He paused at the junction and tried to figure out which way led back to town. Edgur was born in Epityr and had come to Argivia as a lad to apprentice to the Guild of Coppersmiths. His family had long ago been among the first citizens of Epityr, before Urza and Mishra fought the ruinous Brothers' War. In the upheaval that followed the catastrophic conflict, Edgur's ancestors found themselves reduced to trade. Coppersmithing was Edgur's chance to better himself. Now twenty, he was a third-degree journeyman, but he seldom traveled much outside the city and never at night. He stood staring at the fork, chilled by the night wind. His chest ached. Which way?
The south road wound around a low hill. By starlight he couldn't tell if horses or carriages had come this way recently-the sand was too soft, and any tracks made by Joren's or Artulle's conveyances would have been quickly obscured by the wind. The eastern track was marked by a row of trees on either side of the road. It was plain the trees had been planted by human hands as a windbreak, so he decided the left-hand path must be the road to Argivia. Hitching up his belt, which was sagging under the weight of the sword, Edgur started down the eastern track.
A distant dog howled. He turned back to look over the starlit fields and saw nothing but the vague shadows of clouds passing over the waving grassland. Once under the trees, the night closed in around him. Stars and breeze alike were blocked out by the closely growing cedars. He heard a flap of wings overhead and ducked. There were creatures of the night abroad in the country, creatures unfriendly to lonely travelers. Edgur drew his sword and quickened his step.
Without the wind to mask it, he detected all sorts of rustlings and stirrings in the brush on either side of the road. Edgur skirted first one side, then the other, determined not to let anything spring on him from the shadows. At one point he thought he spotted a pair of glowing green eyes in the ferns and thrust at them with his weapon. A bird flew up, shocking him. It flew away, screeching. Edgur muttered a curse and hurried on.
He was tired. The sword was heavy, his wound throbbed, and he hadn't eaten since noon. His mind went back to the elaborate repast Joren's servants had brought to the duel and spread out on fancy woolen carpets. Joren had offered him cold fowl and white wine then. Edgur haughtily refused his rival's hospitality. Now he'd give his left hand for a bit of roast chicken.
Wait-were those footfalls behind him? Edgur whirled, sword ready. He couldn't see beyond ten paces, but there was nothing to see. Backtracking a bit, he found large, five-toed footprints in the dirt. They were like cat tracks, only much larger and more robust than any cat print he'd ever seen. He knelt beside the tracks and found he couldn't cover the strange prints with his spread hand.
The night was very quiet. Too quiet, in fact-all the crickets had ceased singing, and the stray rustlings in the underbrush were still. Edgur stood up and ran. He didn't know what he was running from, but he was certain he didn't want to find out.
After his initial burst of fear-induced speed, running degenerated into a painful chore. Puffing with fatigue, Edgur slowed, then stopped. It was still eerily calm around him. Facing behind him, he waited and watched, straining every sense to discover who or what was trailing him.
There was a rapid shuffle of feet, followed by a crash off to his right. Edgur had had enough. He shoved his sword in his belt and broke into a hard jog away from his unseen stalker. He hadn't gone fifty paces before he saw a glimmer off the road among the trees. A light! Light meant people.
He made for the north side of the road, expecting to have to cut his way through brambles and brush. To his surprise, Edgur found a neat hole in the hedgerow and evidence of a well-worn footpath, leading directly toward the dim, yellow light. With frequent glances over his shoulder, Edgur made for the small glinting beacon. From its soft color he took it to be an oil lamp. It didn't waver like a flame but gave off a steady amber glow that flickered only because Edgur was darting among tree trunks and hedges.
The narrow path took him straight to a clearing about twenty-five paces wide. Offset from the center of the clearing was a patriarch among oaks, easily twice the size of any other tree in the area. Stout limbs branched off the trunk at low levels. Perched on one limb was a child of undetermined sex, perhaps twelve years old. A lamp rested on the ground below the child's dangling feet.
This was so unexpected a scene Edgur stopped dead in his tracks. The child sat with his (her?) back against the mighty trunk, eyes closed and hands folded. Edgur slowly approached, the unseen menace behind him forgotten. Twelve steps away he stopped again, this time because the child suddenly opened his eyes. Edgur decided he was male.
"Who are you?" demanded the boy.
"A traveler. I've lost my way," Edgur replied.
"You carry a sword."
"For my own protection."
"You were running. I heard you."
Edgur mopped his brow with a handkerchief. "Something was after me. I never saw it, but I found its tracks." He stuffed the kerchief back in his pocket. "What's a sprig like you doing out on his own in the middle of the night?"
"I live nearby." With a single swing of his hands, the boy leaped down from the limb, landing lightly in front of Edgur. He was just five feet tall, slender-almost gaunt-and had vivid green eyes and pale hair. He was dressed in a faded gray shift that came down to his knees. The old garment was threadbare and had been mended many times.
"My name's Dare."
"Edgur." He offered his hand, but the boy stared at it as if he'd never seen the gesture before. "Where's your home, Dare?"
"Over there," the boy said with a vague wave of his hand. "I go where I want and do as I please. I spend a lot of time at this tree."
"Don't your parents mind?"
"Parents?"
A throaty snarl interrupted their conversation. Edgur fumbled for his sword, while Dare scampered up the oak tree with the agility of a squirrel.
"You know what's out there?" asked Edgur, putting his back against the tree.
"Panther warrior," said the boy. "He's been after me for a long time."
Edgur started to sweat. "Panther warrior? Aren't they just legends?"
"They're real. I hope there's not a whole pride of them."
Edgur swallowed hard and gripped his sword with both hands. He'd been outfought already today by Joren, and he felt none too confident of his ability to hold off one of the fearsome panther warriors, a twilight race of panther men who haunted the forests of Terisiare.
He said, "I wish I had more light!"
"Take up the lamp if you want," returned Dare.
Keeping his eyes on the darkness, Edgur squatted and felt about until his fingers closed around a smooth, warm rod about as thick as his thumb. It was stuck in the moss at the foot of the tree. He plucked it out easily and brought it up to eye level. Only then did he see it clearly. The lamp was shaped like a snake, about ten inches long and rigid as an axe handle. It emitted a warm, yellow light.
Edgur let out a yell and dropped the glowing reptile. The same time it hit the ground a dark shape moved across the periphery of his vision. Blindly, he lashed out at the moving form and felt the sword tip dig into something yielding. He recovered, and a gut-wrenching snarl, very close, drove him to strike out again.
This time Edgur's blade met real resistance. He leaned against the hilt, and the sword ripped into whatever it was. Something whispered past his face, followed by a spreading sensation of heat. Suddenly there was a crack, and his sword came loose. Edgur found himself tumbling in the dirt. Terrified, he struggled to his feet. The ironmonger's second-best sword had snapped off half its length.
Fingers tapped lightly on his shoulder. Edgur spun around, broken blade out. Dare caught the iron stump in his small, pale hand. In his other hand he held the strange snakelamp.
"Be at ease, Master Edgur. The panther man has fled. "
Breathing hard, Edgur lowered the ruined weapon. "I never even saw him, " he gasped.
"He saw you, all right. " Dare rubbed a finger across Edgur's c
heek. He had three parallel scratches on his face, all bleeding. The boy showed him the blood.
Edgur sat down heavily. "It's not been a good day. "
"You saved us both, " Dare said brightly. "I'm happy about that. Aren't you?"
"I'm cut all over, I'm lost, and the love of my life has been taken from me, " Edgur replied.
"I can help you."
Edgur dropped the broken sword and sighed. "I'd appreciate directions back to Argivia."
Dare held the snakelamp close to his chest. "I can do more than that. With my art I can heal your wounds and repair your fortunes."
Edgur raised his head. "You're a sorcerer?"
The boy spread his arms wide. "I am the guardian of this place. The mana of living things flows through me, and for your service to me, I will repay you."
He pointed the glowing snake at Edgur. It seemed to grow brighter as it neared the older man's face. Dare's strange revelations frightened him, but he was too weary to run. Inches from his face, the snake's eyes suddenly snapped open. They were as green as emeralds. Edgur flinched away, but the snake lengthened in Dare's hand until the reptile's head lightly touched his slashed cheek. A flash of heat passed through Edgur. His head reeled, but when he recovered he found his cheek completely healed.
Edgur slipped a hand inside his torn shirt and found his chest wound was gone. There was still dry blood on his shirt, but no scab or wound remained. His chest was as unmarked as it had been when he left Argivia at noon.
He fell to his knees. "I thank you, great one!"
Dare smiled and bade him stand. Edgur got to his feet. Around the clearing the bushes and trees were filled with pairs of glowing eyes, all looking at Dare. Edgur shuddered with the realization he was in the presence of a nature spirit, a tree nymph perhaps, despite his external appearance as a human boy. The eyes, hundreds of pairs, watched in total silence.
"I–I'll be going now," Edgur murmured.
"I've not finished," Dare said. "You had two other requests. I intend to honor them."
He held up a hand, and there was a flutter from the line of trees. An enormous snowy owl settled on the boy's wrist like a tame peregrine. "This is Phreus, one of my sentinels. He will guide you within sight of Argivia, though he may not enter its environs himself."
The owl regarded Edgur with vast black eyes. Edgur blinked; Phreus blinked. Startled, Edgur repeated the motion, and the owl imitated him perfectly.
"Don't mind him, he's feeling playful. Lastly, you've lost your love, I think you said?"
"Uh, yes," said Edgur.
"Who is she?"
"Her name is Riliana." He broke the owl's spellbinding gaze as he formed the image of Riliana's face in his mind. "She's the eldest daughter of my master, Perrick the Coppersmith."
"Does her father approve of you?"
Edgur's face fell. "No. He favors Joren, scion of the house of Homdallson, senior master of the Bookbinders Guild."
"A wealthy and powerful family?"
"Yes, damn them. Joren has every advantage that I lack-a full purse, powerful alliances, manners, education, looks… but I know Riliana loves me and would choose me if Joren were not in the way!"
Dare thrust the rigid snakelamp tail first in the ground and sprang easily to the low limb of the oak tree. The owl flapped silently to a nearby branch and resumed staring at Edgur. The older man followed Dare to the base of the tree, his hands working as he spoke.
"I challenged Joren to a duel," he said, voice rising. "We met in a meadow not far from here an hour before sundown. Wouldn't you know he's had fencing lessons- fencing lessons, while I've spent every waking hour of the past six years learning my trade!"
"Your problem is a simple one," said Dare, drawing his bare knees up to his chin. "You wish to best Joren, do you not?"
The words came out too easily: "I want to kill him!"
Dare's green eyes fixed him with an unerring gaze. "Killing is easy. What takes care is the afterward."
"What do you mean?"
"There are any number of ways to kill your rival. The trick is not to get caught or to be blamed for the deed. Your fair lady cannot wed a man who has a date with the hangman, can she?"
"True… but you have powerful magic, great one. There must be a way!"
Dare's eyes glittered coldly. "Are you sure of this?"
He wasn't, but he thought this might be his best and only chance. "I am," Edgur declared.
"An assassin might do the job." The boy twined his fingers together behind his head. "Humans are unreliable, though. When caught, they tend to talk too much."
"An animal, then? Perhaps a venomous serpent?"
Dare sighed. "Vipers are too random, I fear. They tend to bite whomever they feel like and often just decide on their own not to bite the one man you want them to."
"Spiders?"
"Even worse. They've no brains at all."
Edgur felt his exultation fading. Even killing Joren was proving too hard for him.
"There is a way-a good way-to remove your rival," Dare said quietly. "It has the benefit of being 'hands-on,' so to speak, and also will shield you from any blame whatsoever."
"What is it?"
"I can provide you with a charm that will allow you to take on the aspects of any animal you choose-a wolf, a panther, a giant constrictor. In that form you will be able to find your enemy and extinguish him."
Edgur pondered the idea with growing excitement. "Yes, that would work! None of Joren's fancy moves or money can save him from a wolf! Riliana will be heartbroken by her suitor's death-"
"And all the more susceptible to the comfort of another," Dare finished for him.
"I'll do it!"
Dare leaned forward, grinning. Edgur was disturbed to see the boy's teeth were shockingly long and pointed.
"What will it be?" he said. "A wolf?"
Edgur averted his eyes from the boy's feral visage. "Uh, no. There aren't many wolves in these parts." He remembered a story he heard in the guildhall kitchen about a bear ravaging local herds of cattle. "I think… a bear. A grizzly bear."
"Excellent choice! There's no fiercer fighter in all the forest." Dare pressed his fingertips together, arching his fingers to create a tent with his hands. A greenish spark appeared between his palms, a spark that rapidly grew larger until it assumed the shape of a convex disk. Dare's youthful brow knotted, and the muscles of his thin arms tightened as he concentrated. The disk became a solid amulet two inches wide, and when Dare ceased his silent conjuration, it fell to the moss at Edgur's feet. He picked it up. It was an emerald of fantastic size and beauty.
"You hold in your hands living mana of the forest made solid. " Dare said. "Half its power will be expended when you use it to transform into a bear. The other half will be needed to make a man of you again. " Dare thrust a finger at Edgur. "Do not lose the amulet! Without it you cannot change into a bear or change back once assuming ursine form. Do you understand?"
"Yes, great one. As a bear, will I have human knowledge and thoughts?"
"Yes, but you may not always act on what you think. A bear is not a man. Remember that. "
Edgur carefully placed the amulet in his coat pocket. When he looked up again, Dare was gone. The bright snake began to lose its glow, and the night rapidly encroached on the clearing once more. A thousand eyes encircled Edgur, but this time he wasn't afraid.
"Thank you, great one!" he shouted. "I'll never forget this!"
The great white owl rose from the oak tree and flapped away, his soft wings inaudible against the rising background of crickets, peeping frogs, and whippoorwills. Phreus circled until Edgur thrust his broken sword in his belt and hurried after the patient bird. The owl's snowy plumage was easy to see even in pitch darkness.
When he was gone, a panther warrior slowly approached the oak tree. His shoulder was bloody, and the end of a crude iron rapier protruded from the wound. The panther crept to the tree and prostrated himself among the gnarled roots.
"Maste
r, I am here," said the panther raggedly. "Did I do well?"
Dare's voice filtered through the sighing oak leaves. "You did well, Aga. You drove the human straight to me and played the stalking panther to perfection."
"You're most gracious, master."
"Pull out the broken blade, Aga, and I will heal you."
Paws were useless for the task, so the panther had to use his teeth. His wound burned fiercely, and he closed his jaw delicately on the ten-inch blade. With a single sideways wrench of his head, the panther warrior drew out the broken blade. His caterwaul carried far in the darkness, raising the hair on Edgur's neck as he hurried home.
Phreus left Edgur at the gates of Argivia. The young man was so excited by his night's adventure he couldn't sleep. He spent the time till dawn writing a passionate love letter to Riliana, predating it a day hence. By then Joren would be dead and Riliana his.
He knew his enemy's habits. Joren divided his evening hours among three taverns: Penkin's, the Acorn amp; Hammer, and the Midus Well. Joren and his cronies would be at Penkin's come sundown. Edgur managed to put in a full day's work at the coppersmithy, brushing off his colleagues' questions about the duel. All was well, he told Meckie and Artulle; the duel was over, and so was his love for Riliana.
He stayed late at the workshop, ostensibly to repair a double boiler sent over from Tanton's distillery. When the shop was dark and empty, he got out the emerald amulet and placed it on his worktable. Even by lamplight the gem was dazzling. Though the surface was smooth, the amulet was faceted internally like a star, each line cleaving from the center to the outside edge. The color was deep and dark, with gold highlights fracturing off the inner facets.
Edgur donned his good jacket and placed the amulet in the inside pocket. He slipped his letter to Riliana under a pile of guild correspondence going out in the morning. The city watch announced the hour. It was time to go.
The Colors of Magic Anthology (magic: the gathering) Page 7
