The Questing Game

by James Galloway

  That damned Were-cat. She should have killed him when she had the chance. He had screwed everything up. But no, she had to let him live, because she liked him. And after he destroyed the stadium, then it was too late to do anything more to him.

  And that reason stood behind her.

  The figure even gave her the creeps, and that was no minor complement. It was a single figure, tall and lithe, completely covered by a deep black cloak, a cloak that seemed to shift and move of its own volition, as if it were alive. A cloak that hid the figure's features in a dark shadow, making it seem that the wearer of the cloak was nothing but a shade of the cloak itself.

  Shiika had been around a very long time. She had seen this figure before, and she was afraid. She knew just who and what it was. Who she was.

  Her name was Spyder. At least that was what she called herself. She was a legendary figure, living for thousands of years, a nearly mythical being who had had a hand in the Blood War, who had had a hand in many historical events since then. She dwelled on the continent of Sharadar, in an inaccessible region between two towering mountain ranges, known only as Haven. She was reputed to be the most powerful being on the planet, a magician whose power was unrivalled.

  After what Shiika had seen that day, she would like to bet on just who held that title now.

  Some called her the Aleax, the Avenger, the mortal whose duty it was to do the dirty work of the gods on Sennadar. Others called her the Gatekeeper, the defender of the world's only active magical gateway that allowed a native being off the world and into the rest of the multiverse. To others, she was the Guardian, a solitary figure who had defended the unknown, legendary regions of Haven from all incursion by the outside. Shiika knew this woman. She knew that Spyder was all three of those things. And she was a being to fear.

  She shivered her wings again, looking out towards the city. "You owe me for this, woman," she said hotly, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. "That Were-cat did serious damage."

  "It is nothing you cannot overcome," came the reply. The words were sharp, succinct, each one pronounced with utter perfection before moving on to the next.

  "He stripped magic from the Palace. He killed the Emperor! Do you have any idea how long it's going to take me to fix all this?"

  "Then do not complain. After all, you can fix it, can you not?"

  She snorted. "It's the principle of the matter. I really put my neck out for you, Spyder. If you hadn't have interfered, I could have gotten the book and hidden it again before he got to it. It's what you charged me to do in the first place. And then you come along and tell me not to interfere!"

  "It was necessary."

  "Damn your necessity!" she snapped, whirling on the cloaked figure, a hand balled into a fist before her. "Look at what he did to my city! I'm starting to get very tired of your flipflopping, Spyder! You bring me the book and tell me to hide it, to guard it, then you stop me from doing what you told me to do in the first place!"

  "Your continued existence on this world is by my suffrance, Demon," she said in an icy voice. "I could have banished you a millenia ago. But I did not. Because it was necessary. You have your own part to play in this, just as I. Just as he. And you have fulfilled part of it."

  "Part of it?"

  "Part. Your hand has not been completely drawn yet, Shiikarathnezera," she said calmly, using the Demon's True Name, a name that could be used to control her, even destroy her. "You will be called upon again. Be ready."

  "As soon as I fix this mess," she snorted, turning her back to the enigmatic figure again. "That damned kid. It's going to take me years to straighten things out."

  "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Answer me honestly. Do you truly hate him for what he has done?"

  Shiika was silent a moment, then she laughed ruefully. "Yes and no," she answered truthfully. "I'm certainly not happy about this," she grunted, motioning towards the city, "but I have to admit, I'm impressed. He took everything my minions could dish out. He even killed a Glabrezu! And he did it, he got the book. I have to admire his spunk, if anything else. That kid just doesn't know when to quit."

  "Then you have learned a valuable lesson, Shiika. Not everyone is as they seem. Not even you."

  Shiika was quiet a moment. "What do you get out of all this, Spyder? I'm sure you have something to do with it, and it's not like you to do something without some gain in it somewhere. It's not your style."

  "What I get out of it?" she asked in reply. There was a long silence. "I do get something out of this, Shiika. Something you will never understand."

  "What?"

  "Peace."

  Shiika turned around suddenly, ready to demand an explanation for that strange answer, but Spyder was gone.

  "Hmph," she snorted, turning back around. There were some people around here that weren't want they seemed alright, and it wasn't her or the Were-cat.

  What a mess.

  Sighing, Shiika turned and started inside. She wasn't giving up her Palace this time. There was nothing that said an Empress couldn't take the throne. She'd been interested in taking a more active role in the ruling of what she considered to be her Empire anyway. Maybe Spyder was right. Maybe there was more to her, more to this, than there seemed to be. Maybe even some good could come of it.

  Anything was possible. She was certainly proof of that.

  Strange neighbors.

  Garyth Longshank, cobbler of Aldreth and the village mayor, trudged carefully through the forests west of the village in the misty autumn morning, his destination not far ahead of him. He walked along an old cart trail, overgrown and ragged now that nobody really used it anymore, a trail that led out to the old Kael farm. A farm that had been abandoned for a while, when Tarrin left for the Tower, and his parents and sister packed up to go see him, and never returned. They'd sent back a letter to him, asking him to pack up all their things and store them in the village until they returned, that they were going to Ungardt for a while to see Elke's kin there. They were greatly missed in the village. Eron's arrows were used by nearly everyone, and the ale and brandy he brewed left just about everyone in the village with an aching hole in his belly. What was left was prized, treasured, kept in storage and only brought out for the most important occasions. Elke wasn't really missed, but the others didn't understand her. Well, they certainly didn't understand the ones that had taken over the overgrown Kael farm, cleaned it up and made it a livable place once again. Strange neighbors.

  They had been there for a while now, about two months. At least he figured it was about that long, because there was no way to know. Nobody went out there, nobody visited, because they all knew who they were.

  Forest Folk.

  The Forest Folk had been visiting Aldreth for a long time now. The people of Aldreth accepted them without much fuss, offering them quality goods at fair prices, as they would do for any neighbor. The people of Aldreth accepted their business, but never talked to them that much, since they were all fairly closed-mouthed and standoffish. The fact that they knew Forest Folk visited didn't bother people, but to know where a few of them were living now, that scared them. They weren't in the Frontier anymore, they were starting to settle on what they considered the human side of the line separating Sulasia from the Frontier. Their presence, when it was noticed by some kids playing in the woods out that way, sent a storm of worry through the Aldreth folk. They had enough to worry about as it was, with the Goblinoids and the Dal armies that were marching around.

  Garyth had had to almost preach to them, reminding them that it was the Forest Folk that had caused the Dal armies to pass them up. Oh, there was a garrison of them in Aldreth, twenty of them, but they didn't bother the villagers. The villagers didn't cause trouble. They just did what they did, and they didn't need all that much supervision. They certainly weren't going to revolt or do anything foolish. So long as they were left alone, things were fine. After all, the Dals wouldn't occupy them forever. Things would go back to normal with time, and the people of Aldreth were a
rather patient lot. There had been Goblinoids at first, a large group of them that burned houses and terrorized the villagers, had even killed a few people. But then they simply began to die. One by one at first, then they started dying off in absolute droves. They were all found ripped up, beheaded, torn apart, and the signs were that great beasts were the ones attacking the Goblinoids. Everyone knew that the Goblinoids were terrified of the Frontier, and it wasn't much of a leap to realize that the Forest Folk had taken serious exception to the foul beasties being so close to their territory. After a few hundred of them died, the Dals moved them out, and moved themselves out to boot. They only left that small garrison of second-rate soldiers, men more interested in their tankards than their duties. Although the loss of five villagers to the bloodthirsty pack was a serious blow to the small, tight-knit community, at least the Forest Folk had driven them away before anyone else died.

  Garyth wasn't all that sure that they should be afraid of these two. He had watched them for a month now, always being careful never to disturb or upset them, keeping his distance, trying to stay inobtrusive. As village mayor, it was his job to make sure everything was alright with these two, and in a strange way, he worried about them. It was a lone female with a baby, but she looked anything but feminine. She was very, very tall, taller than Tarrin himself, with strange white fur on her arms and legs, big hands and feet that had claws on them, a tail of all things, and triangular, white furry ears poking out of her wild red mane. He never got that close, but even from a distance he could see that she was very pretty. He worried that she lived alone with her baby, a baby he had only seen once, but he was certain that she could protect it. She was femininely shaped, curvy and lithe, but he'd seen her pick up an old wagon by the back axle and drag it from the barn to the woodshed. That woman was strong! He'd watched her for a while, and she never did anything threatening or dangerous. She just lived there with her baby. It was that simple. She raised some vegetables, and the mother would go out about once every six or seven days and hunt, carrying the infant on her back in a little sling. Aside from that, she never left the farm. She rarely left the house.

  He'd only seen that baby girl once, what looked to be about a yearling, with white fur like her mother and strawberry blond hair. The old Kael farm was a good place for her to raise this baby, since it was close to the human luxuries she could get from Aldreth, it was still right on the Frontier, which would give her protection from her own kind, and the farm was a big place with lots of room. He had no idea why she had come here, why she didn't stay in the Frontier. Perhaps she was thrown out. Perhaps she lost her husband, and moved away because the memory of him was too much.

  He really didn't know. But he worried about them anyway. He knew he probably didn't have to do it, but he considered these strangers part of the village, since they were living on the old Kael farm.

  He certainly hoped they left before Eron and Elke came back. Things would get ugly if Elke found squatters in her home. And he wasn't about to tell them that they were on someone else's land. He wouldn't do anything to make those two mad.

  Her presence had upset the village for a while, but they had come to accept the woman's presence with an uneasiness. They forbade the village children from going there, which of course caused them all to just rush over and see for themselves. It had become something of a game of daring for them now, to see who would go furthest into the old farm's land, who would get the closest. From what he heard, Jale Strongoak had went so far as to go into the restored barn, before something spooked him and sent him running in panic.

  This day was going to be different. He was carrying a plate of his wife's sweetrolls, and he had no intention of hiding today. It was time to face them, to meet the neighbors. His need to know had overridden his fear of this exotic neighbor, and he thought it was very unneighborly for them to treat the woman like a pariah. If she was brave enough to live on the old farm, then the villagers should be brave enough to take her in.

  And so, Garyth Longhshank marched diligently up the old, weed-choked cart path, a plate of cooling sweetrolls in his hands and a resolute look on his face.

  His resolve wavered a bit when he made the last turn and found himself facing the farm. It was as he remembered it, except that the months of neglect showed on the buildings that the new tenant didn't use. Instead of keeping up the second barn and the brewhouse, she was simply letting them fall down, but the house itself and the barn she did use were well maintained, clean, neat, and even painted. There were no chickens, no livestock to go with the small vegetable patch not far off from the front porch. That made things seem more out of place.

  Swallowing, gathering his courage, Garyth walked into the field holding the farmstead and made his way to the house. He had been in there many times, and he was curious to see how the woman had changed it. He stepped up onto the porch, jumping slightly when the board creaked under him, gritting his teeth as if it would bring Death Herself down on his head. There was an immediate sound from inside, and before he could get to the door to knock, it swung open.

  He was awestruck. To see her from a distance was nothing compared to looking up at her so closely! She was so tall! So very tall! And she was beautiful! She had the prettiest face, with strange green eyes that had vertically slitted pupils, like a cat, her expression one of sober interest. He stared up at her for a long moment, unable to speak, then he found his breath and exhaled sharply. "M-Madam," he said uncertainly. "My name is, uh, Garyth. Garyth Longshank. I'm the village mayor. May I speak with you?"

  She was quiet a long moment, then she snorted. "I wondered when you'd muster the nerve to stop sneaking around like a rat," she told him in a powerful voice.

  "Madam?"

  "You've been crawling around here for a month now, human," she told him. "Watching me. I realized you weren't trying to mess with me. You were just watching. So I didn't do anything about you."

  Garyth swallowed. He was rather sure he didn't want to know what do anything about you really meant. "Uh, yes, well," he chuckled nervously, "I certainly didn't realize you knew. I would have stopped if it bothered you. And I was just making sure everything was alright with you. As you know, you're living very close to us, and I've been worried for you. What, with all those Goblinoids that were here and all."

  "That's very thoughtful. What are you carrying? Sweets? I smell honey and bread in there, and nuts."

  "My wife Mara's sweetrolls," he offered, holding them out. "I know we're dreadfully overdue to welcome you to the village, but better late than never."

  She looked down at him steadily for a long moment. "Come in," she said, stepping away from the door and turning around. He found his eyes locking on her posterior. Not because he admired her backside, but because of the sinuous, furry tail that sprouted from above it, what looked like a white snake writhing behind her, moving with her harmoniously as she walked.

  She had done very little to the house, he saw. She had cleaned up the timber walls, and the hearth had been restoned, and she had very little furniture. All of it looked to be made by her, but it was solidly constructed and was very handsome. She could be quite a carpenter. The main room of the cottage held only a single wooden chair near the fireplace, a table with three chairs beneath it, a fourth chair, a high-chair for a baby, and a woven basket by that chair near the fireplace that held some kind of knitting or needlework. Sitting at the table, in the high chair, was what looked to be a toddler, a year old or so, a darling little girl with her mother's face, her mother's fur, and strawberry blond hair. She had the most precious green eyes, also like a cat's. The mother motioned for him to sit, which he did, setting the tray down before him.

  "Mama?" she called curiously.

  "My daughter, Jasana," she said brusquely, sitting at the table.

  "My, what a lovely child," Garyth smiled at her, waving to her. "Her ears are adorable." He reached out to her as she reached out to him, reflexively.

  "I wouldn't do that," the mother said calmly
. "She'll rip off your fingers."

  Garyth snatched his hand back so quickly it made the little girl blink in confusion. "Pardon me, madam, but what is your name?"

  "Jesmind," she replied evenly.

  "Jesmind. A lovely name, if a bit unusual. I've never heard its like."

  "It's an old Torian name. It means 'jewel.' My mother gets exotic when she names her kids," she said dryly.

  "Well, mothers tend to be like that," Garyth chuckled. "I know you know I'm curious, so I'll be to the point. Why have you come to Aldreth, mistress Jesmind? Surely living in the Frontier would be better for you. You are isolated here."

  "She's why," Jesmind said, jerking her thumb at her daughter. "I wanted her to know where her father came from."

  That made Garyth blink. "I, I don't know of any other Forest Folk that live in Aldreth, mistress Jesmind."

  "Oh, you know her father, human," Jesmind said bluntly. "A boy named Tarrin."

  Garyth gaped at her. "You mean--"

  "Things are different for him now, human," she said calmly. "I'm a Were-cat. A Lycanthrope. I'm sure you've heard the myths."

  He nodded dumbly.

  "Well, some of them are true. Tarrin is a Were-cat now. I won't go into the details of how it happened. Truth be told, it was just a big huge accident. But him and me, we had what you may call a relationship. Jasana here is the result. I wanted her to know her father, to understand him, so I brought her here, so she could grow up where he grew up."

  Garyth stared at her. She said it with such sincerity, with hidden emotion. This relationship must have been intense, for he could see that she held powerful feelings for the Kael boy. A Were-cat! Poor Tarrin! But then again, it explained the weird wording of the letters that Eron sent back to him, evasive and vague, only saying that Tarrin had had some serious personal problems, problems that required them to stay with him for a while.