Path of the Traitors

by Charles E Yallowitz

  Trinity is forced into a creaky chair that quivers beneath her weight and leaves splinters in her bare arms. She watches Quail and Nimby get taken away by a group of gnomes, the mapper refusing to look in her direction. The flash of a grin on the halfling’s face gives her hope that they will remain safe and make progress while they are separated. Faking a cough, she spits an invisible dart of magic at Quail’s ear, which he scratches as if reacting to a bug bite. With her own tracking spell in place and her companions no longer in danger, Trinity relaxes and calmly waits for an opportunity to escape. Her heart sinks immediately when a long line grows in front of her, every person excited to face their enemy.

  “I sense a lot of awkward conversations in my future,” the channeler mutters with a nervous chuckle. A young woman steps up and spits in Trinity’s face, the foamy projectile hitting her square in the nose. “And spit. Definitely going to be gallons of that.”

  *****

  The desolate Frost Barrens give the pair a sense of isolation that the silence makes even more crushing. Quail kicks at rocks and pulls his fraying cloak tight around him, the garment smelling like the drunk dwarf who gave it to him. He glances at Nimby, who is trudging next to him, the halfling looking hopeful that they are about to start speaking at any moment. To the thief’s dismay, the chaos elf goes back to examining the map and making adjustments that are nothing more than moving an inch or two to the side. The few animals that they encounter are lean and boney herbivores that are able to sprint away at alarming speed. It is not until night has entirely fallen that the pair stop to make a small camp that is nothing more than a green fire and two bedrolls that were obviously made for orcs.

  “I’d throw you some food, but I can’t see you,” Nimby says, the colorful fire making it difficult for his eyes to adjust. He takes a bite of his last fruit from the clouds, the food already losing its flavor in the lower altitude. “So, where is the map taking us? There isn’t anything out here. If any civilizations existed in the Frost Barrens then they’re long dead and their cities have crumbled into dust. On the other hand, we already went into the sky, so the next part can be deep underground. Going from one extreme to the other makes sense.”

  “Do you think she meant what she said?” Quail asks, a wave of unease causing him to slide further into his bedroll. A single star appears above them, its light shining on a hill to their left before it vanishes. “It was so harsh and mean. The expression on her face was serious, so I don’t know what to think.”

  “Your whining makes me sick,” Vile spits from where he is sitting. With no desire or need for sleep, the figurine casts his red-eyed gaze in search of danger. “Trinity is powerful and smart, which makes her a great fighter. She is also sentimental and willing to sacrifice herself in the name of her people. That leads to foolish actions such as making her enemies believe that you are nothing more than a pitiful outcast. It would have been easier for her to lay waste to that sad excuse for an army, but instead she acted heroically and focused on saving you.”

  With a yawn, Nimby sits up and pinches his cheek to avoid falling asleep. “I agree that she was rather cruel, but I think she had to be. You’re a chaos elf and those warriors were out for blood. They would have killed you alongside her if they thought you were important. At least that’s what I’m guessing. We can’t dwell on that since Trinity is expecting us to continue with the map. Knowing her highness, I’m sure she’ll find a way out of trouble and meet up with us before long. Not sure how she’ll do it, but I have faith in her. So, where are we going and is there a way to leave a trail?”

  “Just like that, I’m supposed to forget what she said and get back to business?” the young chaos elf asks, his hands gripping the map. Focusing on the flames, he tries to put Trinity’s words out of his mind, but they refuse to disappear. “She did have a point. I’m only a chaos elf by birth. The culture and traditions of my people are as foreign to me as they would be to all of you. More so since you’ve spent more time on Shayd than me. Even if the Queen said what she said to protect me, it is the truth. Every time I’ve interacted with another chaos elf, there has been a gap that neither of us could explain. We were the same, but different. This is the reason I haven’t joined the others in the Stone Asp Mountains.”

  “So, why did you agree to help if you don’t feel like a chaos elf?”

  “Because it’s an honor to help my Queen.”

  “Said without hesitation, which makes me think you’re more chaos elf than you think.”

  “It isn’t the same. I lack the cunning and mental toughness of my brethren.”

  “Never too late to develop those. Now, let’s see where we’re going because I really want to get some sleep.”

  Quail slides out of his bedroll and walks around the fire to sit next to Nimby, his stomach rumbling before he can speak. He searches his pockets for food and comes up with a piece of jerky that smells edible. The halfling snatches the suspicious meat and tosses it into the fire, which turns red until the rotten piece is consumed. Quail accepts a slice of fruit and meticulously licks his fingers clean to avoid getting even a drop of juice on the map. He pulls a box out of his pocket and opens it to release a thumb-sized orb of light that works better than the sickeningly green flames. Casting a brief spell, a small tower rises from the parchment and the Elven word for ‘truth’ appears around its base.

  “This has to be the Library of Gar, which is known only to the Knowledge Lord’s most trusted followers,” Quail explains while spreading his fingers to show the distance they have to cover. An itch on the back of his neck causes him to pause, but the sensation disappears before he can scratch. “Judging from these drawings, the library is between the Frost Barrens and the Crysvale Tundra. Probably right on the border, which is known to be unstable and plagued by violent snowstorms. Since the map doesn’t show me more than our destination and a few terrain markers, I can’t be exact. Going by the traditions, we will have to get an object or some information to help us continue. The library priests can guide us.”

  “Unless they refuse to let outsiders onto their holy ground,” the Lich points out, earning a snort of amusement from Vile. Snapping his fingers, the necrocaster strengthens the fire and creates a circle around them for extra protection. “Fine, I won’t be pessimistic. I’m sure the mapmaker wouldn’t send us to a place that’s inaccessible. Then again, it doesn’t hurt to consider ways to sneak in or storm the building.”

  “We are not going to attack a bunch of priests, especially since these would include some of Gar’s elite followers,” Vile says to the surprise of everyone. The figurine stabs the ground with his toothpick, the metal coming out damp from the thawing soil. “Two of us are undead and there’s no telling what they would do to our hosts. The mapper is useless in a fight since he’s only had ten minutes of training. No scenario can see us winning, especially if we try to be nice and avoid casualties.”

  Quail wipes a tear from his cheek as he returns to his bedroll and crawls inside to find it warmer than before. “I wish Queen Trinity was here. Her magic would see us through to a victory.”

  “I want her here too,” declares a voice from inside Quail’s bedroll.

  The chaos elf tries to scramble out of the bag, but it tightens around his body and stands him on his head. Black and white ooze flows out of the opening, the slime leaving kiss marks on the young man’s face as it passes. Instead of rising from the puddle, Yola jumps out of the fire and keeps the flames in place of her hair. Picking up the ooze, she shakes it clean and puts the liquid on like it is a jacket that is the same shade as her skin. The immortal turns Quail over and bends him into the form of a chair before taking a seat. Feeling the mapper’s sweat fall on her back, she realizes that the fiery hair is probably too much. She wipes the spell off her head and returns it to the pit while her emerald tresses sprout from her glossy scalp.

  “So, where’s my best friend?” Yola asks as she leans back. Feeling Quail’s clenched fists against her back, she does h
er best to fluff him like a pillow. “There’s nothing to worry about this time. I brought a salad to go with her and a copy of the resurrection spell that I made all by myself. Nice and fancy, which should appeal to her being a Queen. If that’s not enough then I can get an expensive cake that tastes like feet too.”

  “Even though it was explained to me, I still don’t understand what you’re up to,” the Lich admits after putting Nimby to sleep. Standing in front of the former goddess, he finds that being in the fleshy body of a halfling does not help him look intimidating. “If you eat her completely, like you want to, then that should include her aura and spirit. Devouring those means Trinity cannot be resurrected. That is how you bestow true death upon a person and I know of no way that can be reversed. Do you really want to do that?”

  “Oh, I plan on eating around that. I mean, it isn’t like the power I want is in . . . her . . . magic,” the immortal says, her voice turning into a whisper. Hopping off her chair, she walks around the camp at a speed that creates a circular furrow in the earth. “Well, I’m sure the rules are different for the gods. With Trinity’s power merged with mine, I can simply separate her from myself. If anything does go wrong then I can find another way. Creating life is what got me in trouble in the first place, so I can do it again. Not that all of those lycanthrope species bother to thank me or anything. The new Trinity will be just like the old one and I can give her the memories of the original since I’d have them in my own head. Maybe I’ll leave some of the embarrassing stuff out or have her forget Stephen. Oh, I can give her a tail and gills and wings and one of those things you find in taverns that give you alcohol.”

  “You plan on rebuilding your best friend and adding a beer tap,” the necrocaster mutters in disbelief. Unwilling to suffer alone, he returns control of their body to Nimby and goes back to resting in the bronze ring. “There’s no reasoning with you, so I’ll just tell you the facts and hope you go away. We ran into an army of people who blame Trinity for the death of their loved ones because she was the one responsible. They plan on executing her, but we all know she’ll escape and come back to us. I wouldn’t recommend attacking-”

  “Actually, that’s exactly what you should do,” Quail interrupts from inside his bedroll. He struggles to keep his face in the small opening since the bag is big enough to swallow him entirely. “Queen Trinity is in trouble and would appreciate you saving her. So much that she would definitely agree to your request. Even better, you can catch her by surprise since she won’t be expecting you. Just remember to yell that it’s a surprise and make a grand entrance, which includes standing still for at least two minutes. After all, you need to remember how to show off if you’re going to be a goddess again.”

  Yola spins around on the chaos elf’s lap and stares at him for a while before touching his cheek. “I’m not that stupid. You only yell about it being a surprise when it’s a surprise. An attack requires some intimidating announcement. Don’t you listen to bards and their lessons? They teach us how to be heroes and villains without all that messy reading, which makes my nose all drippy. Well, thank you for all of your help. Sorry that I couldn’t stay for very long, but I have a friend to save and eat. Dream of sweets.”

  With a sweep of her leg, the immortal knocks Quail to the ground and sends Nimby flying back into his bedroll. She stretches her arm to catch Vile and tucks him into a bed of moss that smells like compost. Blowing a kiss to each of the travelers, Yola backflips into the fire and stands there as if expecting to disappear. She eventually trudges out of the flames and kicks a large rock into the distance, the boulder’s loud thud echoing across the Frost Barrens. Lacking pockets, her hands slide into the skin on her hips while she walks into the darkness in search of Trinity.

  “You still awake, Quail?” Vile asks in a low whisper. He takes a muffled response as permission to keep talking, but nervously clears his throat for a minute. “This is hard for me to say, so don’t make a big deal of it. You said you lacked the cunning and mental toughness of a true chaos elf. Well, I think you just proved yourself wrong by manipulating a former goddess who can barely spell reality much less get along with it. Nice job for a spineless, overly emotional worm.”

  “Thanks,” the mapper says with a chuckle. “You three don’t think she’ll come after me because of this, do you? Guys? I know two of you don’t sleep, so what do you think? I’m dead, huh? Thought so.”

  *****

  Even in the gloom, Trinity knows something is wrong as soon as the sack is taken off her head. Sir Harbiss is nowhere to be seen and the lights of the camp are just over a trio of hills, leaving her alone with the four warriors who took her while she slept. Glancing over her shoulder, the chaos elf finds that she is only a few steps away from a pit that is filled with jagged rocks. Before she can turn back around, an armored fist strikes her in the stomach and sends her to the ground. Staying on her knees, Trinity rolls away from another attack, but the dodge leaves her open for a kick to the ribs. A stomp to the back crushes her against the cold dirt, which she softens with a spell to ease the pressure. Struggling to control her anger, lightning crackles around her body and drives the warriors back. The channeler hops to her feet in time to get struck in the chest by a magical orb, which paralyzes her. She attempts to undo the spell, but finds that it will not shatter and her aura refuses to absorb it.

  “I made that specifically for you,” a gnome says as she steps out from behind a leafless bush. Her dull green robe is covered with stains, each one with a unique and powerful stench that makes it difficult to remain near the woman. “Your attack on Nevra Coil killed four of my assistants. They were young and stood by me even though they saw voids. I know Sir Harbiss wants to do this execution in a noble and clean manner, but I don’t want to give you a chance to escape.”

  “Gnomes love illusions,” Trinity replies, forcing herself to think through the paralysis. It takes more effort than she would like to admit, but she hides the strain by laughing. “So, your plan was to drag me out here and beat me to death. Probably toss my body into this pit and make the others think I escaped. Only problem with that is they’d want to hunt me down and the chance of a predator eating my corpse before the search is rather slim. The Frost Barrens isn’t known for its wildlife.”

  “Actually, we planned on killing you and admitting to it,” a maul-wielding dwarf growls, his weapon slamming against the ground. He hefts the large hammer onto his shoulder and holds it as if ready to swing. “Let’s not give her any time to cast a spell. I remember how quickly she can use her magic, so no more talking.”

  The grinning warrior is stopped when a spear plunges into the dirt between his feet, the startled dwarf stumbling away. Noticing that the area is brighter than before, the small group turns around to see that the rest of the army has them partially surrounded. Torches and weapons are held high, but only Sir Harbiss is approaching to retrieve his spear. The knight remains between Trinity and the dwarf to prevent them from fighting, his steely eyes shifting from side to side. After a few minutes of silence, the four warriors return to the crowd and only the gnome stays behind to face their leader. She puts her hands in her pockets and draws six small discs, the sharp edges glinting in the light.

  “I suggest that you stand down,” Sir Harbiss says, his voice booming as if he is yelling over a battlefield. When one of the Gnomish throwing discs is hurled, he bats it out of the air and finds that it sticks in his spear’s shaft. “When you joined us, you agreed that we would get our revenge in an honorable way. She has heard our stories and we will execute her without making her suffer. This is a cleaner death than she gave to any of our loved ones. Now, go back to the crowd and get some rest, Matilda.”

  “I never wanted her to have a clean death!” the black-haired gnome shouts. Many in the crowd nod and whisper in agreement, but they refuse to break ranks. “You preach about us not becoming monsters like her. Always saying to never go down to her level or you’ll lose yourself in your anger. Well, I say we should
give in to our rage. It isn’t like we can become as horrible as the infamous Queen Trinity. The chaos elves were dangerous nuisances before she showed up and made them a cohesive force of pure evil. She corrupted her own people. Did you even hear what she said about the one she was with? This woman deserves to feel excruciating pain before she’s sent to the other side.”

  “Torturing her will not bring our loved ones back,” the knight calmly announces. Using his gauntlets, he blocks two more discs that remain lodged in the polished metal. “I would be lying if I said the idea of hurting her never crossed my mind. The temptation is strong, especially now that she is within reach. Yet, I refuse to go against my honor. One day, I will see my son again and I want to do so with my soul clean and pure. That is why I stop myself and why I will stand against you. All of you have trusted me for this long, so I ask that you continue to do so. Our journey will be over soon.”

  Trinity rubs her injured side as Matilda puts her weapons away, the chaos elf still feeling exposed and in danger. “That was very impressive. What were you before I made a mess of your life?”

  “A much happier man. Now-”

  The thundering impact of someone landing in the middle of the area nearly sends Sir Harbiss into the pit. He is caught and pulled back by Trinity, who casts a spell to protect Matilda from a large rock that is sailing towards her. The boulder shatters on the barrier and turns into a flock of bats that fly over the crowd. With a chorus of musical squeaks, the creatures return to the small crater and blow the dust away with their wings. Once she is revealed, Yola throws her arms open and waits for applause that never comes. Sighing and making a sputtering noise with her lips, the immortal casually kicks the terrified gnome over the army. They can hear the distant shattering of the shield spell, but everyone is too afraid to check on their ally’s condition. None of them can look away from the sight of Yola, who is the first deity that anyone in the crowd has ever seen in the flesh.