In the Grip of Time

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In the Grip of Time Page 22

by Adam Jacob Burgess


  ‘At the fireworks,’ he blurted out. He signalled toward the city centre.

  Alla’fyr released his arm and smiled, sickly sweet in an instant.

  ‘There was nothing difficult about that, was there?’

  The man tripped over himself to run away, clutching at the flesh of his seared arm. Alla’fyr watched him scamper off. The thing she knew about hard work was that it didn’t matter after all. You could spend your life working as hard as you could, but you’d just be passed over in the end for someone less deserving. Alla’fyr screeched into the air, fire streaming from her feet. The buildings here were mostly one or two storeys tall. She shot over alleyways, traders’ yards, markets, speeding along the roofs to the large church in the centre of Spearca. Here she settled at a distance and saw the fireworks display being set up. The city folk were laughing, readying themselves for a spectacle.

  ‘Simple pleasures for simple folk,’ she tutted.

  Alla’fyr leapt from the roof down to street level, her thoughts whirring. It was the whole system that was wrong and that was why it needed to be burnt to the ground. She produced a flame in her right hand. ‘Perhaps I should give them a real show,’ Alla’fyr considered. ‘But no, I shouldn’t get sidetracked.’

  The robed figure extinguished her fiery palm and approached the crowd. Meandering through, she watched for any sign of the foolish old dwarf or the pathetic little gnome. It had galled her to see the gnome’s naiveté elevated to notoriety in Dorienne, so she knew that she’d take particular pleasure in ending her life. Putting on her most demure voice, Alla’fyr asked a local, ‘Excuse me. Please could you tell me where I could get a meal?’

  ‘Well, most places are closed now of course,’ one of the city folks answered.

  ‘Igor’s place will be open,’ a woman joined in.

  ‘That old grouch hates this kind of thing,’ a third local spoke up.

  ‘And where would I find Igor’s place?’ Alla’fyr spoke again, all innocence.

  ‘It’s The Heart and The Cross, over on Levellersgate. Head West out of the square and you’ll see it on your right in a little bit.’

  ‘Oh thank you so much,’ she said, blushing. She thought about how easy it was to get fools to bend over backwards.

  The three city folk she’d spoken to quickly became involved in other conversations, while Alla’fyr slunk away into the shadows. After she had gone, all three stood stock still for a moment. A tiny image of a white horned mask glinted in their eyes, and then vanished. They each shook their heads thinking they had briefly zoned out of their conversation.

  Alla’fyr walked to the pub, conserving her magic. It wasn’t that she doubted her ability to crush the puny guild and retrieve their idol, but there were seven of them. If they were to be coordinated, they could slow her down. And although she longed to torture that pesky gnome, it would be best to end her quickly. She would return to Dorienne, receive payment from Eugenie, and then destroy the princess before she could use the Ancient Device. Messing with time was idiotic. Of course, Eugenie didn’t deserve to die because of that, but her death was necessary to breed chaos in Esh’areth.

  Outside the pub, Alla’fyr could see candlelight blinking through the windows. She pushed open the door, slowly. Inside she received a shock. A large white banner hung over the bar. It read:

  WELCOME ALLA’FYR.

  Before she had a moment to react, Sawwse appeared from behind the bar and yelled, ‘Surprise!’ She wore her woodland party hat and played a jaunty tune on a harmonica.

  ‘Come on, just through this way,’ the gnome said, as if speaking to an old friend. She gestured for Alla’fyr to follow her into a back room.

  ‘A fun game, but a mere distraction. Where is the idol?’ Alla’fyr lit up her hands. She thought she’d taught the gnome enough of a lesson back in the tomb, but it appeared the message hadn’t sunk in.

  ‘Yes, it’s the idol we need to talk about.’

  ‘I’m not convinced there is anything to discuss,’ the mage said with a menacing grin. ‘Unless of course, this is a counter-offer.’

  ‘You’ve nailed it. Come on back.’

  Sawwse beamed as she led the dangerous mage into the back room. Against her better judgement, Alla’fyr put out the fire in her hands and followed with intrigue. ‘This’ll be fun,’ she thought. ‘It’ll be cute to see whatever plan they’ve put together come crumbling down around them.’

  Alla’fyr entered a small, square room. An oak table stood centrally in the space and bottles lined the dusty shelves. She didn’t know it, but it looked remarkably similar to the storage room back in The Happy Hearth. The tricksy gnome sat down on one side of the table. The mage sat in the chair that was pulled out opposite her.

  ‘Well, thank you for coming today, Ms. Alla’fyr,’ Sawwse said earnestly, like an official. ‘I’d first like to ask what attracted you to this position?’

  Alla’fyr drew out a long sigh, unamused. Here was a prime example of a fool who got by on charm and luck. ‘I bet she’s never known a day’s hard graft in her whole life,’ she thought. ‘She rises on the backs of others. The rules of the world were bent for creatures like this and that is why those rules need to change.’

  ‘Thank you,’ the gnome replied, pretending to jot down notes. ‘That was... enlightening.’ Sawwse raised her eyebrows. ‘Perhaps you could tell us a little about your strengths and weaknesses?’

  ‘Your Gnomish tricks may amuse others, but for a moment I thought you were prepared to be serious.’

  ‘I am deadly serious,’ Sawwse dribbled a little as she spoke. ‘What makes you think otherwise?’ Sawwse flashed a big open-mouthed grin, letting more dribble run down her chin.

  ‘This is disappointing,’ Alla’fyr answered, feeling her frustration grow. The fallen mage pulsed fiery energy into her palms and showed them to the gnome.

  ‘Okay, okay, let’s get serious,’ Sawwse said, wiping her mouth. ‘What’s it going to cost for you to call off your search for the idol?’

  ‘More than money,’ Alla’fyr replied, flatly.

  ‘We have more than money. We have companionship, friendship. We have adventures and stories. We have,’ Sawwse paused, ‘hugs.’

  ‘Do you have access to a kingdom’s ear? Do you have access to said kingdom’s coffers? Are you able to manipulate them like soft clay?’

  Alla’fyr continued to make her hands flame hot.

  ‘Well, no,’ Sawwse shrugged.

  ‘This is much bigger than you know, gnome,’ Alla’fyr spat. ‘Feral times approach. There are actors more powerful than me operating across the world to bring about complete and total chaos. These world-defining shifts are bigger than all of us, but especially you. Let me make it perfectly clear that you are small.’ She emphasised this last word. ‘Mauro and Francesco are already working their way into Ishgari and Magnarra. Once I’ve disposed of Eugenie, we’ll burn Dorienne to the ground. And then we’ll start over. Rewrite the rules. And we’ll get away with it too, because people always flock to the powerful when they are in chaos.’

  Her eyes were lit with glowing embers.

  ‘Now, hand over the idol,’ Alla’fyr demanded again.

  ‘So, these actors you mentioned? Are they playing surgeons?’ Sawwse asked. She stared back at the mage, impassive. ‘Or are they actors who just happen to also be surgeons?’

  ‘Where is the idol?’ Alla’fyr said, angrier now.

  ‘It’s just that, if they are operating across the world, they should be certified in some way. I’m just thinking, you’re leaving yourself open to all kinds of malpractice claims if they’re doing operations under false pretences. I know my colleague Corinne would be more than happy to read over any documents-’

  ‘I think it’s time we brought this charming heart-to-heart to an end,’ the mage snapped, her patience finally stretched too thin. She produced a flame in each hand. ‘I’ll relish this.’ Alla’fyr grinned malevolently and clapped he
r hands together. Sparks jumped into the four corners of the room and lined the walls, and smoke began to fill the air. The fallen mage began walking away from the table, content to let the gnome suffocate without hope of escape.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Sawwse said, chuckling.

  Alla’fyr stopped walking and returned to face the gnome. ‘Excuse me?’ A furious anger burnt her throat.

  ‘I said, I’m sorry. I just don’t think we can offer you the job at this time,’ said the gnome, fully aware that she’d gotten under the mage’s skin. ‘Anger management issues,’ she added, smiling sympathetically.

  ‘You’re no more than a fool who’s in way over her head,’ replied Alla’fyr. ‘You should have died back in the tomb. I gave you the chance, but you didn’t take it. And now, instead, I’ll have my fun with you.’

  Alla’fyr jutted her arms out in front of her and shot beams of hot fire at the gnome. Sawwse’s face blurred and flickered in the heat, and then disappeared completely. The fallen mage reeled backwards. In Sawwse’s place now sat the long-haired, thin frame of Convener. His white horned mask grinned creepily, melting in the heat. With a click of his fingers the oak table and the dusty shelves disappeared. In their place were stacks of barrels, Alla’fyr’s flames lovingly caressing them. In bold block lettering, the barrels were marked ‘GUNPOWDER’.

  ‘You-’ Alla’fyr managed.

  The room exploded.

  Chapter 20: Spearca

  The last of the sky’s ochre colour had dissolved, darkening the city. Night rushed in without a second thought for dusk. As was customary on this particular date, the city folk began to kindle their fireworks. A curated selection were held back, to be lit when the church bell chimed, but others were fired up to the heavens individually or in small flurries.

  Boom! The first explosion startled Sawwse as the street she was standing in briefly glowed red. She looked skyward and saw the second rocket shatter, splintering gold embers. Her surroundings faded, becoming indistinct once more. The guild knew that if Alla’fyr had survived Convener’s trap, she would be prepared to unleash calamity on the city in order to find Mirrah and procure the idol. The team had split up across the city centre in preparation for this, and Mirrah had been hidden in a safe house, away from the ensuing danger.

  Ba-koom-boom! Dazzling emerald fire reflected off the shards of metal in the blacksmith’s yard, glimmering in Vadania’s eyes. The elf sat patiently. Her perception had been honed through years of hunting in the forests. A small brown speckled cat slinked out from behind the workshop and curled up next to her for a while, unfazed by the crackling thunder above.

  Fffyeeew! Fffyeeew! Fffyeeew! Osrik could have sworn he’d seen a figure turn down this alleyway. He clutched two handaxes, quicker to launch than his wizened battle-axe. Was it that he had spent so many long years fighting in skirmishes and wars overground, or was his eyesight finally fading? Storage crates, rubbish and bins all glowed an incongruously pretty amber. Osrik breathed in. The alley even smelt better while bathed in this light. Then the indistinguishable shapes returned. He edged forward.

  Skriiii-skriiii-skriiii! Long tails of vermillion rushed through the sky. Some distance away a comet trailed a dazzling likeness. Although she was terrified by the prospect of coming face to face with Alla’fyr, Ruby forced herself to concentrate. The others had told her that it was unlikely she’d come across Alla’fyr on the rooftops, and Ruby kept that reassuring thought circling through her head.

  Pfffft-pop! Rangrim stood sentry by the main square, trying to ensure that the city folk weren’t dragged too deeply into this potential disaster. This was an opportunity for him to prove himself. He poked his head around the corner and briefly observed the festival atmosphere in the square. But wait, was that a stall offering ale? Rangrim knew he should stay in his position, but what a tempting price on that porter.

  Fzzzz-snap! The sounds whizzed past Corinne as she paced across the rooftops. The darkness she was used to tingled and textured as the fireworks screamed into the air. Corinne calculated their trajectories and deduced that they were all within her regulations. She listened carefully to the city. They still had some time before the bell chimed and the main display began. Once it started, it would be harder for her to stop Alla’fyr amongst the cacophony.

  A lull. Silence fell upon the city centre while the city folk waited for the huge firework display to commence. Sawwse stared down the street ahead of her. The buildings were crooked, leaning forwards and backwards. She could just about see the top of the church poking out above a gap between the shops and houses. Moving slowly, she kept close to the buildings on the left side of the street, which had marginally more cover. Sawwse breathed deeply, nervously. It wasn’t clear to her whether she was pursuer or pursued in this moment.

  In the alley, Osrik had inched his way forward to a brick wall. ‘When did it get this warm?’ he thought to himself, as beads of sweat began rolling from his forehead. He ran his fingers across the coarse bricks, and for a moment he lost himself. No longer in a dark alley in the city of Spearca, he was transported back to his first home, Ironforge. Running around the walled garden, he trailed his fingers along the stonework and looked up at his smiling mother.

  ‘So I was happy once,’ he muttered aloud, unsure why this particular memory had floated to the surface, but allowing himself to bask in its brief glow.

  The fallen mage’s most powerful weapon was fire, but she was also very capable with magic of the mind. Osrik had opened up to her once before when he toiled in her service, and now was her time to use this against him: planting a memory from his guarded past.

  Normally the first to sense a mental intrusion, Osrik realised too late that he had missed the signs. Terror seeks the infirm.

  ‘Hells,’ he growled.

  A great swirling column of fire suddenly rose above the buildings. Corinne heard the roar of the flames and began skimming and gliding over the rooftops towards it. The sky burned on the other side of the city centre from Ruby. Taking a cheetah form, she launched herself into action.

  Sawwse turned a corner just in time to see the dark figure of Osrik engulfed within a wall of golden and crimson flames.

  ‘Osrik!’ she screamed in terror.

  Sawwse froze. The heat from the fire had shifted and distorted the alley, and she couldn’t focus on what should happen next. Her eyes darted around looking for some kind of clue as to what she should do. Transfixed, she watched as embers from the column leaped to the buildings either side of it and caught fire.

  It was unfortunate timing that one of the overeager city folks had consumed slightly too much beer. It was also unfortunate that this individual happened to be in charge of starting the firework display at the agreed signal. Vision blurred, Simon Tattersdale saw the column of fire rise into the sky and assumed it was the bonfire. Stumbling forward, he looked up at the church bell tower and could’ve sworn he saw the bell rocking back and forth.

  ‘My hearing’s dodgy at the best of times,’ he slurred to himself. Taking out his matches, Simon bent down and swayed towards the waiting piles of fireworks. He struck his match along the ground and lit the fuses.

  Back in front of the towering inferno, Alla’fyr stood staring at the diminutive gnome. She was badly injured from the gunpowder explosion, and knew that she should probably escape while she still had the chance, but her teeth clenched at the sight of the tricksy little creature. Besides, it would only take a moment. She should have known that even flashes of hubris can unmake a person.

  Flames whipped this way and that, blurring and shifting as the now-visible figure of Alla’fyr walked slowly towards Sawwse, who remained unmoved. Deep within the fiery pillar, Osrik, blistered and burnt, felt ashamed to have been caught off guard by a cheap mind trick.

  As his consciousness drew to a close, he watched Alla’fyr approaching the musical gnome who had become his friend. Summoning the very last of his energy, he roared and launched one of his handaxes
towards Alla’fyr.

  Turning suddenly at the scream, Alla’fyr dodged to her left, avoiding the full force of the axe, but still allowing herself to be hit. The blade, now white with heat, caught her right shoulder: seaming through her cloak and searing the flesh underneath as it cut.

  With that, the pillar of flames fell to the ground, releasing Osrik from its fiery prison, and Sawwse from her stupefied state. The gnome instantly recalled the initial plan. Convener had pulled Sawwse’s mental projection into the meeting with Alla’fyr because she’d offered herself up as bait for the trap. Cupping her hands together, the gnome shouted over to Alla’fyr.

  ‘Oi, skull head!’ she yelled. As she ran, hoping to draw Alla’fyr out of the alley, Sawwse wondered briefly whether that was really the best insult she could have come up with.

  Osrik collapsed onto his back. The flames licking the buildings beside him continued to grow. His fortitude had saved him from the worst of the blaze, so if he could just get back up, he’d be able to help Sawwse. His body would not let him. He lay looking up at the stars in the night above. They began to explode and dance across the sky in every colour imaginable. These colourful patterns began to stick and merge in the skies, until the heavens looked like a paint-spattered canopy.

  Bolting out of the alley and onto the street, Sawwse knew that she would be outpaced by Alla’fyr shortly. The city stretched out in front of her, blooming in strange hues: magenta begat cyan begat jasmine. The fireworks popped and whizzed, and Sawwse began to pick out their rhythms. She joined in with their noises and raised her arms to the sky as if conducting, ‘Ba-ba-ba frrrooom fzzz bap!’ Remembering her lessons with Con Duco, Sawwse imbued these verbal pops with speed and willed herself to escape. Her legs started to move faster and faster as she increased the distance between herself and Alla’fyr.

  Fwoomph! A bolt of fire surged just inches from Sawwse’s head, igniting a timber-framed building. Fwa-fwumph! Flames lanced past the gnome, burning her left side and setting the right arm of her tunic alight. Patting the fire out as she ran, Sawwse stole a glance behind her and saw a face full of hatred. Alla’fyr’s left hand burned with a red hot force and her crimson robes billowed behind her: a fireball hurtling towards the gnome. Her right arm trailed alongside her limply.

 

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