by Jaxon Reed
Erik felt weak. His arms were numb from swinging his sword and blocking with his shield. After locking the grate, on the way back up they met a sounder of feral cave hogs. The vicious beasts fought hard and gave them most of their wounds for the morning.
Next they found a wandering zombie, another couple of alpha rats, and a huge 50-foot subterranean albino snake.
The snake had been their most formidable foe, and it had taken a good half hour of fighting to put it down. It had a resistance to spells that made Tawny’s offensive magic useless. The men had to battle it with swords. It finally died when it wrapped itself around Toby and he became truly upset. In a screaming fit he sliced the snake open from its head to the end of its tail, then stabbed into its upper mouth repeatedly when it reached back to bite him.
Toby settled down afterwards, covered in steaming snake blood and suffering from cracked ribs. Nessa fussed over him, cleaning him up and making him drink a health potion while she cast Rested State.
At that point, it became obvious to everyone that emotions were brewing between the two. Nessa ignored Percel and Erik, who were covered in just as much blood, and in Erik’s case he was wounded more than Toby with a gash on his arm from a glancing snakebite suffered earlier in the battle.
Tawny had tossed him a potion with a smile and said, “Looks like you’re on your own.”
He smiled back, then grimaced as the potion began healing his arm. Nessa continued ignoring everyone else and tended to Toby the rest of the way out of the crypts.
Now they trudged through the streets, the afternoon sun shining bright on everyone. They came to Allred Platz and made their way across the busy square toward Bassinger Strasse on the other side.
The smells of aromatic meat and fresh bread from the food vendors drifted over them, and everyone’s stomachs growled.
“Come on, come on,” Percel said. “No sense paying for food out here when the corps feeds us for free back home.”
Dutifully, they followed him across the plaza and trudged toward Headquarters.
-+-
Horst and Fissure leaned quietly against a wall. They stood across from Dungeon Corps Headquarters, and no one noticed them. Indeed, it would take a fairly powerful mage to notice someone using Greater Invisibility.
The anti-magic spells at the major intersections had surprised Horst. He had not expected humans to be so . . . cunning. That was the word. Intelligent was too strong. So was knowledgeable, so was wise. But the spells designed to thwart subterfuge, thievery, and assassinations were indeed a cunning idea.
Phanos, he knew, was very old even by elven standards. The spells looked old, too, although no doubt their municipal mages inspected them from time to time, keeping them fresh.
He could see the sparkling barrier from here, while invisible. Detecting the presence of magic became easier the more experienced a mage grew. Horst was quite an experienced mage, at least by human standards. He was 136 years old and had practiced magic most of his life.
He also knew the intersection spell would disperse his Greater Invisibility spell. He had no doubts about that. Whoever had designed the countermeasure made it to squash not just lower level magic, but higher spells as well. He wondered if there was anything in the upper stealth family of spells that could make it past the barriers unscathed. He doubted it. Maybe something in the Shadow Magic skillset, he thought. Perhaps in Spirit Magic as well.
At any rate, they would have to make an escape without the aid of an invisibility spell, at least at that intersection. And the other ones between here and the city gate. Perhaps they could simply port home. After all, their job would be done . . .
Ah well, Horst thought. Let’s face one thing at a time.
He felt Fissure’s hand bump into his arm, and the elf whispered to him.
“I think that’s them.”
Horst turned and looked down the street toward the plaza. Sure enough, a giant, extraordinarily tall elf ambled toward them with a silly grin on his face. A young human girl dressed as a cleric walked close beside him. Horst did not need magic to appreciate the fact they were beginning to consider one another as romantic interests. The thought disgusted him.
The other two humans he ignored, but he focused on Tawny. She would be his biggest threat.
“The girl must be questioned before we put her down,” Horst said. “But go ahead and kill the monstrosity as quickly as possible.”
-+-
As they approached Headquarters, Percel opened his bag and rummaged through the loot they had recovered.
“Aye, not a bad day, especially for a first run. Normally we would not have seen so many monsters, but that grate was open long enough it will keep teams cleaning things out for a while on the upper levels. These spectacles are very helpful.”
He pulled out the glasses enchanted with See Magic, and placed them on his face.
“They are particularly useful when checking out a new room for—“
He stopped suddenly, holding his fist up. Everyone else stopped along with him.
“What is it?” Erik said.
“Two men, right there,” Percel said, pointing. “They’re staring us. One is a mage, about to cast a spell. The other has daggers. On guard! The one with weapons approaches!”
Percel drew his sword and assumed a battle stance. Confused, Erik followed suit. Toby furrowed his brows and stuck a finger in his mouth.
Nessa backed away, uncertain, while Tawny cast a fireball in the direction Percel had pointed.
They heard a curse as Horst dived out of the way, his own spell disrupted.
Fissure charged for Percel, seeing him as the biggest threat, but the sword kept the assassin away. So long as Percel could see him, Fissure would not be able to close easily.
Erik followed the battle by watching Percel. He took a guess where the opponent might be and lunged with a strike. Fissure yelped, rolled out of the way, then charged Erik, slashing his side. Erik stepped back with a cut, grunting in pain.
Percel followed Fissure, jabbing at the elf’s backside. Fissure turned, bringing the daggers back to him.
Percel yelled, “Stay back, Erik! Y’ can nay see him. It’s too dangerous. Tawny! The other one is in the middle of the street!”
Tawny cast a fireball in that direction. It sailed past Horst harmlessly, exploding into a wagon hitched to two horses. They reared and galloped away, dragging the flames behind them.
Fissure yelled, “Do something about this one! He can see me!”
Horst turned and cast Disanimation on the entire team. All five froze in their current positions. Percel and Erik stood with their swords ready to swing. Nessa lingered in the back, alarmed. Tawny had one hand up, even with her head, about to cast another spell. Toby stood with a finger in his mouth, frowning.
“At last,” Horst said, strolling up to the group.
“You should have cast that first,” Fissure said in an admonishing tone.
“Tut, tut. We were distracted, and I did not expect to be discovered so easily. Now, take out the freak and I will deal with the girl.”
He approached Tawny and looked her over from head to toe. Her eyes stared in the same spot, the middle of the street.
“Ah, such a specimen. A noble Daughter of Andreia. Yet untrained, here you are doing your best, displaying the courage of your mother’s calling.”
He looked over at Toby as he heard Fissure’s footsteps approaching the giant elf.
Horst said, “And you left for . . . this? I know he is your brother. Well, your half-brother, obviously. But this . . . this abomination . . . There are rules, young Tawny. You know this.”
He sighed, ignoring the handful of concerned people now approaching the frozen Dungeon Corps team.
He said, “Take care of the lummox, and we will take her with us someplace more private.”
Fissure pulled his hand back, preparing to shove a dagger up under Toby’s breastbone, when a clatter down the street made him pause.
A magical horseless ca
rriage came rushing toward them at full speed, the wheels bouncing over pavement stones. It appeared to be controlled by a man in a butler’s livery. Next to him on the driver’s seat, a mage with long dark hair and a skullish face cast Dispel Magic on the group.
Erik and Percel grunted as their swings followed through, swishing in empty air.
Toby looked down at Fissure and frowned at the emerald dagger in the assassin’s hand. Instinctively, he kicked the smaller elf, sending him flying back on his tailbone.
Horst recovered quickly. He cast Sap Magic on Tawny, then Magical Shield around himself.
Justen cast Lightning, then Wizard’s Bolt at Horst, but both spells flickered out on the Magical Shield.
Tawny backed away in alarm, helplessly trying to cast Fireball, or anything as the assassin approached her.
Horst smiled and said, “It’s a pity you’ve had no training, or you’d know how to counter Sap Magic.”
More lightning bolts from the carriage flickered away, dying on Horst’s shield.
“Do it quickly!” Horst shouted to Fissure.
But now that Fissure was visible, both Percel and Erik could see him. He fended off both with his daggers while they thrust and parried. He snarled in frustration. He lunged for Toby, who stood there staring at him stupidly, but each time he approached the giant elf he left himself open to either Erik or Percel, and he had to retreat or be slashed by their swords.
Horst frowned, seeing this, ignoring the onslaught of spells from the rapidly approaching carriage.
He grabbed Tawny’s wrist and said, “Just go!”
Fissure touched the portal stone in his pocket and popped away. Horst reached for his own portal stone . . . and felt Tawny’s enchanted dagger bite into his stomach.
He dropped her hand as he reached to cover the wound, and stared back at her in anger and astonishment before he too popped away.
Lady Lexa’s carriage pulled to a stop in the street and Pediford hopped down off the driver’s seat to rush and open the door. Behind the carriage, a contingent of city guards came running from Allred Platz along with a couple of municipal mages bringing up the rear.
Lexa, still wearing her ball gown, stepped out of the carriage. She looked around and smiled. Behind her, Lord Reginald stepped out, too.
He said, “Did we miss the fight?”
Lexa noted the disappointment evident in his voice.
She said, “It appears so, Lord Reginald.”
She turned to Tawny and said, “I take it they had portal stones?”
Tawny nodded, her heart pounding, her breathing shaky.
The guardsmen ran up at that moment, swords drawn but with confused looks on their faces. A captain, wearing a red plume on his bronze helmet, stepped forward.
He said, “What happened?”
Percel retrieved his signet and held it up for all to see. He said, “We were returning from a run though the crypts this morning when two invisible assassins attacked us, just before we entered Headquarters.”
The captain glanced at the entrance to Dungeon Corps, and back to Percel who still wore the copper-rimmed spectacles, giving his face a slightly comical look.
“I take it your glasses there helped you suss them out?”
“Aye. They must have cast their spells after crossing the intersection. They were waiting for us.”
“And why would assassins be waiting for you lot?”
He stared at the team suspiciously.
Lexa took this opportunity to delicately clear her throat.
She said, “Captain, Justen here is a mage in my employ. He is well versed in the particular types of spells the assassins were using. If you would be so kind, would you allow him to brief the mages in the employ of Phanos so that they might know what to be on the lookout for, should this unfortunate event reoccur?”
The captain paused briefly, but he ultimately had little choice other than to accept Lady Lexa’s offer. Besides being of the nobility, she had an excellent point. If her house mage sounded the alarm, the man might indeed be able to give the city mages a pointer or two for future reference.
He nodded his assent, and the guards dispersed, some to check on the wagon that raced away, others to dispel the gathering crowd. Justen walked back to the municipal mages who finally showed up, out of breath from running.
Lexa turned and smiled at Tawny.
She said, “My dear, I believe you owe me an explanation as to why the elves seem intent on killing you and your brother.”
-+-
Having already dined, Lady Lexa and Lord Reginald declined the offer of food in the Dungeon Corps common room. However, Reginald did take a tankard of ale while Lexa sipped on a cup of tea.
She noted his eye roaming about the room, taking everything in with interest. When they flickered back to her, she smiled brightly and he returned it.
He seems to be enjoying himself, she thought. That was good. Some in the nobility deplored entering a common establishment, but Reginald seemed to be treating it all as an adventure.
So far, so good, she thought, taking another dainty sip of hot tea. It was really quite good. Dungeon Corps took care of their people. Sending these wayward elves here was a good decision, Lexa decided.
The team devoured their food, particularly Toby who returned to the serving line five times, his plate piled high each trip. No one begrudged him the food, and he smiled at everyone while shoveling it in his mouth.
The others ate well, too, though not with as much gusto or huge servings as the giant elf. Obviously, Lexa thought, they had suffered through a tiring run this morning. Then, to top it off, they had the encounter with elven assassins.
And they were elves, Lexa knew. Not from their looks. The hats the two had worn hid their ears. But, she had full faith and confidence in Justen, and held no doubt these were elves. And, they were after the two siblings at the table. She felt determined to find out why, but she held her tongue as everybody ate a hearty lunch.
At last Tawny pushed her plate away. The others seemed to be winding down, too, sopping up mutton and gravy with scraps of bread, or finishing off the last bites of chopped carrots and turnips. Percel leaned back in his chair and bit into an apple, a real treat since fruit was expensive.
Lexa tipped her cup back and took the last sip of tea. She set it down on the table and looked intently at Tawny.
“So, my dear. I found you and your brother on the streets not long ago, in dire straights. Rather than turn you over to the city guards due to your . . . indiscretions, I sent you here, where you could be gainfully employed and remain well fed.”
Tawny glanced down at the table, tacitly acknowledging the point.
“And so, it is with curiosity my house mage informed me this morning of an elven spell called Higher Knowledge that was cast recently. When he described who the caster was looking for, I immediately recognized you two. We came here forthwith, and evidently just in time.”
Tawny nodded, again silently agreeing with Lexa’s statements.
“Therefore,” Lexa said, “it seems to me that I am owed an explanation. Who are you, what you doing in Phanos, and why have assassins from Dryadopolis been sent after you and your brother?”
Now the entire table focused on Tawny, the remaining food forgotten. Except for Toby’s. He continued munching down on an apple pie the serving wenches had given him for dessert. He picked it up in one hand and ate it like a tart, one bite at a time.
Tawny took a deep breath, held it, then let it out with a sigh.
She said, “My mother was an Andreian battle mage.”
The others around the table looked back at her blankly. She sighed again, realizing she would have to explain things in far greater detail. No one present understood much about elven society.
“Elves are born into the service of one of the four Great Virtues: Dikaiosynē, Andreia, Phronēsis, and Sōphrosynē.”
She looked again, and noticed the blank stares continuing.
She s
aid, “That’s the Old Tongue. Now we would say Justice, Courage, Prudence, and Temperance.”
Reginald said, “Ah!” and Tawny noticed more understanding expressions on faces around the table.
She said, “So, those born to serve Andreia, or the virtue of Courage, are warriors. They defend the realm, serving as soldiers, guardians, and protectors. My mother and father were such, and I was born to serve that way, as well.
“When I was a little girl, Dryadopolis was attacked from the underworld. The entrance to a new dungeon, or a new entrance to an old dungeon, I’m not sure which, appeared two miles from the city gates. A scouting party of monsters emerged, and returned with an army. The Andreia gathered and repelled the attack after much fighting. But on the last day, my father was killed in the final assault.
“My mother lived, but her heart was broken. Some years passed, and in due course an elf serving Dikaiosynē came to know my mother.”
“Say it again, slowly,” Lexa said, interrupting her. “How do you pronounce that?”
“Dee-kye-oh-see-nay.”
Lexa mouthed the word silently, letting the feel of it roll around in her mouth.
Percel frowned. He said, “Glad we moved on from the Old Tongue.”
“I’m sorry,” Lexa said. “Do go on with your story, dear.”
Tawny nodded and said, “You have to understand, those born to serve Dikaiosynē, or Justice in the modern tongue, are few in number. They are extraordinarily powerful, both in a physical sense as well as magically.”
“Wait,” Lexa said, interrupting again. “I’ve heard a little something about this. Justen, my house mage, spent some time in Dryadopolis. The members of Justice are the most powerful elves in existence, correct? They impose order and serve as your leaders.”
“Yes. And, there are strict rules about who they should mate. Unfortunately, my mother fell in love with Fulcris, the elf who sought to comfort her following the death of my father. Their relationship was forbidden by law.”
Tawny took a deep breath and held it again. A tear trickled down one cheek as she looked up at the ceiling.