by Guy Antibes
Whit went up to the room he would be sharing with Argien and stretched out on the bed. He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. Sleep was just about there when Argien burst into the room.
“Pin is downstairs. You should meet him,” Argien said, looking excited.
Whit rubbed his eyes and stood. He could have met Nistia later in the afternoon, but Argien was tapping his foot. They walked down, and Argien directed him to the dining room and through to a private dining room holding everyone on the team now that he was there.
A small man with long silvery hair tied up in a ponytail talked to Yetti. The man followed Yetti’s eyes when Whit walked in and turned. Whit expected an elderly pixie, but he doubted if Piesson Nistia was much older than Laring Gambol.
“Whit Varian?” Nistia said. “Call me Pin. Everyone does, and I truly abhor my first name. I never had a father named Pie, and it has been the bane of my existence.” Pin laughed lightly and stepped forward, extending his hand.
When Whit was about to grasp it, Pin grabbed Whit’s wrist and felt his pulse.
“I am a healer, of sorts. I take pulses of everyone I meet. It helps me to get to know them. You are lucky you didn’t try to find me earlier this week. I was out for a few days helping deliver a bouncing pixie baby.”
Whit frowned. “What does my pulse tell you?”
“I admit to some confusion. Argien said yours would be unique, and I must admit, it is. You are a stew of questions,” Pin said. “Multiple magics, so many I can’t separate them all. I have experienced two, rarely, and three, once.”
Whit wasn’t happy that a stranger could expose him so easily. He didn’t think such a thing was possible.
“You have a strong heart, a strong well of magic, and a forceful mind. No wonder you lead the expedition although you are the youngest.”
“I have the biggest chip on my shoulder.”
Pin raised an eyebrow. “A wood elf expression?”
“I grew up in a wood elf village. I am a mud elf,” Whit said.
“That wouldn’t be a characterization that I would use, but if it makes it convenient to explain your unusual ability, that is up to you.”
“How would you characterize me?”
“Unique in the world, maybe. You know Torius Pott?” Pin asked. “Argien said you did.”
Whit was getting embarrassed and was glad Pin changed subjects. “He is an advisor of sorts. He was a family friend. Still is, but my family has been reduced to me.”
“That sounds like a sad story to tell me another time. My niece, I’ll call her my niece for simplicity, says you are on an expedition to find parts of the Augur’s Eye?”
“We are,” Gambol said. “Perisia is our first stop. There are as many as four parts in the pixie kingdom. Can you give us any advice?”
“I can do better than that.” Pin looked down at his niece. “I’ve been an exile of sorts since just before King Quiller rose to the throne. It is time I reintroduced myself to him, and I can’t think of a better way than as a member of your team, if you’ll have me while you are in Perisia.”
“Yetti said you might be able to help, but I can’t take advantage,” Whit said.
“No advantage taken. I need an excuse to show my face in court, and you’ve provided me with one. In addition, I’m interested in what you are planning on doing with the parts you find.”
“What do you know about the Eye?” Argien asked.
Pin squinted his eyes. “You asked me that on the way here, but I didn’t want to answer until I met Whit Varian. I know the Augur’s Eye is like fire. It can do wonderful things, and it can cause disaster. It was dismantled after a disaster and the parts scattered around Fortia.”
“How do you know it was taken apart?” Gambol asked.
Pin shrugged. “I don’t. That is the legend. Do you know differently?”
Gambol laughed. “We don’t know, either, but we think that whoever last possessed it decided it shouldn’t be used.”
“And I don’t think anyone can retrieve all the parts. How are you going to know how many parts to get or how they are put together?” Pin asked.
“Because we have a drawing and a parts list,” Whit said. “It has been handed down to me. I can’t say it is fully accurate, but Torius Pott has one of the parts, and we verified that it was on the drawing.”
“Really. Let’s sit and talk for a bit. You’ve told me more than I should know, but I have a few tales to tell too.”
Pin called out the door for refreshments and snacks before taking a seat at the end of the large table in the dining room. “I was born in Coria,” Pin said. “My father took a position as an assistant minister of the interior. He was a geologist and knew mining as well as any gnome. That is how I made it to Perisia at ten years old.”
“I’ve never met Uncle Pin before,” Yetti said.
“That’s right, Yetti. As my father went to court, I went to the best schools in Garri and graduated as a political expert and a magician. Those aren’t particularly compatible concentrations in Perisia. There is a chapter of the Magician’s Circle in Perisia that wanted me to join, but I found that a boring proposition. I became a foreign advisor to King Hennis, the current king’s uncle. I’ve been to the University of Herringbone a few times. That is where I met Torius Pott, the gnome who has pixie magic. I took an interest in healing when my parents took ill. I made a few enemies in court, as every good courtier does, except for my universally well-liked father, bless his departed soul, and left when King Hennis died. I’ve consulted with a few Perisian nobles to keep some food on my table, but I’ve not felt comfortable going back. Unfortunately, I have heard of problems in Perisia, and it is time I offered my services to King Quiller.”
“And if he puts you in a dungeon?”
Pin laughed. “No dungeons in the palace. Rest assured, I’m not a wanted person.”
“If you have no influence, then how can you help us?” Argien asked.
“I didn’t say I didn’t have influence, but I am confident I can help you, if nothing else than to guide you through Garri society. You will need to obtain a permit to remove any ancient artifacts, and I can help with that.”
“Compensation?” Whit asked.
“Whatever you think is fair, even if it is nothing. Give me room, board, and transportation, and I will consider us even. Although, I may be welcomed in by old friends. Anything extra can be based on whatever you feel is appropriate for my contribution.”
Whit couldn’t see a downside unless Pin was preparing to betray them, but that could happen with any stranger they met. “Then when can you be ready to leave?”
Pin beamed. “Ah. You’ll have me then. Yetti said there is plenty of room.”
“More than enough,” Razz said.
“Then give me two days to get ready, and we can leave the morning of the third.”
Zarl smiled and nodded. “Good! We can use a little breather.”
Whit didn’t need one, but Zarl might be a little homesick, and a few days with the ogre innkeeper would cure some of that.
It was time for an early dinner by the time the others introduced themselves, and let Pin read their pulses.
Razz mentioned that he met Whit playing scout.
“You are both scout players? I dabble in it, but mostly for the betting rather than the playing. Are you willing to play on my team? I assume you are both competent players.”
“We are. I played on the Herringbone City professional team, and Whit played well for the University of Herringbone.”
“Excellent. After dinner, let’s drift over to the scout field and see what you’ve got.”
Whit thought he needed some exercise, but he had thought it would come from gnomish fighting routines. Razz and Whit showed up after Pin had gone home and changed clothing. It wasn’t the same scout field that they passed on the way in and was little better than the Red Bee’s practice field that Whit played for in Turpentine.
“Let’s see what
you’ve got. Are you both scouts?” Pin asked.
“We’ve played both positions,” Razz said.
“With your size, compared to pixies, you can pick your position. I’ll sit out.”
Razz took a soldier spot and Whit was on the left-hand side of the scout front. The pixies weren’t interested in extensive warmups, and the scrimmage began. Whit almost laughed out loud as the pixies buzzed back and forth. They did fly like hummingbirds, darting back and forth, looking like they could lose control at any moment, but they didn’t.
Whit and Razz played conservatively, yet compared to the pixies, they had their way in the field. The players weren’t as bad as the Red Bees, but they would never win against the Turpentine Terrapins, not to mention the university scout team.
They were called off the field and replaced by two pixies who had shown up after Whit had arrived.
“You were toying with my teammates?” Pin said. “Good.” The pixie rubbed his hands. “How would you both like to play for us tomorrow night?”
“On this field?” Whit asked.
“No. The city field is on the main road. You might have noticed it when you came into town. There will be lots of people and a lot of betting. I can make a lot on the first battle. After that the odds will be less favorable once everyone sees how you play.”
Whit looked at Razz. “I don’t know how we can refuse?” Razz said.
“Tomorrow night, then.”
Chapter Six
~
T here wasn’t an empty spot around the railing that separated the playing field from the spectator areas. Two stands were set up facing each other in the middle of the field.
Whit struggled to get into a uniform top, but he had Razz slit some of the seams. Whit had to perform the same operation on Razz’s playing tunic. Whit could barely believe he was playing on a pixie team in Festor. He wondered if his former teammates on the Herringbone University team would believe him, but then, most of them wouldn’t be interested in any of Whit’s stories after he was kicked off the team.
Razz and Whit warmed up more than the pixies, but a horn blew, and players collected in the middle of the field. One of the referees went over the rules. Flying outside the field would result in a sacrifice. Two feet on the ground would count as one as well.
“Make sure they don’t push you out,” Razz cautioned Whit.
“I caught that. I can push as well as be pushed, but we will see how the play unfolds,” Whit said.
The game started. The message tube was a bit smaller than what was used in Ayce, but it was big enough for Whit and Razz to grab. The game started, and the play was similar enough to what Whit was used to except for the rapid movements of the pixies. It made the play a bit more challenging, but Whit contributed enough. He learned to use a bit of inner power to increase his speed, but he wasn’t as nimble as a pixie.
The opposing team, all pixies, kept sending a single scout or soldier to sacrifice Whit, but they didn’t succeed. Razz played on the other side just above the surface of the field most of the time, darting up toward the pixies and pulling them down. He used the downward momentum to push them down to the field, freezing them for the current message.
Whit surmised that the other team was better than Pin’s group, and with Whit and Razz fortifying their offense and defense, they soon prevailed in the first battle—ten messages to eight. The other team huddled for quite a while, stealing glances at Whit and Razz, as they talked. Pin’s coach just told his team to rest and play just as hard in the next battle.
“You two, do whatever you think will work best against our opponents,” the coach said. “I have no idea how to coach you.”
“No problem,” Razz said. “We can’t guarantee you a win, but we can promise you will get more messages than you would otherwise.”
“A win would be best,” the coach said with a smile.
Whit nodded and drew Razz aside. “If the other pixies overload you, just make sure you take as many down as you can.”
Razz groaned. “I only have two hands.”
“And arms, legs, and feet.”
Razz nodded. “I have the concept. You’ll have to drag your pixies all the way to the home, but you’ve done that before.”
“So, no difference in our strategies?”
Razz grinned. “None. Let’s get to work and make Pin a rich man so he will be thrilled to join us,” Razz said.
The horn blared, and Whit and Razz were back on the field, this time playing on the same side of the field. The battle began, and Whit likened the frenzy to a disturbed beehive. The opponents came out bouncing into Whit and Razz. Whit wondered if their strategy was to pummel them into submission, but then Razz began to fight back, and Whit did the same. Their superior weight and strength began to knock pixies out of the air. They both flew down and made sure both of the pixies’ feet touched the ground, and the strategy worked until the referees cautioned both of the elves for playing too rough.
Whit had never been cautioned before, but it was apparent that they were being singled out. Much to Whit’s surprise, he was flying on his side when three opposing pixies flew beside him and used their magic to blow him out of the field. Disgruntled, he was ordered to descend, a sacrifice until the next message. He watched the pixies use the same strategy to remove Razz from play.
The play evened out again, and on the next message, Whit, who never used magic other than to fly in a scout game, used sky elf magic to blow the pixies down into the field. The opposing pixies tried to counter Whit’s wind magic, but the pixies didn’t have the power. Even Razz’s wind spells had more force than pixie magic. While the other team struggled to get Razz and Whit blown away, Pin’s team scored four messages and won the second battle by one message. Whit could get used to the addition of magic in scout play.
Pin’s team were very loose after the second win. It was clear they weren’t interested in a third battle since they had locked the match in their favor.
Ready for another win?” Whit asked.
“Not us,” the coach said. “Two is enough. Now we can sit back and think about how to spend our winnings.”
Whit looked at Razz. “Are two enough for you?”
Razz lifted the corner of his lips and shook his head. “Let’s do some hard charging,” Razz said.
A few minutes later, when the last battle started, most of Pin’s team let the opposing players take them as sacrifices. In very little time, the opponents had won a nine to four advantage. This must have been how it usually went for Pin’s pixie team.
Whit flew to the other side of the field to pick up a fallen message. Three of the other pixies piled on Whit from the back once he grasped the white leather tube. He almost dropped to the ground but began to lift the three pixies up with him. He hoped the pixies would drop, but they didn’t let go.
Grumbling inside, Whit began to twist and turn in the air and finally shook the pixies off him. They returned to grab, but by then Whit was heading home with the message in his hand, and he managed to drop it in the home tube. The play continued until all the scouts of the opposing team had grabbed Whit, who didn’t have the message.
Razz had picked it up and waved it to Whit, who dragged five pixies out of the field, sacrificing by removing the other team’s ability to score. Razz handed it off to one of the scouts who was stopped by the soldiers on the other team. Shouting something to his teammate that Whit couldn’t hear, Razz grabbed the message again, when the scout returned to midfield. The soldiers converged on Razz, and two of the three soldiers joined Razz leaving the field, but not before Razz tossed the message to another player. There were three scouts to one soldier, and Pin’s team tied the battle at nine goals apiece. “
Whit was curious how the pixies would respond. What strategy could they employ that might work, he thought?
“What is your team better at, soldiering or scouting?” Whit asked. “Razz and I will be on the other part of the team.”
“We are better soldiers
,” the coach said, but as Whit played, he felt the scouts were better.
“Let Razz and I play soldier. Put your best players in the scout position. We won’t permit a delivered message, and your scouts can win the day. More glory for your regular players.”
The coach considered Whit’s suggestion and nodded his head. “That will mix them up,” the coach said with a broadening grin.
Whit and Razz took the other soldier aside and let him know what the strategy would be. He was told to play to the best of his ability, but to stay out of their way when the pair did something unexpected.
The referee called the teams together for the last message. Whit and Razz played on either side of the opposing team’s home tube, and the sole pixie soldier played in the center of Pin’s half of the field. The game commenced.
The pixie was fast enough to converge on the opponent with the message, but one of the other scouts dragged him down to the field. Pin’s team had two foreign soldiers to three opposing scouts. The message changed hands multiple times as Whit and Razz stood their ground, floating in front of the home tube.
The scouts played keep away until two of them rushed Razz and pulled him to the back line behind the tube and Razz aided their pushing unexpectedly, as all three of them crossed over the fence and out of the field of play. It was Whit against the last pixie scout. The opponent flitted back and forth at tremendous speed. It was time to use the gnomish inner power full time.
The last pixie sent a blast of flame at Whit, to the shock of the crowd, but Whit was ready for aggressive magic on the last message. He held up a spinning shield of water and wind and pushed the shocked pixie back almost to midfield.
After letting the pixie get behind him, Whit grabbed the pixie and lifted him high into the air, keeping track of the field. The pixie fought him and finally had to shove the message in his belt before he attempted to pull out his wand. Whit grabbed the wand from the scout and tossed it to the ground far below.
The pixie’s eyes grew large to see his wand drop. While the pixie was distracted, Whit let the scout go and, as the pixie descended to retrieve his wand, Whit gently blew the pixie off course, so gently, the pixie didn’t know he was out of bounds until the referee blew his horn.