Legends of Windemere: 03 - Family of the Tri-Rune

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “Swallow the dagger,” Sari insists, walking toward the bed and placing her warm hand on his. She feels him resist her when she tries to push the dagger toward his mouth. “You know doing this will maim or even kill you, so you’re not my Kayn.”

  “I am Kayn!” he shouts, his eyes locked on the hot dagger. “I used a magic dagger for the trick. It had a cooling enchantment on it that activated when I exhaled warm air on it. Even though it glowed, the dagger lost all heat before the tip ever entered my mouth. Everything else was sleight of hand and years of training as a sword swallower. For the gods’ sake, Sari, get this dagger away from my face!”

  Sari stares into Kayn’s wide eyes and cracks an evil grin. “That’s just what a doppelganger would say. This is the only test I have to prove you’re who you say you are, so we have to move quickly before the dagger cools. Open up.”

  “Stop it, Sari!” Kayn screams, his panicked voice echoing throughout the cavern. “You purr in your sleep after sex. Your favorite type of cake is chocolate raspberry rum. There’s a ticklish spot just below your left ear, but it only works when you’re sleepy. When you were ten, you cut your foot on a broken bottle in Gaia and you were sick for six days because of an infection. You can hold your breath underwater for three minutes, but only for thirty seconds when you’re out of the water. The first time we met was when you were five and tried to steal a pony that I had already stolen. Your favorite card game is dwarven rummy because you firmly believe that drinking rum is part of the game. The first night we were partners, you ate and drank too much, so we didn’t do anything until our second night together even though we convinced the rest of the clan we were at it all night because neither of us wanted to get out of bed. Put the dagger down, Sari!”

  Sari gently takes the dagger away from Kayn, tossing it onto a dresser where it hisses against the wood. She gets up to leans against a chestnut wardrobe and breaks into an unstoppable fit of sobbing. Tears stream down her cheeks, so she quickly pushes her hair in front of her face to block Kayn’s view. He can still hear her sniffling and whimpering behind the blue curtain as he silently slips out of the bed. Cautiously, he moves in to give her a tight, comforting hug. He is so focused on Sari’s crying that he is unable to avoid the numbing slap to his face.

  “Drinking rum is the best part of the game and you know it,” Sari whispers as Kayn embraces her. She wraps her arms around his waist and presses her face against his shoulder, her hair tickling his nose. “Why didn’t you try to find me?”

  “I had no idea you were alive,” Kayn replies, enjoying the familiar feel of her body against his. He takes a deep breath of her scent, which brings tears of joy to his eyes. “All I could think about was revenge, but I needed the right tools to do so. I tracked both of the items that I need to Hero’s Gate. So, I replaced the new guild’s founder and began using the thieves to gather resources and information.” Kayn tenderly brushes Sari’s hair out of her face in order to stare into her perfect eyes. “I would have tracked you down if I had known you were still alive, Sari. Then we could get our revenge together.”

  “We can still do that,” Sari claims, kissing at Kayn’s neck and gradually pushing him onto the bed. “I can get you whatever you want. I was always a better thief while you were a better warrior, which is why we made such a great team.”

  “Like you and the Callindor?” Kayn asks, unable to hide his jealousy and bitterness.

  Sari pulls away from Kayn and sits in the middle of the soft bed. She tucks her legs underneath her while fidgeting with the bodysuit’s clasps. Kayn joins her and reaches out to touch her knee, expecting her to push him away. Instead, she pitches forward and rolls her body onto his, easily pinning him beneath her.

  “Luke and I have a relationship, but it’s not a physical one. We kissed once . . . maybe twice, but the second time we were really drunk,” Sari softly explains, her knees keeping Kayn’s arms from moving. “Luke and I were very lonely when we met. I had just lost you and he was far away from his fiancée, who hails from Bor’daruk. You know what that means, so you can see why a relationship with Luke was able to blossom. Besides, he was so kind and warm to me when I needed a friend. He protected and cherished me like you did, but without the intimacy.”

  “I sense that there was some intimacy,” Kayn coldly interrupts. “At least, there was an emotional intimacy.”

  “I should tell you everything that has happened to me since the attack. I promise to keep it brief,” Sari says, making herself comfortable on Kayn’s chest. “I was captured and brought to a vampire named Kalam by a chaos elf named Trinity. Kalam made me his servant, but Trinity made sure he never fed off me. Eventually, Nyx and Luke broke into Kalam’s lair and rescued me. They took me with them to Haven where I helped protect Luke’s hometown from Kalam and a Sword Dragon. After we destroyed Kalam, another necrocaster appeared and merged Luke with the deceased Sword Dragon. I had to cast a love spell on Luke and kiss him to give him enough strength to overpower the spirit of the dragon. A few days later, we were having fun during a celebration and I got emotional before running into the forest. Luke followed, we talked, we passionately kissed in the heat of the moment, and Nyx interrupted us to say she was happy to see the two of us smile again. I swear I wouldn’t have kissed Luke if I knew you were still alive.”

  “That’s good to know, but you should stay with him,” Kayn tells Sari. He hooks his legs under her arms and flips her off him. He sighs when she braces her hands against the floor and springs back onto the bed. “I would prefer you find happiness than follow me into darkness, Sari. Your spirit is too pure to be consumed by revenge, so please stay with someone who will love you like I did. I’m afraid I’ve become too damaged to hold any future for you.”

  “You really want me to stab you,” Sari angrily says, pulling a stiletto from her boot and tracing it along Kayn’s cheek. “You and I are partners, so I will work with you to avenge our clan no matter what it costs me. I can break off my relationship with Luke and we can go after whatever you need.”

  Kayn sits up, ignoring the touch of Sari’s stiletto on his skin. He slips off the bed and uses the back of his hand to wipe the thin line of blood off his cheek. Lost in his own thoughts, Kayn paces around the room. Occasionally, he casts a glance at Sari, who is curled up in a ball on the bed, her face buried under her hair. He gently strokes one of his paintings, which shows a demonic warrior being defeated by a blue-armored knight.

  “I want you to be happy, Sari, so we both have to acknowledge that our clan is dead. All oaths and partnerships we swore by have been broken, except for our oath to avenge our murdered kin,” Kayn calmly explains. He turns back to Sari and sits by her head to stroke her hair. “My path will take me into a world that no gypsy can hope to survive without becoming an abomination. You’ve already seen me murder and threaten without a second thought. Why would you want to stay with a man like me?”

  “Both of us are damaged, Kayn,” Sari answers, her voice magically emerging from the shadows instead of her mouth. “You’ve been infected by rage while I’ve been devoured by fear. I can’t sleep by myself without having paralyzing nightmares. We need each other to get through this and return to our natural state.”

  Kayn gently rolls Sari onto her back and kisses her on the lips before whispering in her ear, “I can already see you’re healing. Whether you realize it or not, you have created a new clan. I’ve been watching you since you arrived in Hero’s Gate. You smile and laugh and drink and dance like you did when we were together. All of this is in spite of you having lost your clan. It’s because of your friends that your wounds have healed and the scars are fading away. I want you to become the Sari that I fell in love with and spread the warmth that thrived within our people.”

  “Let me try a different approach here,” Sari bluntly states before cracking her knuckles and viciously grabbing Kayn by the skin of his neck.

  “This isn’t the tenderness that I remember you having,” Kayn hisses through his gritted
teeth as she twists his skin. “I suddenly remember that your caster friend had a violent temper, so I assume this is a tactic you learned from her. I’m happy that she’s teaching you to defend yourself and fight for what you want, but I’m not too thrilled with you causing me pain.”

  “Then stop acting like an idiot and accept my help,” Sari says, loosening her grip on his bruised flesh. “My friends have promised to help me avenge our clan, so we’re all involved in whatever you’re planning. So, tell me what you’re up to and we can put off our relationship discussion for another time. I should warn you that Luke has spent the last couple of weeks avoiding my advances and acting like kissing me was a mistake. Do you remember what I did to the last man who rejected me like that?”

  “The memory escapes me,” Kayn admits after some thought.

  “That’s because it has never happened before,” she snarls in a voice that reveals her barely controlled rage. “I’m not in the mood to be told by my first love that I should walk out of his life and into the arms of a man who is scared to touch me. Now, you’re going to let me in on your plan and give me something to do before I decide to give this city a whole new set of problems. All of which will be blamed on you and your guild.”

  Sari lets go of Kayn’s neck and flips off the bed, gracefully landing on her toes and making a playful spin. Her face scrunches into a look of disappointment when she realizes she still isn’t wearing a multi-layered skirt, so the hypnotic effect of her spin is absent. Kayn smiles at her adorable expression and he rolls off the other side of the bed. He takes a brown leather satchel out of a nearby nightstand and places it on a small table. Beckoning for Sari to come closer, he pulls a faded painting out of the satchel and spreads it open on the polished wood surface. The painting is of an elderly woman wearing a simple black and white dress. Draped over the old woman’s shoulders is a colorful shawl that appears to shimmer even with the painting’s faded colors.

  “This is the Great Matron who founded our clan. She left her own clan because of a forced marriage she felt went against the gypsy traditions,” Kayn explains as Sari quietly examines the painting. “We don’t know her name, but we know that she was a wise woman, a lover of freedom, and a powerful enchantress. The day she died, her shawl was passed on to the next Great Matron and this tradition continued until the shawl was stolen. The man who took it was a greedy gypsy that wished to use dark magic to gain leadership of the clan. The man was deranged and believed that the gypsy lifestyle should be spread across Ralian by force, so he was cast out of our world. The night he left, the Great Matron was found sacrificed in a dark ritual and her shawl was missing.”

  “You’re going after the rainbow shawl,” Sari whispers, gingerly stroking the picture as if the woman could feel her touch. “Nobody has ever had a clue as to where it went. My father told me that it is a forbidden quest because the elders feared the shawl had been corrupted. Did you actually find it, Kayn?”

  “During my imprisonment, I learned that the exiled gypsy became an agent of the monster who destroyed our clan,” he continues, his voice growing more excited with every word. “He sacrificed the Great Matron to put his essence into the shawl and bind it with several layers of magical protection. This ritual gave the man immortality and granted him the powerful dark magic of an experienced necrocaster. Basically, he found a way to gain evil powers without putting in the years of work and study.”

  Kayn rolls up the painting and puts it away to make sure he has Sari’s full attention. “If I can find the rainbow shawl then I can control this man and use him against his allies. He knows all of their secrets and he will be forced to obey whoever holds his essence in their hands. This is our key to avenging our kin, not just for their murder, but for the darkest event in our history. With that shawl, you can become a new Great Matron and rebuild our clan.”

  “You want me to wear a corrupted shawl?”

  “Someone can purify it.”

  “You don’t plan on joining me after this is over?” Sari asks, taking his hand in hers and holding it to her chest. “Even if we’re no longer partners, I still want you to be by my side. We have a history with each other and we shouldn’t throw that away.”

  “I can’t promise that I’ll be worthy of the gypsy path when this is over,” Kayn answers. He inches his hand up to her chin and gentle rubs his thumb against the side of her soft lip. “That’s a problem that we can face in the future. For now, we must find the tool that I need to regain the rainbow shawl.”

  “Oh for the luck of Cessia,” Sari groans in mild frustration. “We need a tool to get the tool that we need to control another tool? I hate confusing paths like this. What is it that you’re looking for in Hero’s Gate?”

  Kayn flashes a wicked grin. “I need my special sword.”

  *****

  Deep within the forest stands a towering tree, defiantly holding onto its lush green leaves in the face of its brown and bare neighbors. Its thick branches span for a mile on a trunk that rises hundreds of yards into the sky. Colorful pixies flutter around the canopy while a gathering of elegant dryads lounge on the lower branches. These human-sized fairies are clothed in autumn colors and constantly yawn as they prepare for their winter slumber. A few of the dryads lazily watch the activity on the ground, their eyelids drooping before they jolt themselves awake. Their mild interest is in the mud and stone huts surrounding the base of the tree. Red-skinned goblins wander about gathering firewood and preparing the nightly feast of wild game and chewy roots. The glossier females tend to the wailing babies that are tucked into the twisting roots of the great tree they were born from. Along the edge of the village stand the vigilant guardians, built slightly larger than the average goblin. Their tall ears twist and turn in the air, searching for signs of danger. Occasionally, one of the guardians barks and shakes his spear in the air until he hears a response from one of his brethren.

  “I never expected goblins to live like this,” Nyx admits as she stares at the busy village below her. She holds onto the wooden bars of her swaying cage, which is suspended high above the ground. Hearing a chuckle, she turns to glare at a bound warrior who was already in the cage when she was locked up.

  “They’re primitive savages,” Stephen states, fighting to break the tight rope wrapped around his entire body.

  “A prisoner of those primitive savages should be more respectful,” Nyx retorts with a disgusted sneer. “They have lives like the rest of us and, it appears, a society that isn’t too different from our own. They care for their children, protect their village, and eat together. It’s a shame we see them as monsters because they’re ugly to our eyes.”

  “You’re an interesting soul,” the warrior says, giving up his struggle and leaning against the side of the cage. “My initial impression of you was that you were a foolish girl for allowing yourself to be captured. Now, I can see that you’re a kind and compassionate woman. Windemere would be a nicer place if there were more people like you to rule it.” Stephen pauses to sniff at the air and asks a question that Nyx has long gotten tired of hearing from him. “Are you sure we’ve never met before?”

  “I’m not as nice as you think I am,” Nyx claims, ignoring the question and the fact that this stranger is sniffing the air for her scent. She is not sure why, but something about the act puts her on edge. “I feel sorry for the goblins because I killed so many of them. I’m realizing that they weren’t just goblins. They were mothers, fathers, children, grandparents, and every other role our society has. I would feel incredibly guilty if I cast the same spell on any of the city races, so I should feel the same amount of guilt for doing it to mind-controlled goblins.”

  Releasing a slow breath, Stephen slips a hand from his bindings and works on the crude knot. The warrior is free in a matter of seconds and swiftly ties the long rope to the bottom of the cage. He gently feeds the rope through the cage bars until he feels something wooden jab him in the back of the head. Stephen looks up to see several armed goblins standing on t
op of the cage. One of the goblins gracefully clambers to the bottom of the cage and bites through the rope, sending half of it plummeting to the ground.

  “You just got outwitted by a goblin,” Nyx whispers with a chuckle. Her laughing stops when something yanks on her hair. She reaches back to find a cool, delicate hand grabbing a fistful of ebony strands. Awkwardly turning around, Nyx finds a dryad nuzzling her hair. The beautiful fairy’s eyes flutter in ecstasy until the half-elf pulls her hair away. The dryad shakes its head clear of whatever fog had enveloped her mind and floats back to the tree.

  “I think she likes you,” Stephen says, joining Nyx on her side of the cage.

  “Too many people have been obsessed with my scent lately,” Nyx states while straightening her silky hair.

  “I can’t speak for everyone, but I find your scent intoxicating. It reminds me of fresh wine and an expertly cooked pheasant dinner garnished with roses and lavender,” Stephen declares, turning away so that he can hungrily lick his lips. “You’re a learned woman, so I’m sure you understand how scents are used to attract mates.”

  “Are you implying that I’m in heat?” she asks. As her anger grows, licks of flame travel along her hair causing the goblins on the cage to screech in terror. “Please don’t make me mad. I’m trying to settle my problem with the goblins through peace. Blasting you into the horizon wouldn’t endear me to them. I think.”

  “I didn’t mean anything crude or insulting,” the mercenary claims with a charming smile. “I only meant that a male and female of the same species are attracted to each other by scents. It could be defined as love or lust or whatever you wish to call it.”

  Nyx crosses her arms and thinks about what he is suggesting. “I understand what you mean, but I don’t think it works that way with higher beings. I can use my own life to disprove you. My friend, who has been traveling with me, has never taken an interest in my scent and he’s a forest tracker. If anyone would have been drawn to my odor then it would have been him. A more recent friend is a barbarian who has caught and mentioned my scent, but he hasn’t shown any interest beyond following his orders to protect me.”