An Unwelcome Quest (Magic 2.0 Book 3)

by Scott Meyer

  “Don’t mention it,” Jimmy said. “It’s nice to be able to pull my weight. When I was in Colombia, I was doing some odd jobs, and I spent a pretty sizeable chunk of my pay on an old book about the edible flora of the Americas. It was the best money I ever spent, and a pretty exciting read. The writing was awfully dry, but the chance of not starving to death made it a page-turner. I did have a mishap with some berries that gave me the winds, but luckily it was the middle of summer and I didn’t have regular access to a shower, so my normal odors were strong enough that nobody noticed a difference.”

  Phillip said, “Speaking of which, I would point out that you’re not smelling too good these days, but I suspect I’m not smelling much better.”

  Tyler smiled, and said, “I can confirm those suspicions.”

  Phillip bent his head down and sniffed his fur cloak, then winced. He thought a moment, then cupped his hand to his mouth to smell his own breath. He winced even more. He looked at his companions and said, “Gentlemen, we’ve gone to pot.”

  Gary said, “Well, it’s not like we’ve had a real chance to clean up. I’m just grateful that my beard is past the itchy stage.”

  Tyler and Jimmy murmured in agreement.

  Phillip nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. We’re all in the same disgusting boat, and the only person who’s going to see us like this is Todd. I certainly don’t care about his opinion. It just bugs me that these cloaks and leggings we’re wearing smelled better when we got them, by looting them from corpses.”

  The next day they continued taking turns, one man pulling the sledge while the others fended off tree wolves. One bit of wolf-related drama occurred when a tree wolf sprang from the limbs above and landed directly on Phillip’s back, clinging to the black fur cloak he had been wearing since the beginning of their quest. It clamped its jaws onto his shoulder, and while it did not break the skin through the thick layer of leather and fur, if given enough time it might well have broken some bone. It did not get the chance, as Tyler and Jimmy both leapt to Phillip’s aid, stabbing the tree wolf and killing it while it still clung to Phillip’s back. Phillip was quite grateful.

  He was less grateful an hour later when two wolves sprang from the spot on his cloak where the previous wolf had died and attacked him.

  After a few moments of frantic fighting, cursing, and laughing, the wolves were dead, and conversation turned to Phillip’s cloak.

  Tyler said, “You know you have to ditch that cloak, right?”

  Phillip said, “I dunno.”

  Jimmy, grunting with exertion from pulling the sledge, said, “He’s right, Phillip. The cloak has to go. The sooner the better. In an hour, it’ll be four wolves.”

  “No, wait,” Phillip said, “the first wolf was killed on my back, but the next two wolves weren’t on my back when we got ’em, so now the cloak is fine.”

  Gary looked puzzled, and said, “You know, I’m not sure if he’s right or not. All the times we’ve stuck around long enough for the wolves to come back more than once, it’s been dark, or there have been too many to keep track of. I don’t know if they come from the spot where the last wolf died, or where the first wolf died.”

  “Yeah,” Tyler agreed, “we haven’t done a proper scientific study of it. I suppose we could.”

  Jimmy diverted a bit of energy from pulling to say, “But do we really want to do it right now . . . on Phillip’s back?”

  “Oh, come on, guys,” Phillip said, clutching the edges of the cloak toward him like a security blanket. “It’s cold.”

  Tyler nodded sympathetically. “Yes, and the cloak will keep you warm, especially with all the exertion of fighting off four wolves.”

  Phillip said, “The wolf died on the back of the cloak, right? What if I don’t expose the back? What if I wear the cloak inside out for the next hour?”

  Gary said, “That might work.”

  Jimmy grunted, “Or, you might end up with four wolves inside your cloak with you.”

  “Yeah,” Phillip said. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  Gary said, “Not for you, but it’d be fun to watch.”

  Phillip looked defeated, but he didn’t remove the cloak.

  Tyler said, “You know we’re right.”

  “I know,” Phillip admitted. “It’s just—”

  “I know, it’s cold. Look, Gary and I can give you our wizard robes. You can put them on over yours. They aren’t that thick, but with three of them, you should be okay,” Tyler said.

  “It’s not just that,” Phillip said. “I just . . . I really like this cloak. It’s the coolest-looking piece of clothing I’ve ever owned. I’d never think of getting a black fur cloak, but now that I’ve worn one a while, I really like it.”

  After a moment’s thought, Tyler said, “It’s not a good look for you, Phillip.”

  “No?” Phillip asked.

  “No,” Tyler repeated.

  Jimmy said, “It makes you look like some sort of man-sized rodent.”

  Phillip said, “Oh,” and started taking the cloak off.

  Gary said, “Yeah, Phillip. That cloak, what is it? It’s like a Superman cape covered with bear fur.”

  Phillip paused in taking off the cloak and looked down at it again.

  Tyler leaned over to Gary, and whispered through gritted teeth, “Great, Gary. Make it sound awesome.”

  Phillip removed the cloak and threw it to the ground. They stopped walking for a moment while Gary and Tyler rearranged their garments. They gave Phillip their wizard robes. Jimmy would have gladly offered his own robe if he’d had it, but he’d been pulled into this mess wearing only pajamas, so all of his clothes were what Jimmy liked to call “locally sourced.” He liked to call it that because it sounded better than “stolen from the dead.”

  Neither Tyler’s nor Gary’s robes were particularly clean, so Phillip put them on over his own, which was none too fresh itself. They walked away, trying to put as much distance between themselves and Phillip’s old cloak as possible.

  Gary said, “Looking good, Phillip.”

  Phillip said, “Shut up.”

  “No, really,” Gary said. “You’re like a triple-wizard.”

  The day wore on, and wolves did not spontaneously leap out of Phillip’s back, as the other members had feared (and kind of hoped) they would. They eventually settled into their normal routine, light conversation interspersed with periods of quiet contemplation and dreading of the night. They had all long since gotten over the idea that the nights would be pleasant in any way. As outdoorsmen they were unenthusiastic, ill equipped, and uncomfortable. Each night they would take turns, one of them watching for wolves, guarding the other three as they slept. In theory, it allowed for everyone to get the maximum amount of sleep possible, but in practice, it worked out to be three men lying on the cold, hard ground trying desperately to get to sleep while one man sat next to the fire and tried desperately to stay awake. Then, every two hours or so, the guard would switch, and everyone would be disturbed by the hushed sounds of two men trying not to disturb anyone.

  Nothing wakes one up faster than the sound of someone tiptoeing and whispering, even when one expects it.

  Especially when one expects it.

  They were all playing their daily battle of wills where they each tried to not be the first one to suggest setting up camp for the night, when they saw it. A small trail of smoke was rising from the treetops in the distance.

  It was a single, puffy, grayish line that rose straight up from the treetops before the wind caught it and smeared it into a hazier diagonal streak that faded into invisibility.

  Phillip was about to speak, but Jimmy beat him to the punch, saying the exact word that Phillip had intended to say.

  “Chimney.”

  Phillip knew that there was no guarantee there would be a cabin or, if there was, that they’d be we
lcomed by its owners. The entire quest had been created specifically to make them suffer, so the idea that Todd had created whatever was ahead as a nice little break did not seem likely. Knowing this did not slow Phillip’s pace.

  The path bent away from the smoke, then toward it, then away again before finally aiming them directly at it. In the distance, through the trees, at the end of the path, they could see some sort of dark mass directly below the column of smoke.

  As they drew nearer, they could make out what looked like a porch.

  Then they could make out movement on the porch.

  Then they could tell that there were multiple people.

  They hurried their pace.

  When they got close enough to hear laughter and conversation coming from the porch, they all slowed down and listened intently, trying to figure out who and what they were going to find.

  When they realized that the people on the porch were all young women who seemed to be in excellent spirits and excellent health, the men started walking casually toward the source of the feminine sounds.

  Phillip and Jimmy stood extra straight. Jimmy placed one hand on the side of his gut. Phillip thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans, causing the three robes he wore to flap open and spill back over his wrists in a manner he hoped might be described as Humphrey Bogart–esque. Tyler draped his right hand over the pommel of his sword. His mouth formed a sneering smile that said, “I know that you’re happy I’m here.” Gary leaned extra hard into the rope he used to pull the sledge, making sure to flex every arm muscle he knew of. They all cleared their throats, so that when the time came to speak to their new friends, their voices would be deep and rich.

  This is what men call “acting casual.”

  The building was surprisingly large, two stories, with a porch that ran the whole width of the building, and a veranda on the second floor that mirrored the size of the porch. There were many windows, but there was still more light outside the building than in, so it was impossible to see inside. The front door was hanging open invitingly.

  On the porch, three women were making pleasant conversation while they tended to their chores. All three of them had long hair, but in vaguely different styles and very different colors. One was blond, one brunette, and the third, predictably, had flaming red hair. They wore white, low-cut peasant blouses and rough, high-hemmed peasant skirts. The redhead was turned away from the men and was slowly churning butter, doing most of the work with her back. The brunette sat straddling a washtub, her strong, bare legs holding the tub steady while she looked down and scrubbed her garments in the warm, sudsy water. The blond stood between them, leaning against a post, knitting. She held her knitting just below her cleavage, slowly working the needles through the yarn. Her head was bowed, her eyes on her work. Her blond hair hid her eyes, but the men could see the tip of her button nose, and her lips slowly mouthing “Knit one, purl two. Knit one, purl two.”

  The redhead said something to the other two, both of whom giggled.

  Jimmy cleared his throat and said, “Good evening, ladies.”

  The blond looked up from her knitting, fluttered her eyelashes, and smiled. Phillip got a good look at her face, and his blood ran cold.

  The blond breathed, “Greetings, stout menfolk.”

  The brunette looked up from her laundry and smiled. She wrung out whatever garment she was cleaning in such a way as to squeeze her breasts together and forward. The redhead stopped working but stayed bent over forward and left her hands on the churn as she turned and smiled over her shoulder, saying “Welcome.”

  Tyler groaned.

  Jimmy grimaced and said, “Please excuse us, one moment.”

  The three women watched them silently as the wizards retreated several steps to confer in hushed tones.

  “Why do they all look like Gwen?” Tyler asked.

  Jimmy said, “I don’t know. Maybe he had a thing for Gwen.”

  Phillip said, “No, that’s not it. The last time he saw her was years ago from his point of view. He’d have met plenty of women between then and now, and copying them would have been much easier than making a likeness of Gwen from memory. No, he set this up to torture us. Maybe he figures we all have a thing for Gwen. Gary, he was your apprentice. What do you think?”

  Gary shrugged. “Yeah. I bet that’s it. After all, we all did have the hots for her back then, didn’t we?”

  “Well, I don’t know that I’d say that,” Phillip said. “I mean, she’s certainly an attractive young lady, but I’ve never really considered a romantic relationship with her.”

  “Yes,” Jimmy agreed. “She was always a valued member of the community, and any man would be lucky to be in a relationship with her, certainly, but to say that we all had the hots for her isn’t at all accurate.”

  Tyler nodded emphatically. “I mean, sure, if she were interested, there isn’t a wizard in Leadchurch who wouldn’t have been interested as well, but no, Gary, I don’t think it’s fair to imply that we were all just sitting around pining after Gwen.”

  Gary said, “Uh huh. Okay. Well, you all can tell yourselves whatever you want, but I’m pretty sure that Todd walked away thinking that we all had the hots for Gwen.”

  Tyler asked, “Well, what gave him that impression?”

  Gary said, “I did, when I told him that we all had the hots for Gwen. In fact, I might have said those exact words, several times.”

  “Why would you tell him that?” Phillip whined.

  “Because it’s true. Be honest, Phillip. Not one of you denies that she’s attractive. Not even just now. All you really said was that you weren’t planning to act on it. Well, Martin and I did, and that’s probably why we got further with her than any of you ever did.”

  “She turned you down,” Tyler said.

  “Yeah,” Gary said. “But that’s one step further than you got.”

  “Okay,” Phillip said, attempting to get the conversation back on track. “We can discuss this later, or preferably not. Right now, Todd’s clearly trying to use the three Gwens over there as bait.”

  “Yeah,” Jimmy said. “I say we go ask some questions, see if we can figure out what the trap is.”

  After a silence that implied consent, Jimmy walked back toward the porch, the other three men following very close behind.

  Jimmy cleared his throat again and said, “We’ve been walking for many days. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a roof over our heads, or a hot meal.”

  The blond Gwen parted her cherry-red lips to speak but was interrupted by a distant, muffled voice from inside the building that said, “What’s that? Who are you talking to out there?”

  Here it comes, Phillip thought. He lured us in close with the ladies; now we’ll get surrounded by angry male relatives and we’ll have to fight our way out.

  The blond kept her eyes locked on the men but tilted her head back over her shoulder and said, “Come see for yourself.”

  The door opened and another stunning young woman with Gwen’s face emerged, this one with short, jet-black hair and features altered to look vaguely Asian.

  Now that they were close, the wizards could see that while all four of the women looked similar enough to Gwen to be recognizable likenesses, none of them was quite right. One had cheekbones that were a little too pronounced. One had a jaw that was a little too square. One’s eyes were a little too large. Like the miners and the wolves they’d been fighting off, the women were artificial creations, and permanent residents of the uncanny valley. They were just perfect enough to look totally wrong, but Phillip knew from experience that being struck or bitten by them felt perfectly convincing. There was no reason to believe that anything these Gwen clones chose to do wouldn’t feel equally real. Phillip made note of this likelihood, then felt ashamed of himself for it.

  “Oh,” the new Gwen said. “Who are our handsome visitor
s?”

  The blond, whose gaze had never left the men, said, “Warriors on a long journey. I expect they’ll be looking for a place to rest.”

  The black-haired Gwen took stock of the men, then said, “I’ll go prepare the guest beds, though I don’t know how restful their night will be.”

  The other Gwens tittered and blushed as the black-haired Gwen disappeared into the house.

  Jimmy said, “Please, ladies, we appreciate your offer, but we don’t want to be any trouble.”

  The blond Gwen said, “Kind sirs, please don’t embarrass us with talk of money.”

  Phillip noted that just like every other character in this ridiculous quest with whom they’d tried to talk, the responses didn’t quite match what they had said. This was obviously because Todd had preprogrammed the characters’ dialog without knowing, or caring, what the wizards he’d trapped would actually say.

  The spokes-Gwen continued. “We insist that you stay with us. Please, you’d be doing us a favor. The four of us have lived alone here since we were small girls. We’ve been without any companionship since our father died, somehow.”

  Tyler turned to Phillip and mouthed, “Somehow?” Phillip waved him off.

  “We have a great deal of delicious food, all of which has been cut into bite-sized morsels, perfect for hand-feeding. We’ll happily share it. All we ask is your company. We have never had men visit before. We are very curious, and have many questions.”

  In spite of himself, Jimmy asked, “What kind of questions?”

  The blond said, “And, of course, we’ll give you shelter for the night. We have soft beds, satin sheets, silk pajamas, and a large variety of exotic lotions.”

  Gary stammered, “Ooh. That’s . . . that’s a lot of . . . smoothness.”

  Jimmy blurted, “Excuse me,” and turned his back to the Gwens, walking back to where he thought they could not hear.

  Jimmy said, “I stand by my position that this is a trap.”

  Phillip nodded. “Clearly.”

  “Yup,” Tyler agreed.

  Gary said, “Let’s go in.”

  Phillip goggled at Gary and said, “It’s a trap! Why on earth would you want to go in there?”