by Chris Africa
"We'll need to do it quietly," William said. "Maybe starting in some pubs, if the people here aren't all holed up in their hovels being miserable. The town looks dead."
They followed the light trickle of people toward the market—a small market for such a large city. It occupied a space that should have held many more sellers and a large crowd of people, but today Nita saw few dealers and fewer shoppers. They walked through the market out the other side, and she smiled to see that the pubs looked well-visited. The rowdy customers of one named "The Full Mug" overflowed into the streets.
They pushed their way inside. It was so crowded Nita couldn't understand how the servants carried drinks and food without spilling it all over. They shuffled all the way back, to where a bard strummed away on his lute. The look of concentration on his face and the strings in his hands said he was putting his whole effort into his music, but it was impossible to hear a single note over the crowd's roar.
Nita waved to get his attention, but he only nodded at her. William hopped on top of a table and started shouting. She strained to hear his voice, and everyone else was ignoring him, except the people sitting at the table who wanted him off the table. Cherise took over. She jumped up on the table beside William and then onto his back to stand on his shoulders. That brought her high enough to hang from the rafters.
She did an amazing swing and a double flip, landing on the bar in front of the tavern owner, who fell back like she'd slapped him. The bard stopped playing music, and all eyes were on Cherise. Nita climbed up on the bar beside her, and William joined them on the other side.
William signaled for silence and waited for the noise to die down.
"We have an announcement! Gnarkvetch is dead! The war is over!"
A handful of people laughed. One guy threw a mug of ale that just missed Nita's shoulder. It crashed into the wall behind them, and the innkeeper swore.
"You expect us to believe that load of swill. This is probably another loyalty test," said one man. "Anyone want to cheer and get your head chopped off?"
Nita dropped her disguise and pulled her hood from her head, using a trickle of energy to put a little extra glow into her silver. Several people gasped.
"Hey, that's the Silver Sorceress!" The voice belonged to a man by the door sitting with several guards. He sprung out of his seat, and the small table popped up with him, dumping ale and food all over his companions. "She's the one as wrecked the warehouse." His voice was fearful, and it was clear he intended to run as soon as he could fight free of the crowd.
Looking out over the mass of people, Nita could see a few faces written with terror, but she saw more hope than fear. A mumble started, and she could hear the excitement rising.
"Tell us the story how he died," the pub owner said from behind them. "You wanna live, you better tell it."
So Cherise told the story, starting from the moment they located Gnarkvetch's camp. She was quite a good storyteller. The audience sat with their eyes wide open, laughing at the humorous parts and booing when one of their friends was hurt or at a disadvantage. They hated Queen Alystra, seeing her as a traitor to magic-loving people everywhere. Finally, they came to the part where Gnarkvetch and Chassy faced off in the clearing. There were gasps and shouts of anger when Cherise told how Chassy was injured—in this story, by a boulder Gnarkvetch hoisted and threw with his mind—but great cheers went up when Chassy killed the wizard. Nita appreciated her omitting the part where Chassy lost his magic.
"Where is the morph?"
"He is recovering with our friend," Nita said.
"Cheers for the true hero of the day, Chassy the Morph!"
"May his horses be ever spry and fast!"
"May his wife be blessed with loads of sons!"
Nita wanted to jump down from the table and shake the man who would only wish someone sons, but she resisted. It was, after all, good wishes for Chassy.
"May his table be filled ever with a bountiful harvest."
"May his claws and talons tear and rip the throats of his enemies," called a familiar voice from the corner. It was not a loud voice but projected across the room.
Nita felt a sudden chill and noticed some customers shifting or rubbing their arms. The other voices died away as heads swiveled, searching the room for the person who would give such a morbid wish.
The voice belonged to a man with scraggly, black hair falling to his shoulders in an unkempt mass. His nose was large with a bump in the middle and a crook at the end. He dressed like a farmer, but no one here seem to recognize him.
Nita searched her memory but found nothing. The man stared at her with soulless, black eyes. As if drawn to her by force, he stood and glided through the sea of bodies. The people pressed back away from him, their eyes filled with fear and repulsion.
"May his beak and teeth rip the beating hearts from their bodies. May his feet crush their skulls to a pulp."
"Those are some pretty gruesome well wishes," William said.
"Those are wishes from someone who has seen many wars. If you wish him differently than you must wish him dead."
They stared each other down in silence for several minutes. The people nearest the door were slipping outside, and Nita could see there would be a stampede as soon as the folk farther inside came to their senses. The innkeeper flapped his hand at the bard.
With this opening, the bard in the corner climbed onto his stool and played a slightly over-paced version of "The King of Them All" while singing off key. The barkeep pounded a steel mug in time to the music, and the confused drunks couldn't decide where to look. The bard won their attention, and the pub fell back into a more normal rhythm.
Nita breathed a sigh of relief and waved her appreciation to the bard but did not take up the tune. In the moment that she had glanced away, the creepy guy seemed to have disappeared back into the crowd. Putting her disguise back in place, she grabbed her friends by their arms, hopped down from the bar and headed toward the door. It was time to find their next place of announcement.
Down the street was a tavern of a different flavor. The sign above the door named it "Grapeseekers," and it was a solemn-looking place with no people hanging around the entrance. They stepped inside and Nita could see why. The great room was clean, with maybe a dozen tables and no more than two people at any table. Quiet conversation, not drunken blather and bad music, filled the air. There was space enough to walk between the tables. The barkeep who was probably also the owner, approached them before they could get far into the bar.
"How can I help you?" He spoke in a formal, not too friendly voice. His face wore a perfunctory smile, and he wiped his hands on a clean apron.
"We're spreading the good word," Cherise said.
"You're some kind of religious fanatics, are you?"
"No!" Cherise seemed offended. "We are letting everyone know the wizard Gnarkvetch is dead."
"Well, now," said the barkeep, "I've heard all that before, and I've seen many a good man dragged off to certain death by the guards for cheering. Why should I believe you?"
Nita lowered her disguise. "Believe the Silver Sorceress and the Champions of Magic. We killed him not a day past, and we are out to tell the world he will trouble you no more."
The innkeeper's eyes widened. "Well, it don't get more certain than that. I'll pass the word. But you ladies had better step outside now. This is not an appropriate place for you to be."
Nita turned and stalked out. "Why would you open a pub that's not open for women?" she fumed when all her friends had joined her.
"All those men don't want their women following them, that's why." William smiled at her frustration, and she punched him in the arm.
"That innkeeper is a scut anyway," said a man leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him. "Would it surprise you to know he beats his wife if she serves him breakfast late?"
The man from The Full Mug uncrossed his arms and sauntered over to them—the one who had shouted such horrible well wishes for
Chassy. As she watched, his scraggly hair smoothed into black waves and the bump on his nose disappeared. Martu!
"Why so surprised, Silver Sorceress? Did you think a god could not go in disguise, when you walk around in other skins all the time?" He smirked.
Nita cupped her hand and formed a ball of lightning in it. She looked around, but he seemed to be alone this time. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I'm here to join the revelries. Is there anything wrong with that?"
Nita was furious but not prepared to try battling a god, unless he attacked her or her friends.
"Have you decided to join us then?"
"Oh, now that is funny." A group of drunk men staggered past them, leaning on each other for stability and not finding it. He waved his arms at them. "Don't go home yet. Gnarkvetch is dead. Didn't you hear the lady? It's time to celebrate."
His voice set them off balance, and they collapsed in a heap. Martu gave a satisfied laugh and turned back to Nita.
"And now whatever are you going to do about Erise? I'll give you a tip: his door has been unlocked, and he wants to meet you. Your whole family, in fact." Martu winked, turned, and disappeared into the shadows.
Nita stood looking after him, stunned. What game was he playing at now?
"Do you think it's okay to hate a god? Is that blasphemy?" Cherise asked.
"I doubt if Martu cares a whit how you feel about him. But hatred and other negative emotions are a useless drag on your energy." The sage advice came from Andrev, and Nita couldn't disagree. But her former cheer had turned sour, and now she felt cross she had let Martu get under her skin. She also felt exhausted, probably from turning on and off her disguise.
"If Erise is on the loose and is targeting your family, we need to do something about it," William said. "Should we make for Waet Tree Village?"
"Martu is a liar." That came out with an anger and vehemence that she didn't intend. "I don't know why he's saying these things, but I don't believe any of it. There's no way Erise could be free. The gods imprisoned him, and Asa herself watches over him. I say we continue on with our goal of setting this city free." That would make her feel better.
"Don't you think two pubs is enough?" Cherise asked. "I'm itching to leave this place for good."
"The pub-goers may need a day to let the drunk wear off before they even understand what we told them. Let's try something else—how about we get rid of those cages in the middle of town and take care of that wizard?"
Everyone favored the plan. Now that her night was back on track, excitement overwhelmed her anger at Martu, and she let his words fall out of her mind. They all had a job to do. It was high time they made sure the guards took no more prisoners to the town square. She marched off with her arms looped through Andrev and Cherise's, dragging them along.
There was now only one cage in the town square, and perhaps a dozen prisoners. Her heart swelled when she realized this was the work of the Champions of Magic. She marched up to the nearest guard.
"Haven't you heard? The wizard Gnarkvetch is dead," she said. "You can let these people go."
The guard sneered at her. "I won't do that without orders from someone more important than you."
Ah, yes, the disguise. Nita dropped it.
"Am I important enough now? We eliminated the guy who is forcing you to cage these people. Now let them go." She couldn't say the word "killed," though that was the truth of it. Eliminating Gnarkvetch sounded gentler and more humane.
The man's eyes widened. Several other guards noticed her and approached. Good. She powered up her shield and let it flow over her body.
"Let. Them. Go." She emphasized each word, using magic to amplify her voice, so it seemed to echo around them. "The wizard is dead. Free your people, and then go home and live in peace."
The guards talked among themselves, divided on the question of releasing prisoners. Now the young wizard, Fitz, from their last encounter trotted up on another black horse. Nita had had well enough of him last time. Without waiting for any nonsense to start, she improvised and created a round shield bubble the size of a person's head. She flung it to bounce off his chest, knocking him from his saddle. He landed on the ground in a pile but hopped up right away. Nita held him there.
"The time for fighting is past wizard. This is the time for peace. Your boss is dead, and we've captured the ally he was recruiting. We'll give you the choice of joining her in prison at Xillith or changing your ways. I will leave you to think about this while we free the prisoners."
She turned back to the guards. "Well, what are you waiting for?"
They rushed together toward the single cage and threw open the door. The people inside poured out and ran toward her, cheering and shouting. They surrounded her, reaching out to touch her. She tried not to cringe from the weirdness of having people patting all over her, but no one did anything inappropriate. After a few minutes, she walked through them back to Cherise, William, and Andrev, who had become the focus of attention. One guard listened as Cherise recounted for him the final battle with Gnarkvetch.
For good measure, Nita made a shield bubble inside the final cage and expanded it until the seams cracked. The cage collapsed in a heap.
"Well, Nita, you've done it," William said. "You freed all the prisoners as you planned. Gnarkvetch is done for. Looks like the Wizards of the True Faith will be lost to history."
Nita didn't know what she would do now. Should she try to go home? She missed her parents, but she wasn't ready for them to see her yet. They knew nothing of this war. Perhaps to them, she had abandoned home for good.
The townsfolk and guards limped off toward their homes, leaving them almost alone in the square.
"Well, wizard, what's it going to be?" Nita dropped her hold on Fitz.
"I will leave you in peace for now, sorceress," he spat. "But this isn't over. The Wizards of the True Faith will be back to claim their place—"
Nita stopped his voice and held him again, looking to her friends. "That doesn't sound like the call for peace we had hoped for. What do you think? Another special visitor for Xander?"
Cherise nodded. "This one cannot be trusted. It's too bad. He looks like he has so much potential."
"I'm sure they'll rehabilitate him at Xillith." William smirked at Fitz, and the wizard's eyes opened wide.
"All right then. I can recharge the ring, and we'll be off to Xander's."
"Without Jam, the food is sure to be less than great, but the company will be excellent," Andrev said.
"You like Jam's cooking?" Nita acted shocked. "I didn't even know you ate anything all winter."
Andrev rolled his eyes. "Don't be silly. Of course I ate; her food was even better than Henny's. Right now, I am itching for something other than porridge. Anything."
Nita held the ring between her hands and filled it with energy. She called her friends close and tossed it out in front of her.
They stepped inside one at a time, with Nita going last. She stepped through into Xander's great room.
47: Chassy
Chassy sat in front of the fireplace, reading a book from Xander's library. Reading wasn't half bad if you had a good book, he thought. He jumped at Xander's voice.
"Welcome back. I suppose I had better say 'my home is your home' or something like that."
Chassy looked around to see Nita and the rest of his friends picking themselves up after a trip through a portal. They also had a guest with them, the annoying wizard from Lyesfare. Chassy fought down the fury that flooded him when he saw the guy's face.
"I'm sorry. We've brought yet another prisoner who may interest Xillith," Nita said. "But we were also thinking we would enjoy a little good food and good company. We'll be on our way, if this is a bother."
Xander smiled. "Don't be silly. Stay as long as you like. I have extra rooms. I also have extra chores with Jam not around. As long as you're willing to do chores and do a little shopping at the market for me, you can stay as long as you'd like."
C
hassy crossed the room to give Nita a heartfelt hug. He felt badly about how he had treated everyone last time they were together and didn't know how to put it into words. The meditations Xander had taught him helped to clear his mind and eliminate the anger. He still had occasional bursts of frustration, but they were fewer and fewer.
"I must ward another room," Xander said. "Please be comfortable while I do that. I have no more cookies or cakes, but there's a plate of cheese beside the fire and you are welcome to it."
Xander took Fitz with him to the lower level, and Nita hurried over to the cheese plate, looking famished.
"It's more of a cheese mountain." Chassy gestured to the tray, which had an enormous block of cheese on it. Nita cut off a wide chunk and laid into it like she hadn't eaten for weeks. "I see you've been using magic. You know, your mother would tell you to stop gobbling."
"Well, I'm starving, so I'm going to gobble. And I'm also going to talk with my mouth full of cheese if I feel like it. Chassy, you look so much better."
Chassy nodded but didn't offer any details. "Xander has definitely been helping me, and I do feel much better. I remembered something that happened right after Gnarkvetch died, about those stones I've been carrying around."
"The ones you called face stones?"
He nodded. "I think—I think they were people who had been enchanted into stones, and Gnarkvetch's death released them. They were looking down at me, saying something about Xillith."
"Maybe you were hallucinating," Cherise said. "You'd just had a very big shock."
That's right, Cherise knew nothing about the stones talking. She didn't really need to know right now. "Well, also my pack was laying there open like someone rummaged it, and there was no sign of the stones anywhere. But nothing else was missing."
Nita put her arm around him. "It wouldn't surprise me if Gnarkvetch had been capturing his opponents and imprisoning them that way. Especially if they were more powerful than him. I would imagine stones don't do magic very well."
"How did it go, with the town? Is everyone free now?" Chassy asked.