Summoner 2

by Eric Vall

  “Thanks, I hadn’t noticed.” He probably could have done without the sarcasm, but I was frustrated. I began to curse my luck and my tired legs when our luck took a dramatic turn for the better.

  Ahead of the bandits, there was the sudden flash and smoke of a summoned monster, but what appeared was nothing I’d ever seen before. The monster looked like a basilisk, a massive snake, but it glowed a brilliant white with glistening scales and magnificent white wings. It had little, segmented legs that jutted out of its body along its sides. Its head was a lot flatter and wider than most snakes, similar to a hyppocrans’ head, and it was eyeless.

  Was this one of Braden’s monsters? He’d certainly never mentioned anything like this. No, it couldn’t be, I would have seen his arm move, would have seen the crystal fly over my head. And strong as he was, I doubted he could throw it so far and so accurately.

  The bandit leader and his man skidded to a halt and looked up at the creature, mystified. As the monster began to curl in on itself, Braden cursed and tackled me to the ground. “Don’t look,” he whispered harshly. So I didn’t.

  An instant later, everything went white, despite my closed eyes.

  Silence followed for several long seconds before we risked opening our eyes. I stood shakily and helped Braden to his feet. The monster was gone, and the bandits were completely still and ringed by a faint white glow. The leader had a look of horror stuck on his face. He didn’t blink or breathe, but when I put a finger to his neck, which was hot now, I felt a pulse. I knew what this was.

  They were paralyzed.

  Someone suddenly scampered through the underbrush to our left. I grabbed my crystals and stood at the ready, but there was no need. A woman appeared. She had a nest of busy black hair that tumbled over her shoulders in waves of curls. She had rich chocolate skin, a trait of the west. A thick bandolier ran across her torso, filled with crystals like mine.

  Her full lips curled to reveal a brilliant smile. She winked and took a few deep breaths. “Well, that was something, wasn’t it?”

  I blinked, astonished. Yes, yes it was.

  Chapter 17

  I wriggled out from beneath Braden’s grip and pushed myself to my feet. I held my hand to my throat and stanched the trickle of blood that still dripped from the cut from the bandit leader’s blade.

  The woman came to a halt in front of me, her hands folded behind her back and her head tilted slightly to the side as she took me in with a smile. Her eyes were deep pools of dark brown, her cheeks soft and round. She was about half a head shorter than me, but her big pile of hair made her seem taller than she actually was.

  “Like what you see?” she asked, an eyebrow arched.

  “Uh…”

  Her grin grew wider as she slapped my arm. “I’m just teasing.”

  Get it together, Gryff. I’d have time to get to know our mysterious rescuer. I scratched the back of my head and offered a slight, awkward smile.

  “Thanks for the assist.”

  She crossed her arms. “You’re very welcome.” Her eyes and smile were warm, inviting, and gave me a feeling like I could get lost in them forever. With a shake of my head, I pulled out of the gravity of those eyes. While I had some questions for her, namely who she was and what that monster had been, we needed to get back to Maelor and Layla and round up the bandits so the authorities could handle them properly. The rest could wait.

  “Well, I guess we should collect these miscreants,” Braden said with a crack of his knuckles. Look at him, taking charge. He fished a couple of crystals from the small pack at his hip and tossed them. They flashed, illuminating the area briefly in their faint ghostly glow, and out of the puff of dirty smoke that followed stood a couple of box trolls. They each collected one of the petrified bandits.

  “You’re a summoner too, eh?” the woman asked with a bemused smirk.

  I nodded. “We both are.”

  Her narrowed eyes scanned me up and down as she stroked her chin. “Really now? Interesting…” she trailed off. A flicker of recognition crossed her face as if she couldn’t quite place where she knew me from. How that was possible, I didn’t know, as I certainly didn’t know her.

  I gave her a wave. “I’m Gryff, and this is Braden.” Braden waved as well.

  She smiled. “Cyra, nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.”

  I led us back to the dig site, the woman right on our tail and the box trolls right behind her. We collected the bandit that Braden had knocked out first, slung him over the shoulder of one of the trolls, and then found the one that I’d trapped with my cementroll. He was still conscious as he tried desperately to wriggle free of the cement even though it was a hopeless endeavor.

  Braden walked right up to him. “Sorry about this,” he said shyly, then reared back and punched the bandit square in the jaw. The bandit’s head whipped back before lolling forward, his head bowed low, and his eyes rolled back in his head. We collected him and then moments later broke through the tree-line to the dig site.

  Maelor sat on his haunches and twiddled his thumbs as Layla knelt in front of him and examined him. She dabbed at his head with some fabric. She said something to him, and he laughed in response, but I couldn’t make out any of their words. Still, it was obvious they were getting along well, which was just fine by me. I could hear him take sharp and wheezing breaths, the pain in him obvious.

  I jogged down the hill to them. When Layla saw me, she dropped the makeshift bandage and ran to me. She tackled me in a warm embrace and laughed.

  “Thank goodness,” she exclaimed before pulling away quickly. “I was getting worried for a second.”

  I winked. “Don’t worry, it takes a lot to beat Braden and me. You should know that.” She replied with a grin and a roll of her eyes. “We got all the bandits.” I pointed a thumb behind me at the prisoners carried by Braden and the box trolls.

  She followed my gesture and smiled. “I can see that.” But her smile faded a touch, and her eyebrow lifted at the sight of Cyra. “Who’s that?”

  “That’s Cyra. She’s a summoner who helped us catch a few of the bandits.” I turned away from her and toward Maelor, who took deep breaths. I hooked an arm under his and helped him to his feet, and he groaned and cursed all the way.

  “I’m too old for this shit,” he said with a grimace.

  I smiled. “Were you ever young enough for this, old man?”

  He was old, but he wasn’t slow, so I wasn’t able to dodge his hand when he swatted at the back of my head. “Don’t get cheeky.” I smiled and rubbed the back of my head. His eyes went to Layla. “You’ve got an interesting companion here, this Layla.”

  She smiled mischievously, and I could only laugh as I said, “Yeah, interesting would be a good word to describe her, definitely.”

  My smile faded as I took in my mentor’s appearance fully. The whole right side of his head was coated in blood. Some of it was smeared and wiped away, a result of Layla’s prodding I assumed. Still, there was so much that it made me worried. I put a hand on his shoulder and frowned at the wound.

  “You okay?” I asked as I began to examine the injury.

  He slapped my hand aside. “I’m fine, Gryff.”

  I ignored him as I turned his head and saw the gash that ran from above his right ear and along his forehead. It looked like it stopped bleeding as the blood was already starting to cake against his skin. I didn’t think it would need stitches, but I was certainly no expert on healing. After it healed, he would have a scar to go with the one that ran along the left side of his jaw.

  “I staunched the bleeding,” Layla said with a cheeky smile, clearly proud of herself. “Might need stitches, I don’t know.”

  “See?” Maelor said with a huff. “I’m fine.”

  “Thank the Maker,” I snarked. “It would have been annoying to have come all the way out here just for you to die on me.”

  He swatted at me again, but I anticipated this one and ducked it with a chuckle. “Yeah, it
would be so inconvenient for you,” he shot back.

  I laughed and pulled him into a hug. He squeezed back, and then we were both laughing wholeheartedly. We pulled apart then. I put my hands on my hips and gave him a good look over. I didn’t see any other injuries from what I could tell.

  “Do you have a first aid kit, Maelor?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Forgot it back at the inn. The one day I needed it too.”

  “It’s okay,” I began. “We should at least wrap this up for the time being until we can get you back to town to get looked at.” He didn’t protest as I tore a length of my traveling cloak off and wrapped it gently around his head.

  Someone cleared their throat behind me. Cyra. I turned and found her waiting there expectantly.

  I put a shoulder around Maelor and smiled at her. “Hello again.”

  She smirked and offered a slight wave of her hand. “Hi.” She gave me a long look. “So, you’re the Gryff, eh? I’ve heard so much about you.”

  I frowned in vague confusion. “Have you now?” I moved away from Maelor and took a step toward her so that we were only an arm’s width apart. “And who are you, if you don’t mind my asking? I mean, I know your name, but how do you know me?”

  She put her hands on her hips and grinned. “Well, I’m the old man’s new helper, of course.”

  “You replaced me that quickly?” I asked with a frown and turned to Maelor, momentarily leaving Cyra hanging.

  Maelor shrugged, hands in his pockets, his demeanor cool and innocent. “I’m an old man, son, as you love to point out. You expect me to come out here and work by myself? Look where that got me today!”

  I scratched the back of my head and grinned. “Fair enough, it’s just surprising is all.” I turned back to Cyra and put out my hand since she’d dropped hers. “Pardon me, I didn’t mean to give you the cold shoulder, you just caught me off guard.”

  She smiled and took my hand. Her grip was warm and callused, strong and confident.

  “It’s fine, Gryff. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Again.” The way her eyes repeatedly lingered on me made that seem like the truth.

  Braden and Layla butted in then as they’d been standing back as the box trolls continued to Layla’s task of piling the bandits together. Layla smiled and whistled.

  “Well, that was all fun, wasn’t it?” she said, her arms out to reference the melee we experienced. “I’m Layla Bethel, by the way, summoner and slum-rat extraordinaire, at your service.”

  “Charmed, I’m sure,” Cyra said with a wry smile. She and Layla shook hands.

  With a smile, I turned to stand by my friends. “Maelor, these are my friends from the Academy. Layla, you’ve met and--”

  “Flint, Braden Flint,” Braden chimed with more confidence than Layla and I were used to. He stepped forward and offered his hand to Maelor, who shook it vigorously.

  “My my, you are big, son,” he replied with a grizzled grin. “You’re like those two box trolls stacked atop one another, though not as ugly.”

  Braden’s cheeks flushed. “T-thank you, sir,” he said with a shy chuckle. I couldn’t help but laugh at the exchange.

  Finally, Maelor grumbled, clearing his throat. “We should probably deal with this lot,” he said, indicating to the frozen bandits.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “But before we get to that, what was that monster you used, Cyra?” I asked.

  But it was Braden who answered. “That was a petripede, a grade A monster. Very rare. They’ve only been seen outside of the Shadowscape a few times…” he trailed off as he noticed all of us staring at him, namely Layla and me. “What? I read books too.”

  I put my hands up in defense. “I said nothing. It’s just surprising, given your dislike of monsters.” I didn’t mention his irrational phobia of them, for I didn’t want to give Maelor or Cyra a bad impression of my friend. Not that there was anything wrong with being afraid of them, but as summoners, it would be… a tad odd.

  Braden shrugged. “I need to learn, regardless of my dislike.”

  Cyra chuckled at our exchange. “Well, you’re right. That petripede was a gift from my mom. I don’t use it much though. It takes a lot out of me just to control it properly, let alone to use its power.”

  She did seem tired, now that I gave her a better look. Her skin was dappled with sweat, and her breathing was slightly labored. It looked like simple fatigue, but mana depletion and physical fatigue look nearly the same on the outside. Still, she kept on smiling.

  We got to work tying up as many of them as we could. Cyra had a coil of rope in her supplies stashed away near the hole in the rock. However, she only had enough to bind six of the bandits properly. The rest were free of restraints, but for now, they were unconscious. As we worked, my eyes kept finding the pile of bloody pulp that was the remains of the marksmen that Layla had flattened with her wallerdon.

  That was the right decision, but I worried that it might be weighing on her. She seemed fine, cheery even, but I’d need to remember to talk to her later. She might have been hiding her emotions behind a smile. I didn’t have experience killing, but I couldn’t imagine it was something that people just did without a second thought.

  I had to hope she was holding up alright.

  Once the bandits were incapacitated and tied up, we split up. “You two stay here and watch this lot while we go into town and gather the guard,” said Maelor as he pointed to Braden and Cyra. They didn’t put up an argument.

  So the three of us hoofed it through the woods and back to town so we could inform the local guard garrison of what happened. Maelor led us down a few streets to the guard house, a large brick structure with high windows and a pudgy man with a pistol on his belt standing out front.

  “Aye, summoner,” the guard said to Maelor, his voice a sloppy rumble. “What happened to ye?”

  I pointed back the way we came. “Bandits attacked Maelor’s work site. We used our magic to subdue the lot, but we need help rounding them up.”

  The guard frowned and pushed off from the wall. “Bandits, you say? I wonder if it’s the same ones who stole that mess of cattle from Garren Hollow?” He stroked his bearded chin and pondered that question himself. Before long, he snapped out of that line of thought. “Anyway, I’ll rouse the captain and the others and any volunteers we can muster.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I said. The guard nodded and turned to go inside the guard house, but he paused and gave us a concerned look. “You oughta get yourselves looked at by Mrs. Bellwin at the apothecary.”

  Minutes later, the rest of the guard streamed out of the building. There were only five men in the garrison, poorly equipped with only a few pistols between them, but seeing as the bandits were temporarily knocked out, it hopefully wouldn’t matter. The guards rounded up several more men in the town and rode off to the dig site to apprehend the bandits.

  The captain stayed behind briefly. He was a tall, stout man with a bald head and a thick brown mustache. His uniform was pressed and pleated, clean as a whistle. A rifle was slung across his back.

  “I appreciate your help,” he said profusely. “We’ve been harassed by bandits for years now. This won’t be the end of them, but it sure helps.”

  “It’s no problem at all,” I told him.

  “Would you like a reward? I’m sure the town could pull together a collection for your troubles.”

  Maelor waved that off immediately. “We don’t need a reward. We were only defendin’ ourselves. Beatin’ that bunch is our civic duty after all.” He was a stubborn old man who didn’t like praise. Stubborn yes, but I always appreciated how humble he could be.

  The captain laughed. “I suppose so. Well, again, I thank you.” Then he mounted his horse and rode off to join the other guards.

  After that, Maelor led us to the town apothecary who doubled as the town doctor. She was a nice older woman who smiled all day long. And she really smiled at Maelor, her crush was obvious to me. She stitched him up expertly and wrapped my nec
k in gauze, which was beyond uncomfortable and itchy as hell, but it couldn’t be helped.

  As we left the apothecary’s, we found Cyra and Braden down the road being escorted by a couple of guards. Cyra waved excitedly as she saw us. I guessed that meant that everything was taken care of without incident. That done, we returned to the inn for a big meal for we were all starving, and after that dangerous encounter with the bandits, we all needed a good drink too.

  It was well past lunch now, as we were already in the late afternoon, but there was still that delicious meat smell when we returned to the inn. The innkeeper was pleased to see us back, and we crowded around one of the long tables that lined either side of the large hearth that sat in the center of the common room. It was very wilder styled, old-fashioned and cozy. Not at all like Enclave inns and taverns.

  As we sat, Maelor pulled out his satchel. “Sorry for puttin’ you kids in harm’s way. First round is on me.”

  I wasn’t about to argue against a free round, but I didn’t want him to feel guilty. “Nonsense, we chose to fight to save you. You didn’t force us into anything.”

  Layla and Braden both nodded and echoed their agreement. Maelor smiled at them both and chuckled. “You’re good people. I appreciate the help.”

  “Anytime, old man,” Layla quipped with a cheeky grin.

  “Hey, only I’m allowed to call him that!” I complained with a laugh.

  Cyra sniggered. “I thought he only let me call him that.”

  Maelor growled. “I don’t want any of you young shits callin’ me that, you useless buckets of goblin piss.”

  We all laughed at that.

  When the innkeeper arrived with our drinks, I stood and proposed a toast. “To the old man, may no bandit have the misfortune of facing him on the fields of battle.”

  They all chuckled as they raised their glasses. “To the old man!”

  Maelor shook his head and grumbled, but he was smiling. “Y’all are such insolent little fucks, aren’t you?”

  Then we all laughed, even Maelor.