“Watch my back!” he shouted to Elmerah. “I'll get to the carcass!”
He tossed aside his bow and drew a dagger from his belt, sticking it deep into a spider’s front leg as it lunged for him. He narrowly avoided an attack to his back as Elmerah appeared behind him. The spider fell in a hissing, flaming heap at her feet.
“Go!” she urged. “I cannot hold them back for long.”
He could no longer see Saida, Malon, or the witch hunter in the chaos, but if he could reach that one dead spider he could stop it all . . . hopefully. He ran forward, ignoring his instincts to react to oncoming attacks as Elmerah intercepted them instead. If she fell and he didn't notice, he was as good as dead. Dozens of sets of long legs clacked and hissed across the ground. He could barely see the one dead spider in the flickering light. Sometimes things would disappear from sight entirely as Elmerah rammed her flaming cutlass into a spider’s underbelly.
One arrow after another landed with solid thunks around him, but Malon would run out of arrows soon.
He reached the spider. The witch hunter was already there, blade in hand.
He leered at Alluin. “Whoever gets the treasure becomes their master?” he taunted.
Another spider lunged at Alluin. He jumped aside, but no attack from Elmerah came. He glanced back. He could see flashes of dancing flame, surrounded by other spiders.
The nearest spider hissed and shot webbing at him, trapping his boots against the stone. The witch hunter began hacking away at the dead spider's abdomen, searching for the treasure. Alluin slashed at the attacking spider.
“Hah!” the witch hunter howled triumphantly. He held a circlet above his head, dripping spider blood and other fluids down his arm.
All movement in the room ceased. The spiders turned toward him. He grinned. It was all over for them. An arrow thunked into his chest.
Alluin had to suppress a giggle brought on by the mixture of anticipation and sudden elation.
The witch hunter hunched over, his free hand grasping at the arrow shaft. He aimed a final hateful look at Alluin—though his eyes weren’t quite focused—then crumpled over, dead. The circlet clattered to the ground.
Her cutlass still aflame, Elmerah walked around the dead spider blocking her way, then picked up the circlet. Spider blood dripped from her hair, and blotted her hands and face. She held her cutlass near the goo-covered circlet as she observed it.
Saida edged cautiously around the waiting spiders until she reached Elmerah's side. Malon remained back near the wall, bow gripped in one hand. Alluin’s eyes widened as he noticed a small shining wisplight hovering over Malon’s other hand. He knew the Faerune elves had more magic than Valeroot, but he’d never seen it up close.
Saida peered at the circlet through a veil of hair streaming with spider silk. She swatted at the sticky silk, unable to tug it free. "This must be something special if it was worth summoning demons to protect it."
Alluin watched the spiders warily. They did not attack, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to trust them. “Speaking of said demons. Perhaps we should depart.”
Elmerah held her cutlass out toward the waiting spiders. “If they're through attacking us, we still need to search for signs of Isara.”
Alluin looked around until he spotted the other dead witch hunter, killed by the spiders. “I think if Isara made it this far in, all we would find is a corpse.”
Malon slung his bow over his shoulder and approached, bringing his whisp-light with him. His eyes were on the circlet in Elmerah's hand. "Is that . . . moonstone?"
Elmerah held it up. The band was gold, tarnished with age, curved into a perfect delicate circlet, much thinner and lighter than a crown. It was simple, if finely made, with tiny clusters of moonstones along the front, leading up to one large stone in the center. Spider liquids had seeped into the seams.
Saida cast a knowing look at Malon.
“What is it?” Alluin asked, shifting impatiently. Everyone else might be fine with all the beady, glistening eyes watching them, but he most certainly was not.
“This circlet is of Faerune design,” Saida explained, “and our rare moonstones are only used for the most special pieces.”
“So what is it doing here?” Elmerah asked. “And guarded by demons?”
Saida looked to Malon, who shrugged. “Probably stolen by Akkeri. This is one of their temples, after all.”
Elmerah pursed her lips, looking down at the circlet. “We'll take it with us. Maybe the Faerune scholars will have more to say. Now let’s finish our search and move on. I want to reach the next village by nightfall.” Her gaze turned down to the dead witch hunter, then up to Alluin. “Were these the only two? It would have been useful to capture one alive. Find out why they're hunting me.”
“They said someone wanted you alive,” he explained, then added, “a man, it was a he they mentioned.”
She nudged the witch hunter corpse with the toe of her boot. “Hmph. They're going to end up with a lot of dead witch hunters if they keep this up.”
All the spiders watched in silence as she turned toward the back end of the cavern and walked past them, the circlet swinging in one hand with all the care one would give a cheap trinket. If it bothered her to come so close to death all the time, she most certainly didn't show it.
Saida
After a fruitless search, the group rode far away from the Akkeri temple. Saida would have preferred to stop and clean the spider blood from her hair, but there was no saying what lurked beneath the fetid marsh water, nor how many other witch hunters might be nearby. They'd hidden the third body within the temple, and had taken the three witch hunter horses. Two they would set loose well away from the temple, and the third now carried Malon, who'd followed them to the temple on foot.
Saida eyed him askance. Had he really come just to ensure her safety? He'd never seemed to care about her previously—in fact, she’d only learned his name when he’d been promoted to Guard Captain last year—and it wasn't like she was terribly special. He was one of only five Guard Captains. His duty was in Faerune, not here with her.
Malon's gray eyes flicked her way and she whipped her gaze forward.
He cleared his throat. “Fallshire is not far off, but are you sure you want to rest there? We are quite a conspicuous party, and there may be more witch hunters lying in wait."
“Don't you dare deprive me of a bath, Malon!” Elmerah called from further ahead on the rutted path.
Alluin rode silently at her side. He hadn't spoken since they'd left the temple. Saida suspected he was a bit shy of spiders.
Malon visibly clenched his smooth jaw. “I was right not trusting her to protect you,” he muttered, low enough that only Saida could hear.
She squirmed in her saddle. “I daresay I trust her more than I trust you.”
He startled, then turned wide eyes to her. “Truly?”
She lifted her nose, feeling oddly guilty, as if she were betraying Faerune in some way. “She has saved my life many times. You have done so only once.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Oh? How many more times must I save you?”
She blushed, realizing how ridiculous she sounded. “I only meant you have not earned my trust, Malon.”
“Nor you mine, priestess. Nor you mine.”
She turned away. They rode in silence as the night shadows slowly closed in around them. Thinking of witch hunters and giant spiders, she shivered.
Malon stared off into the growing darkness, his reflective eyes occasionally flickering when she caught him at just the right angle.
Elmerah and Alluin quietly conversed ahead.
Saida longed to pull the circlet from the small satchel she wore as a waist pouch, but did not dare observe it out in the open. If anyone saw . . . she shook her head. Moonstones amplified elven power tenfold. Any Sun Priest or Priestess—those with magical power to begin with—would jump at the opportunity to don the circlet. Unfortunately, for her it was useless. She ha
d none of the magics she was supposed to, save seeing through Nokken disguises.
“Did you recognize the circlet?” she asked suddenly.
Malon turned toward her, his shoulders gently swaying in rhythm with his mount.
“I mean other than it being of Faerune origin,” she clarified. “You knew about the Ayperos. If you've studied myths so extensively, perhaps you know more about this circlet too.”
He frowned. “The Ayperos aren’t mere myth, as you’ve clearly seen.”
Goosebumps tickled up her arms. Demons were supposed to be myth. She'd thought the spiders normal beasts like wyverns or trolls, but Malon had been right about the treasure buried within the largest monster. “That doesn't answer my question,” she said out loud. “Did you recognize the circlet?”
“Just because I knew of the Ayperos, does not mean I've extensively studied myths, demonic or otherwise. You know full well I am no scholar.”
And you're not much for pleasant conversation either, she thought. “You still haven't answered my question.”
His back stiffened, ever so slightly. “No, I did not recognize it specifically, but you and I both know it is extremely valuable. It is dangerous to travel with such an item, especially when we don't know who summoned the Ayperos to protect it.”
“You think whoever did it is still alive? I assumed it had been in that temple for ages.”
“Ayperos will only remain in this realm as long as their summoner is alive.”
She bit her lip. For someone who claimed to not have studied the myths extensively, he knew quite a bit about demons.
“There,” he said, pointing past Elmerah and Alluin further down the narrow path.
She looked up, catching sight of smoke plumes from the distant town of Fallshire billowing up past the last light of sunset.
“Keep that circlet well hidden,” Malon advised. “We'll rest for a few hours and leave before first light.”
Saida couldn't help but smile. If Malon thought he was suddenly going to be in charge with someone like Elmerah around, he was in for a rude—or violent—awakening.
Elmerah
Elmerah leaned back in her chair, a smug smile on her lips. Fallshire was a modest town, not interesting at all, but the ale at their sole in was decent. She also didn’t mind the warm fire, and comforting murmur of conversation.
Malon sat across from her at the round wooden table, next to Saida, glowering. Stupid elf had thought to tell her she'd have to go to bed with no supper, and no ale.
Elmerah swirled the amber liquid around in her boiled leather mug, then scraped the last remnants of steamed eel from her plate and stuck them in her mouth, intentionally smacking her lips louder than was necessary.
Malon turned to Saida, whose hair was still wet from washing away the spider blood. “Is there a secret to putting up with this insufferable woman,” he gestured to Elmerah, “or have you simply forced yourself to become deaf when that grating voice comes out of her lips?”
Alluin chuckled and sipped his ale. He was stationed between Elmerah and Malon, clearly not choosing sides.
Elmerah took a long swig from her mug, then offered Malon a sweet smile. Her voice was appealingly toned, sultry even. Stupid elf just couldn't hear her right with his pointy ears.
Malon glared at her. “We shouldn’t be sitting out in the open like this,” he said, keeping his voice low in a final—at least she hoped it was final—appeal. “It’s not safe. You’re being hunted.”
She drummed her fingers on the table for a moment before answering. “You do realize what we’re doing out here, don’t you? It can be a bit difficult finding someone who’s been missing for several seasons when you hide in your room and don't talk to anyone.”
He gestured toward the bar. “So go talk to someone then.”
“Fine.” She stood. Truth be told, she wasn't looking forward to hearing another person say they had no idea where Isara was, but if it would take her away from Malon, she'd manage.
Alluin pushed his empty mug away. “I'll come along and make sure you don’t kill anyone.”
She rolled her eyes and turned away. The small tavern was bustling for such a remote village, not that she could blame anyone for imbibing. She'd want to be drunk out of her mind too if she had to live and work in a place like this. A few elves and humans glanced at her and Alluin as they passed. Most of the elves had the fairer complexion of Faerune, while many humans were darker complected. Likely some of the bloodlines of the Helshone Desert and other regions of the Far South creeping in. For once, Alluin stood out more than her.
She reached the bar and smoothed her hands across the pockmarked surface. The wood was soft and old, lined with countless dents and creases where plates and cutlery had been knocked around. Alluin stationed himself at her left, as the place on her right was occupied by an older female elf hunched over a dram of whiskey. She stank of sweat and manure.
The barkeep, an aged human man with thinning dark hair and a round belly from too much ale, caught her eye and approached. He didn't speak as he reached them, and the glassy look in his eyes told her he really didn’t care what they had to say.
“We’re looking for a human woman named Isara,” Elmerah explained. “Have you heard of her?”
Recognition flickered across his face before smoothing away. He leaned his elbows on the bar. “How bad do you want to know?”
Elmerah eyed him dangerously. “I asked my question first.”
This seemed to confuse him. His lips twisted into a gross pout.
The drunk elf on Elmerah’s right turned toward them. “Buy me a drink and I'll tell you. It’ll cost you much less than worming any information out of Tully here.” She gestured with a crooked thumb toward the barkeep.
Tully, scowled at her. "Don't make me throw you out on your bony arse, Nissa."
Nissa laughed. The pungent smell of whiskey worked its way toward Elmerah’s nostrils. “I’m your most loyal patron, Tully, and I swaddled you when you were but a mewling babe. You'll do no such thing.”
His face turned rubyfish red, but he straightened and backed away. “Have it your way, you old hag.” He headed further down the bar, no doubt intending to swindle other patrons.
Elmerah fished a silver gull from the pouch at her belt, then held it up. “Isara?”
Nissa grinned, crinkling the slight lines on her face. “You’ll find her out at Ravenstooth Farm. She works there for room and board.”
Elmerah could have kissed Nissa if she didn't smell so awful. Perhaps their search could finally come to an end. She held the coin up, but slightly out of reach. “Anything else you can tell us about her?”
Nissa eyed the coin greedily. “Well, she’s mad as a whipfish, for starters. Goes around talking about demons and curses.”
Elmerah glanced at Alluin to see his brow wrinkled in concern. While she was turned away, Nissa snatched the gull from her fingertips, faster than she seemed.
She turned back to Nissa with a smirk. "Enjoy your drink, Nissa. My thanks for the information."
She turned back to Alluin. “Shall we?”
He raised a brow. “You want to go to the farm tonight?”
“Don't you?”
“I suppose so,” he laughed.
She leaned her back against the bar. “What’s so damned funny?”
He grinned. “Ravenstooth farm. Ravens don’t have teeth.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you drunk?”
He laughed again, then pushed away from the bar. “It’s been a long day.”
She followed after him back toward Saida and Malon. “An especially long day for someone who’s afraid of spiders.”
“I told you that in confidence,” he chided. “Now shut up.”
She shut up, but couldn't help her grin as they reached the table and looked down at Alluin and Saida. “It seems we're in luck. Let’s go.”
Alluin
The night was clear and quiet as they reached the top of the steep incline leadin
g to Ravenstooth farm. Alluin hoped it was Ravenstooth farm. The barkeep hadn't been terribly pleased with them. He could have easily given them false directions. They'd left the horses stabled at the local inn in favor of traveling the rocky path to the modest farmstead on foot.
A few chickens clucked in their coop as the four of them passed, Elmerah and Saida leading the way, with Alluin and Malon bringing up the rear. Malon had of course argued against visiting the farmstead at night, but where Saida went, he went, so he had little choice. Alluin, however, preferred the more secretive meeting to escape the notice of any spies Egrin might have in the area. If Egrin knew they were after Isara, he’d likely eliminate her.
“Why would the cousin of the emperor stay here?” Malon asked, his reflective eyes scanning the main house, not far ahead. “Surely she can afford more suitable lodgings.”
Alluin’s eyes followed the lines of moonlight glinting at the roof’s edge. It needed to be rethatched, and he doubted the rickety plank walls held back the cold. The exterior hearthfire casting a gentle glow on the haystacks would need to remain lit day and night just to ward away winter's breath. It was all rather . . . modest, for the emperor’s cousin.
“I take it you never met her then?” Alluin asked Malon.
Malon shook his head. “No. I saw her scurrying about the Faerune libraries a time or two, but she mostly kept to herself. Odd girl.”
Remembering Nissa's words, Alluin squirmed. Neither he nor Elmerah had mentioned the drunken elf's comments to Saida and Malon. If Isara was as mad as Nissa seemed to think, everything they'd sacrificed might be for naught.
Elmerah and Saida, having reached the house, turned back to them. Elmerah cleared her throat expectantly.
He felt even more squirmy under her scrutinizing gaze. He was the one who'd led them all on this wild hunt. If Isara could not be used . . .
Curse of the Akkeri Page 10
