. I’m not sure I breathed, but I am sure that I turned several shades whiter.
His smile disappeared. “Let us play no more games, Wizard Avery, or would you prefer Magus Avery? That is the proper title for your kind, is it not? I presume you have returned to fight the Dark Queen, just as you intervened to help defeat the Dark Lord.”
I relaxed a little. At least he didn’t know I was the Dark Lord.
He stood and faced me across the table. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognize my creator when in his presence? I am not some mindless golem. You created me to have great power and intellect, and that has consequences. Unfortunately, you also constrained me with limitations on my power that have confined me to this dreadful place. I have chaffed beneath your restrictions for years, and I have been waiting and hoping for this day almost from the moment of my creation. I was surprised that you would place yourself under my control for so small a prize as the Mines of Maria. But here we are, and you are under my control.”
He gestured with one hand and my throat tightened until I could barely breathe. “What do you want?” I choked.
“I want what everyone wants,” he answered in a toneless voice. “To control my own destiny.”
I clasped my hands to the table to stop them from shaking and gasped, “I can’t.” Nor was I lying. I’d used the reality key to create him and the golems and all the other horrors that surrounded the Dark Lord.
“Oh, I know that, Magus Avery,” the Master said, and he smiled at me with that cruel, clever smile. “The power that created me has been passed to another. It is she I will be dealing with. I have already made my bargain with her. Her servants are nearby and will be coming soon to retrieve you. Until then I am allowed to entertain myself as I wish.”
He tightened the grip and the edges of my vision began to darken. In desperation, I formed the spell of return in my head and tried to gather enough power to activate it, but the magic kept slipping away. It was impossible to focus while fighting for breath. As my consciousness faded, strange thoughts raced through my mind. All I had wanted was to save one subworld from extinction. What had I accomplished? Look at the misery I’d created for Drake and Valdara, at the golems patrolling the local villages, at the Master plotting with the Dark Queen. The irony was too rich. Someone was laughing hysterically. I was alarmed to find that it was me.
I was on the edge of passing out when there was a loud bang from the doors behind me. I heard Ariella shout, “Release him! We have a violation of the rules to discuss with you.”
The Master cleared his throat; I still hovered, caught in the grasp of his power, a few inches above the floor. “Come back later. This is a private matter between Wizard Avery and myself.”
“But the rules violation relates specifically to the license you issued to Wizard Avery and the Company of the Fellowship,” she replied with a steely resolve I had never associated with her before.
“Guards!” the Master called out.
“Oh, they won’t be responding,” Valdara said grimly.
“You . . . you defeated the golems?” he asked, for the first time showing some uncertainty.
“More or less,” Rook grunted.
“We filed a formal protest with the town council,” Ariella said briskly. “They felt there was enough merit in my complaint to grant us this hearing. They also instructed the town guards to make no attempts to bar our access to you.”
“In fact,” said a voice I didn’t recognize, “we have taken a direct interest in this matter, Master. A very serious breach of your ethical duties has been alleged.”
“Fine,” the Master said between clenched teeth. “It appears that I must consider your protest.” He snapped his fingers and I felt the grasp of power release. I fell to my hands and knees choking and sputtering. The Master sat down and drew his screen in front of his face. “State your case, and be quick about it.”
I managed to rise to my knees as Ariella approached the table and laid a piece of paper on it. “I am submitting this original copy of License 05309 for this tribunal’s attention.” The Master waved a weary hand for her to continue. “Do you, Master of the Dungeons, acknowledge that you sold License 05309 granting access to the Mines of Maria to Wizard Avery?”
“Yes, of course!” barked the Master. “And let me remind everyone that he—” at this point, he pointed directly at me “—paid for his license, and many other items from our local merchants, with gold that by his own admission was conjured, and which fades mere hours after its creation. As such, he threatened the stability of the Village of Hamlet. While post-violation compensation has been made, and accepted in the case of his less culpable companions, we have determined that further punitive consequences are in order.”
“Don’t you think killing him is a little drastic?” came a woman’s voice.
I had regained enough of my wits to look about, and I saw that in addition to the entire Company of the Fel
lowship, three elderly citizens of Hamlet were also audience to my hearing. It was one of these, a thin, gray-haired woman with a determined look in her eyes, that addressed the Master now.
The little man banged his hand on the table, knocking his screen over and revealing mounds of paper, several bottles of drink, plates of food, and innumerable models of gelatinous polygons. He hastily set it back up and then pointed an accusing finger around the room. “We cannot have adventurers undermining the lifeblood of the town. If they do, the entire basis of our economy will suffer. No one will stay at the inns. Life insurance policies and final will and testament writing will suffer. Not to mention the markups that we make outsiders pay on food and supplies . . .” His voice trailed off.
He cleared his throat. “Anyway, this is beyond the purvey of the town council. This is a violation of the rules of the dungeons. According to my mandate—” he held up a battered scroll that I recognized at once as the one on which I’d written my original parameters for the Master “—I have absolute power over any and all adventurers that purchase a bona fide license to a dungeon or other adventure under my control.”
“Aha!” said Ariella, raising a hand in the air. “I object.”
“What?” gasped the Master.
“Did you or did you not say that you have power only over those individuals that purchase a bona fide license?”
“I did,” he said with a shrug. I wasn’t sure where she was going with this argument either.
“Do the Mines of Maria have any connection to the mystical weapon called Justice Cleaver?” Ariella asked casually.
“Of course not,” he said dismissively, “but I don’t see the relevance—”
She interrupted his explanation with a curt, “Do you know where Justice Cleaver lies?”
The Master’s eyes glittered dangerously as he answered. “Of course I do. I am the Master of Dungeons. Justice Cleaver lies in the Tomb of Terrors, and is guarded over by the dread semi-lich. Again, I question the relevance of this line of inquiry.”
Behind her the council members shuffled nervously. Ariella herself seem nonplussed as she asked, “Do you recall the day that Wizard Avery purchased License 05309?”
“Yes, of course,” the Master growled. “It was less than a week ago. How long must I put up with these irrelevant questions?”
“We would beg you to hurry,” pleaded one of the town council, a short, fat man who was sweating profusely. “The Master is very busy.”
Ariella nodded graciously. “I am almost there, esteemed council member.” The fact that he’d been called “esteemed” seemed to mollify the councilman considerably. She turned back to the Master. “Do you recall what Wizard Avery asked when you offered him the license to the Mines of Maria?”
The Master thought for a moment and his eyes grew wide. He licked his lips nervously. “Well . . .” he began.
Ariella gave him no room for maneuvering. She leaned forward. “Did he or did he not specifically ask you whether the Mines of Maria were ‘connected in any way with the mystical weapon Justice Cleaver’?”
“I . . . I don’t . . .” the Master spluttered.
“Answer the question!”
“Yes! Yes, he did!” the Master shouted, his face growing red and flushed.
“And did you not specifically tell him that the ‘mines would serve his purposes’?”
“Yes,” he said more quietly, and his arms dropped to his sides.
Ariella turned back to face the town council. “I submit to this body that License 05309 was offered under false pretenses and so the sale was null and void at the moment of the offer. That Wizard Avery purchased the fraudulent license with conjured gold is entirely beside the point, because the entire transaction was void ab initio, in accordance with laws long established in El Drin’s Guide to Universal Constants.” She dropped a long sheet of velum on the table that was filled with line after line of her inordinately neat script. “I’ve written up a summary of my arguments. Oh, and I’ve included a recital of my personal background. I was raised by elves and there are a number of tragedies and unusual coincidences and circumstances in my childhood that I would like to place in the official record. I’ve indexed a list of encounters with monsters and portents in the back. I assure you that you will find everything in order.”
The Master looked up with an empty expression. “What manner of elf are you?”
“Among other things,” she answered with an upturned chin, “I’m a rules lawyer.”
His expression darkened and he waved his hand again. I felt his power lift from me. “The case is dismissed. Wizard Avery is free to go.”
There was a roar of joy from my group. Ariella had done it. In that moment I regretted all the disparaging things that I had thought about her, from my annoyance at her poetry to the tedium with which she insisted on mapping everything to her overly elaborate life story. I was still contemplating the wonder that was this elven woman when many hands gripped my body and began carrying me from the room.
We were at the door when the Master called from behind us. “Before you leave, would you like to know who, or should I say, what you just saved?”
He was smiling again; his preternatural calm had returned, but now the insanity beneath it was exposed. The effect was ghastly.
“Shall I tell them, Magus Avery? If I don’t, you know that the Dark Queen will, if your pets survive long enough to meet her. I think it would be a kindness to let them know now so they can decide for themselves whether they wish to continue their “Fellowship” with you. He stared at me coldly.
There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone looked back and forth between me and the Master. Rook was the one that broke the tension. “No thanks, laddie,” he growled, and spat on the floor. “Oh, and we want a refund.”
He marched to the table, scooped the coins I’d dumped there into his pouch, and walked back out the door. Without a word, the rest of the company fell into order (marching order) behind him.
Chapter 23
HELLO, MY NAME IS AVERY . . .
Our feel-good unity lasted until we got out of sight of Hamlet. We were barely two leagues down the southern road that would take us to the temple when Valdara, who had been silently leading since our departure, reined to halt and spun her horse about to face the rest of the group.
“Before we go any further, I want to know the answer to the Master’s question. What are you, Avery?” she asked, folding her arms.
No word was spoken, but the others spread out in lines on either side of Valdara so that I was alone, facing them all.
“I am not sure what to say,” I answered honestly.
“Why don’t you start with the truth?” Valdara suggested.
I know she didn’t mean the remark to be helpful, but I doubt she realized how unhelpful it was. I was fairly convinced that telling them the whole truth about my history with their world, including the part about me being the Dark Lord, would be fatal. A conclusion I had come to repeatedly over the last weeks. And for as much as I had grown attached to the members of the company, I was still not keen on dying for them, or at least not at their hands. A partial truth would have to do.
“I am a wizard . . .” I began, but was immediately interrupted by Sam. “Not one with powers like I’ve ever seen before.”
I cleared my throat and said, “Correct, Sam. What I should have said, is that I am a wizard from another world, one beyond the confines of your reality. There we are called magi. I have been sent here to help the people of your world defeat the Dark Queen. This is why my powers operate in such an unusual way, and it is also why I am so focused on our getting to the Dark Queen.”
I expected some kind of a reaction to this announcement—gasps of alarm, shouts of outrage—but that wasn’t what I got. Instead, Rook rasped, “That makes sense.” The others nodded their agreement.
Drake raised his eyebrows and said, “It does explain a lot, kid. Like how you recognized me as St. Drake straight-away. I’d
been perfecting my drunk reprobate for months.”
“So that was an act?” asked Ariella.
“No,” he said, “but there’s always room to improve.”
Drake’s comment seemed to lighten the mood, and soon everyone started chattering to each other about quirks of mine that had given them clues that I was different, and when they’d figured it out. Seamus and Luke talked endlessly about how clueless I was about the most basic of things, like the importance of establishing a marching order and having a ten-foot pole when you go questing. Sam and Ariella spoke avidly about the strange spells I cast. Rook just kept looking at me, stroking his beard, and chuckling to himself.
Only Valdara was silent. She sat, staring at me with those piercing eyes until I could no longer meet her gaze. She let the group banter for a few minutes and then put two fingers in her mouth and let loose with a piercing whistle. In the silence that descended she asked, “Why?”
Thankfully, Rook answered for me. “Why not?”
She turned her gaze on the dwarf and frowned. “I can think of any number of reasons why not. It is harder for me to understand why a magus that can travel to any world he chooses would choose to come to our world.”
“Maybe there aren’t that many worlds,” Sam suggested.
“Or maybe our world is special,” Ariella added brightly.
Valdara dismissed both answers with a derisive snort. “If that were the case,” she countered, “then why would they only send Avery to save us?” She walked her horse forward toward me. “Why not send a whole army of magi to make sure of the Dark Queen’s defeat? And why involve . . . what did the Master call us . . . pets in their battle against the Dark Queen? Surely, we are vastly inferior to the warriors such a powerful race could employ. And why send a magus now? Why wasn’t one on hand when we were fighting the Dark Lord?”
The volume and cadence of her questioning had increased as she moved closer. Now that she was directly in front of me, her voice dropped to a murmur only I could hear. “Or was there a magus here when the Dark Lord reigned?”
