The Wizard's Gambit

by Kylie Betzner

“Wait. You were just looking at them?”

  Grrargh nodded. “I liked the birds.”

  Tikaani glanced down at her amulet. Because of its shape, it could only be used to summon wolves. But there were other ways to summon animals, or so Granny Chulyin had taught her. She pursed her lips and whistled.

  Something fluttered high in the treetops.

  She blew out a little tune, and soon the branches were filled with birds, so many, in fact, that some of them had nowhere else to perch other than on Grrargh. He bared his terrible fangs in what Tikaani realized was not a snarl but a smile.

  The landscape was shifting. Littlehammer was sure of it after stumbling over yet another raised root. Up ahead, Laerilas continued, unhindered by the terrain. There was no doubt in her mind that this was his doing. Maybe he was trying to lose her—or perhaps he was setting a trap for her. Regardless, she kept a watchful eye on him.

  He waited for her in a small clearing. When she caught up, he quickly moved some leaves over their tracks. Littlehammer gave him a suspicious look.

  “Plannin’ oan hidin’ a body?”

  “No,” he said, bringing down more leaves and directing their fall. “I’m covering our tracks.”

  “Wa ur ye daein’ ’at?”

  He stared at her. “Because we’re being followed.”

  “Followed?” She glanced behind them. As far as she could see, there was no one. “Ur ye sure?”

  “Yes,” he said, making a few final touches before moving on.

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know.” He dabbed the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

  Littlehammer thought he looked pale—paler than usual. His magic must be taking a toll on him. Good.

  “Sae yoo’re sayin’ it cood be anybody?”

  He nodded.

  “Mah brother, e’en?”

  “Perhaps,” he admitted reluctantly.

  “’En whit’re ye daein’ wi’ aw those leaves? Let’s go back an’ gie heem!”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.

  Littlehammer frowned. “An’ wa nae? He’s mah brother. He’s family. But ye daen’t caur. Ye huvnae got a family, hae ye? An’ e’en if ye did, th’ only one ye caur abit is yerself.”

  “Is that so?” He turned to face her. “Then why am I even in this group? Huh? Because if I’m as selfish as you claim, I never would have risked my life for Mongrel’s. I’ve lost everything. Don’t you speak to me of loyalty when you’ve done nothing to prove yours!”

  “Is ’at sae?” Littlehammer squared up to him as best she could. She puffed up her chest and fixed on him with a scowl. But when she opened her mouth, the words didn’t come. For once she didn’t know what to say. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, but some squeaky voice inside her head told her he might be right.

  Huffing, she stormed away and took refuge beside a giant stone slab. The feel of it reminded her of home. Tears stung her eyes, and she hurriedly wiped them away as the elf came to stand beside her.

  “You miss them, don’t you?” he asked. His voice was softer. “Your mother and your . . . brothers.”

  “Brother,” she corrected him. “Ah’ve only got th’ one noo coz ay ye.”

  “Because of me? If you hadn’t—”

  He took a deep breath and sat down beside her. Even seated, he was still taller than her by several inches. She sat up straight, but it made little difference.

  He cleared his throat. “Contrary to what you might think, I know how you feel. I had a family once, a mother and a father like you. When my parents died, my grandfather took me in. But now he’s gone, too, and here I am completely alone.”

  “An’ exiled,” she reminded him.

  “That too.”

  “Wait a second.” Littlehammer stroked her chin thoughtfully. “Whit abit ’at bonnie princess ay yoors?”

  “Oh yes, her.” Laerilas cringed. “To be honest, she was never anything more to me than a stepping stone to a higher position. At first, I thought I’d grow to love her, but after spending some time with her, well, let’s just say I got more than I’d bargained for.”

  “Weel, if ye ask me, ye got whit ye deserved.”

  “I didn’t ask you,” he said. “But you’re right. I did. If I had just listened to my grandfather—or Mongrel—I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  “Mebbe Ah, too, shood hae listened tae Mongrel,” she admitted after some thought. “Mah brother wood still be alife.”

  “If only we’d listened to Mongrel.” He gave a wry smile. “Not that all of his suggestions are good ones. This one time, he convinced me to wear a brown belt with black boots. Can you imagine?”

  “Ach, ’at’s naethin’ compared tae th’ trooble Mongrel used tae gie us intae. Thes one time, he talked me intae ridin’ an empty mine cart. Mah mummy was hotter than heated iron when she foond oot we’d bin playin’—nae workin’—in th’ mines. Ay coorse, ’at did nae stop heem frae wantin’ tae dae it again. Th’ rascal.”

  “Typical Mongrel,” Laerilas scoffed. “Once he gets an idea in his head, nothing can stop him.” He sighed. “Might as well just give up and join his cause.”

  “Attaboy, Longbow.” She slapped him on the back, almost toppling him over.

  “Laerilas,” he corrected her.

  “Larry-lass.” She grimaced. “Hoo abit Ah jist call ye Laeri?”

  “What?”

  “It’s whit Mongrel’s always callin’ ye,” she said. “It’s ’at ur Longbow.”

  He cringed at them both but conceded at last. “Laeri, it is.”

  “Attaboy, Laeri.” She gave him another hard slap on the back. He pitched forward. Laughing, she took him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back up. He offered her a smile—a slim one, but a smile nonetheless. Looking at him, with that thin smile and that thin face, she thought him the ugliest man she’d ever seen, but then she caught the color of his eyes, silver, like a polished stone or, well, silver. They reminded her of home.

  “Ye know somethin’, Laeri? Yoo’re nae so bad fer an elf.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I suppose that means a lot coming from a dwarf.”

  “It does,” she said, a little put off by his comment—that, and the realization that she owed Mongrel money. If she remembered correctly, he’d betted one hundred gold coins that she and her brothers could get along with an elf if they’d give one a chance. If only she’d never betted against him.

  She turned to Laerilas. “Ye wooldnae happen tae hae a hundred gold peices oan ye, wood ye, Laeri?”

  “Gold? What’s that?”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Ye know. Gold. It’s shiny an’ yella’ an’—”

  “Oh, that?” He pointed upward. “Where I’m from, it’s called the sun.”

  “Weel, nae exactly,” she said, shielding her eyes as she turned her head up. Sure enough, it fit the description. She chuckled. “But yoo’re reit. It is gold.”

  While Littlehammer and Laerilas found common ground, Ajani was standing her ground against Mongrel, who’d suggested they change routes. After several minutes of fruitless argument, Mongrel was starting to lose his patience.

  “Come on, Ajani. We don’t have time to keep doing this,” he said, gesturing to the sky. The sun was at its zenith, which meant half the day was already gone. In a couple of hours, they would need to head back to camp.

  She snorted. “I’ve got time.”

  “Do you?” Mongrel asked her. “At this very moment, the rest of the competitors could be closing in on us, or worse, finding the hidden object.”

  “So what if they do?”

  “Do you really have to ask?”

  “And what if we find it? Then what?” she asked him. “I suppose you’d be the champion. How does that help me?”

  “Because I’m not in this for me,” he replied. “Remember, I’m here representing everyone, including you.”

  “So you say.”

  “Why don’t you trust me?�
�

  “Because I know what happens to men who get hold of power. They take it for themselves and forsake all others. And you’re no different than any other man.”

  “That’s not what you said the other day. Remember? You said I was unlike any man you’d ever met.”

  “Did I?” she cocked her head. “Then maybe I misspoke.”

  “And another thing: not every competitor here is a man. Do you honestly think Empress Eiko would be a gracious winner?”

  “Well, no,” she admitted. “But she’s not a woman like me.”

  “Oh yeah? Then tell me, what would you do if you won?”

  “I’d set things right, starting with the social inequalities that plague these kingdoms.”

  “And that’s exactly what I aim to do,” he said. “Can’t you look past our differences to see that you and I are in this for the same reason?”

  “Perhaps,” she conceded after some thought. “But how come you get to be the leader and not me?”

  “Because I started this group,” he told her. “I took in Tikaani and Littlehammer and Grrargh, and you agreed to join. If you want to lead a group, then start your own. Not sure who you’ll find to tag along, but that wouldn’t do us any good, because you and I are stronger together, Ajani, as a team.” He offered her his hand. “So what do you say? Are you with me?”

  “Well . . .”

  “Come on, Ajani.”

  “Why not?” She clasped his wrist firmly. He returned the gesture. Shaking hands must have been something they only did in the west. He released her wrist to clasp her shoulder.

  “Great, because we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

  It was well past sundown when Mongrel and his companions reconvened at the campsite. He was reluctant to return empty-handed, but Ajani convinced him to do so on the hope that one of the other groups might have found the ring. He was certainly disappointed to learn that no one had. But his disappointment waned when he observed the peaceful interactions of his group members. He could hardly believe his eyes. Ajani, who had said she wanted nothing to do with the group, roasted dinner over a small fire. Beside her, Tikaani leaned against one of her wolves and whistled over some birds for Grrargh to enjoy. And Laerilas, who was sitting surprisingly close to Littlehammer, taught Grrargh the names of the various birds. Grrargh attempted each name with difficulty before settling once again on calling them “pretty birds.”

  So much improvement since the day before. Seeing them so at peace with one another, Mongrel almost forgot the reason they were all out there in the first place until crack!

  At once, everyone fell silent.

  “What was that?” Tikaani sat up, startling her wolves. They raised their hackles and flattened their ears to their heads. Her hand hovered near the amulet.

  “Don’t know,” said Mongrel in a low voice. He scanned the darkness but saw nothing. Not that this assuaged his fears. The darkness was thick as tar—anything could be hiding out there. Or anyone.

  “Do you think it’s one of the competitors?” Ajani asked him, coming beside him. Her spear was in hand. “Mongrel?”

  “Can’t say,” he said and gulped at the sound of crunching leaves. “I sure hope not.”

  Ajani raised her spear. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

  They waited with baited breath while the sounds grew closer. Was it Kavik and his tribesmen? Battleaxe? Gwyn and his remaining guardsmen? Whoever it was, Mongrel doubted their encounter would be a pleasant one.

  His heart leapt as Eiko’s daughters stepped out of the darkness and into the campfire’s flickering light. He breathed a sigh of relief and motioned for his group to lower their weapons. Littlehammer kept hers raised.

  “Ur ye daft, laddie?”

  “It’s all right, Littlehammer; they’re not competitors.”

  “Ah daen’t caur,” she said. “Ah will nae pit doon mah weapon. Nae ’til they teel us whit they’re daein’ oot haur.”

  “Don’t be like that, Littlehammer—”

  Ajani cut in. “I agree with the dwarf. We need to take precautions.”

  Mongrel searched the faces of his group. By their wide-eyed expressions, it was obvious they’d already reached a consensus.

  “All right,” he said. “We’ll play it safe.” He turned to Eiko’s daughters. “Please have a seat by the fire. Help yourselves to some meat.”

  “Thank you,” said one.

  “No thank you,” said the other.

  “All right then.” Mongrel seated himself opposite Etsuko—or Etsuyo. He couldn’t tell them apart. At the moment, it didn’t matter. “So, I have to know. What are you two doing out here? I thought your mother was the one competing?”

  “She withdrew from the competition,” said the first. “We are taking her place.”

  “Yes, we are taking her place,” echoed her sister.

  “I see.” Mongrel nodded, letting that information sink in. Then he asked, “Will you be competing by yourselves?”

  The first answered “yes,” and the second answered “no.”

  It seemed they could not agree on a single thing. Mongrel could only hope his next question wouldn’t end in an argument. “Have you thought about joining our group? We could all search together. Strength in numbers.”

  “We would be honored to join your group.”

  “We would sooner die than join your group.”

  Mongrel blinked. “Okay, which is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Yes!”

  “No!”

  Mongrel watched, dumbfounded, as the girls shouted back and forth across the campfire. When they started pulling out hairpins, he decided it was time to intercede.

  “All right, girls, that’s enough!” He wedged himself between them, pushing them apart. “Arguing won’t help you reach an agreement. You should know that by now.”

  “Then what do you propose we do?” Asked the friendlier of the two.

  “Well, have you ever considered splitting up?” he asked them. “Since you can’t reach an agreement, it’s the most logical—”

  “Never!” they said in unison. At least they agreed on something.

  “Then you’re going to have to make a decision—I’ve got it! Pick a number between one and ten. Whoever guesses correctly gets to choose whether you both join our group or attack it.”

  “Uh, Mongrel.” Ajani tapped him on the shoulder. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.” He turned back to the sisters. “Ready? Etsuyo, you pick first.”

  “Five,” said the standoffish one.

  “Three,” said the friendlier of the two.

  “Three it is!” Mongrel said to the satisfaction of one and the dissatisfaction of the other. “Welcome to the group!”

  As the girls settled in, Ajani leaned in and whispered, “Are you sure it was a good idea to let them join our group? I mean, the one—”

  “Etsuko.”

  “Yes, that one. She seems all right, but I don’t trust the other—”

  “Etsuyo.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Relax, Ajani.” Mongrel placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  On cue, Laerilas stood up and peered into the darkness. His eyes glowed eerily in the moonlight, reminding Mongrel that elves had exceptional senses, especially sight.

  “Do you see something?” Mongrel asked him.

  “There’s someone out there.” Laerilas reached for his bow and quiver.

  “Let’s check it out,” Mongrel suggested to the elf’s chagrin, and together they ventured into the darkness.

  Stumbling around in the dark, Mongrel listened for Laerilas’ footfalls, but there were none. Mongrel gripped the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white.

  “Laerilas,” he hissed. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He swept a hand across his brow. “Laeri?”

  A crackling sound be
hind him caused him to jump. Before he could determine the source of the sound, a hand covered his mouth. Holding back a scream, Mongrel started to unsheathe his blade when another hand wrapped around his and forced the blade back into the sheath.

  “Calm yourself. It’s just me,” Laerilas whispered in his ear. He was standing directly behind Mongrel. “I’m going to release you now.”

  Mongrel uttered a muffled agreement before Laerilas removed his hand. Sagging against a tree trunk, Mongrel let out a huge breath.

  “Coward.” Laerilas laughed. “I never would have thought you, of all people, would be afraid of the dark.”

  “Who’s afraid ay th’ dark?” a woman’s voice asked from behind them.

  Shrieking, Laerilas jumped into Mongrel’s arms.

  “Laerilas, it seems,” said Mongrel, pushing the elf away as Littlehammer joined up with them.

  Littlehammer chuckled. “A wee bit ay dark ne’er hurt anyain. It’s too much light whit’s bad fer ye. Troost me. Mah uncle—wait, whit’s ’at o’er thaur?” She pointed at a cluster of trees. Within them, something was glowing.

  “It’s the reason we’re out here,” said Mongrel. “Laerilas thinks there might be someone hiding back there.”

  “Is ’at sae?” Littlehammer peered through the darkness. “Let’s check it oot.”

  Laerilas made a pained expression. “Do we have to?”

  “Daen’t be such a wuss.” Littlehammer took him by the wrist and dragged him along. Mongrel walked ahead, slowly, careful not to startle whoever it was hiding in the trees. All the while, he watched the light flicker on and off, until eventually it went out. By the time he got there, the source of the light was gone.

  “I don’t understand,” he said. “It was here a second ago.”

  Littlehammer shrugged. “Must hae buggered aff.”

  “Not possible.” Mongrel shook his head. “We would have heard it.”

  “Ur ye sayin’ they’ve gone invisible?”

  “No, obviously. But maybe they’re just hiding behind—”

  “Does anyone else detect an odor?” Laerilas asked.

  Mongrel sniffed the air. A rancid odor filled his nostrils.

  “It’s foul, isn’t it?” Mongrel asked him. “What do you think it is?”