Villains by Necessity (v1.1)

by Eve Forward

  In reply, Sam took out a glass flask he’d swiped from the mage’s room and began rummaging in his pockets.

  Into the flask went a splash of plain water, a bagful of gray powder, the contents of three different colored vials, three white pills, and a final pinch of dried herbs. Sam shook the mixture gently, spat in it for good luck, and handed it to Arcie.

  “Dose the doe,” he whispered, pointing to the deer. “I don’t know quite what that’ll do to a dragon, but it may give us a bit of an edge.”

  “Right,” whispered the Barigan in return, and, silent as a mouse, he crept out into the open.

  I wonder if dad ever had to do such a thing, he wondered, as he made his way along the loose pebbles, careful not to make the slightest crunch under his soft feet.

  Thirty feet, twenty feet, ten ... fates, the dragon was huge. Don’t look at it, look at the deer. Disemboweled.

  Remains of another lying nearby, and a third. Blood on the rocks, slippery ... a stumble ...

  The dragon snorted softly. Arcie froze and wished the gods of thieves and rogues were still around so he’d have someone to pray to. He whipped off a quick promise to the memory of Baris and Bella, twin gods of thieves and dark mischief, just in case. The dragon’s huge eyelids twitched, dreaming ... then its slow heavy breathing resumed. Arcie took a deep breath himself, and carefully but quickly covered the remaining distance to the deer.

  He swiftly poured the contents of the flask over the raw flesh, nodded in satisfaction as he saw it mingle with the blood and meat and become undetectable. Sam was a bother at times, but he certainly knew his business.

  The thief carefully turned around on the loose shingle and made his way back to the tunnel. He had been so quiet, so cautious, that not even the Druid had seen him.

  “Now what?” hissed Valerie, as Arcie tumbled back into the safety of the tunnel.

  “Now we wait,” answered Sam. Arcie looked out at the dragon again. Where was its treasure? he wondered.

  Not here, certainly. It must have another lair, elsewhere; thievish interests thwarted again. He’d have to watch for another chance to grab some dragon gold.

  A short way away, a Wilderkin also thought of gold. A nice pile of it seemed to have been left in this niche, and he was just reaching for it when it opened a sparkling eye and looked at him. “Whez, what is it with all these people today? You want the dragon too? Straight, third ‘left, fourth right, up stairs, second door by the wall fountain,” the coins thrummed. “Stars!” gasped Dusty. “Talking money!”

  “People?” asked Tesubar, looking at the Aydaptor.

  “Speak, Aydaptor, what people?”

  “Oh, a short guy and a scruffy guy and a black-robed sorceress and a centaur and a person who didn’t talk much,” it purred. “Friends of yours?”

  “The villains!” cried Tasmene, drawing his sword.

  “Come on!”

  “Oh Tesubar!” piped Dusty. “Isn’t it neat! Can I have it for a pet?”

  Tesubar shrugged, and said, “Well, if it will hush your prattling...” He swiftly incanted a spell as the rest of the party of heroes hurried past up the passage, following the Aydaptor’s instructions. “Kindafar mimicant domesticallin inerticus!”

  “No!” wailed the Aydaptor in anguish as it felt its attack capability thwarted, and was scooped up into the delighted Wilderkin’s arms.

  “I’m gonna call you George,” Dusty told it happily, as he hurried after Tesubar and the others. It moaned softly, and turned into a small box of wood in despair.

  They had waited, it seemed, for far too long. At last the dragon snorted again and opened its huge golden eyes.

  Its scaly brow wrinkled a moment, and it sniffed the air, Lumathix could smell something not quite right... but the foul dragon reek of Kazikuckia still lingered too strong, and of course there was this human female as well. Hard to tell anything. He turned his great head toward her and coughed a puff of smoke.

  “Well, Druid,” he trilled, in his shrill voice, “had any second thoughts yet?” He tapped his claw on the staff meaningfully. The wood flexed slightly under the pressure, and Kaylana winced. One good swat would snap her staff like a toothpick and ... she forced herself to glare at the dragon, avoiding its eyes.

  “Never.”

  “Come now, your band of villains has abandoned you, and your misguided way of life vanished forever. Why don’t you come around to the Light?” fluted Lumathix.

  “Because this world is mine and I am going to save it,” snapped Kaylana defiantly.

  Lumathix sighed and began tidying up, raking up the leftover bones with his claws and shoving them behind an outcropping, where they vanished down a deep shaft. “I do wish you’d see reason,” he shrilled petulantly, extending his long neck to pick up his half-finished deer. “Are you hungry?”

  “I will not eat that rotting flesh,” snarled Kaylana.

  Thank Hruul for that, thought Sam to himself, relieved.

  The dragon seemed miffed. “Well, fine,” it sniffed, crunching down the deer with huge bites of its sharp teeth. “I’m going to go pick up some more food from Sir Fenwick’s men,” it said, licking its chops. Sam began counting silently, more for curiosity’s sake than expectation. One... two ...

  “Shall I bring you something?” Lumathix asked.

  Kaylana rattled slightly in her chains.

  “Do me no favors, lizard,” she growled.

  Six... seven...

  “Going to go see Fenwick ... right after ...” the dragon’s eyes began to glaze. “Right after a li’l nappynap.” It sank with a sigh back into its nest and began snoring softly. Kaylana stared at it in surprise.

  “Come on,” said Sam, scrambling up out of the hole.

  “We’ve got to work fast,” he added, pulling Arcie out after him. They hurried over to where Kaylana was imprisoned. She was mildly surprised to see them.

  “Well, it took you a long while,” she commented, as they reached her. “You are going to need Valerie, if you intend to release me ... these chains are magical.”

  “I’ll get the dark lass,” said Arcie, hurrying back to the tunnel while Sam gave Kaylana an odd look.

  “What do you mean, if we intend to release you?” he asked.

  Kaylana looked down at her sandaled feet idly. “I was not sure,” she answered. “I knew you all were of evil when I met you, and I am afraid I have not treated you too well on this quest ... I thought you might welcome the chance to be rid of me.”

  “Well,” said Sam with a faint smile, “they’re doing it because they need a healer ... But I...”

  “Here’s Valerie,” announced Arcie, running up with the sorceress following just behind. Sam looked back at the tunnel and saw that Blackmail and the centaur, his knees scraped, had also emerged, Blackmail holding the centaur close by with a drawn blade. “What did they do that for?” he asked Arcie, as Valerie began inspecting the chains.

  “Hostage,” explained Arcie briefly, as Valerie began to chant. “In the case the dragon should wake up. As Robin are a good fellow, yon dragon will hopefully not kill us do we have Robin’s life in our hands.”

  “Good thinking,” nodded Sam. There was a crackling behind them, and Kaylana stepped away from the wall, free and rubbing her wrists.

  “I shall need my staff,” she announced. They looked over to where it was. Lumathix had taken his claw off it, but it was still uncomfortably close to the huge bulk of the dragon. It stretched like a fragile bridge across the tops of two tall, water-smoothed stalagmites.

  “I canna climb those pillars,” muttered Arcie.

  “I can,” answered Sam softly, and he was off across the lair like a lanky shadow.

  “He’s crazy, that one,” Arcie informed Valerie, jerking a thumb in Sam’s direction. “Utterly mad.”

  Sam had no idea how long the dragon would rest in its drugged slumber. He thought if no loud noise woke it, it might sleep almost a quarter of an hour. He ran on quiet feet to the nearest stalagmite,
rubbed his palms, and began climbing.

  The surface was slippery from eons of water dripping from the cavern ceiling, and the rounded edges provided few handholds. But he persevered, and soon a grasping hand closed around oakwood that tingled faintly in his grasp. He gripped it tightly and slid down, and made his way quickly and quietly back to Kaylana. She met him halfway, with what might almost have been a trace of a smile of thanks. He handed her the staff with a bow and was about to say something witty and charming when a commotion near the tunnel entrance jerked him back to reality.

  Blackmail and Robin jumped away from the tunnel just in time to avoid a huge ball of fire that came rushing out of the hole and exploded with a boom. Following close behind was a sword-wielding, war-cry-shouting band of heroes. Lumathix jerked his head up at the sudden noise, his huge vertical pupils dilated from the drug, and roared with a depth and timbre that surprised everyone, including himself.

  The villains were outnumbered, the way they had come in barred by heroes, the only other way out guarded by an intoxicated dragon and, in any case, a sheer drop through a thousands of feet of empty space.

  “Run!” shouted Kaylana, pushing Sam toward the corner. “He has a dump-chute in the corner!” They ran.

  But things were happening too fast. Arrows whizzed around their heads, and another fireball crashed so close behind the fleeing figures of Blackmail and Robin that part of the centaur’s tail sizzled off. And then the dragon pounced, its huge head inhaling for the fieriest, fiercest blast of flame of its whole career.

  We are not going to make it! thought Kaylana, as they ran. There is no time! The staff was warm under her hand, and she could feel it suddenly swirling with a suggestion of a powerful spell, under the guidance of centuries of Druidic wisdom. Yes, that would work, but I do not have the focuses, the components ... I should need fireblooms and saxifrage and a dozen different kinds of rare plants ... Especially the magical pixy-clovers... But maybe she did have those! Kaylana grabbed her belt, snapping loose the dried and tattered wreath of flowers Sam had woven.

  She called up the power, throwing the blooms into the air as the focus. And there were the shimmering fibers of seconds, woven through like the stems of dried blossoms ... The staff prickled in her grasp as a surge of power coursed through it. She grabbed hold of reality and twisted.

  Druids were the priests and magicians of nature and the elements. Kaylana, with her staff of distilled wisdom and power, could exercise control over air, fire, water and earth, could help life to flourish or set it to wilt. Her magic could make sun out of rain, and even make sum mer follow autumn in a small area, had she willed it hard enough. And thus it was she twisted one of the most tricky elements in existence—time.

  Arrows slowed in midair, the shouts of the heroes crawling to a blur of noise. The dragon flamed in slowmotion, a great puff of crimson fire bursting from its gullet; they dodged the crawling flames as easily as they outran the arrows. A lightning bolt, fired by Tesubar, headed at a slightly faster pace for Blackmail, but he dodged around a clump of rocks and the bolt flashed with a slow shower of blue and purple sparks. The scram bling of their running feet sounded loud in the slowed cavern. Then the chute showed ahead, and one by one they flung themselves down it, a moment before the creeping yet still deadly flames of the dragon washed over the entrance. As the villains slid down the slick, nonetoo-clean tunnel, they heard the dragon’s roar suddenly snap back into full speed, and a barely tolerable wave of heat reached them. There was a clattering, crashing sound as the rock wall snapped, melted, and broke out side the tunnel, huge molten chunks bouncing down after them as the entrance caved in from the heat of the dragon’s breath.

  To the heroes and dragon the villains they had been pursuing seemed to suddenly vanish in a blur; the heroes exchanged confused glances as the dragon clawed at the chute’s entrance in a rage, burying it still further.

  “We must follow!” roared Sir Reginald, brandishing his huge sword.

  “Don’t be a fool!” countered Tesubar haughtily. “We have no idea where that chute leads ... it may dump them out into the Abyss for all we know!”

  “No! Don’t go down there!” shrilled the dragon. “It ends in a sheer plummet into the chasm ... they’ll all be smashed. Oh, my aching head ...” he moaned, pressing his paws to the sides of his huge skull.

  “No more running away!” vowed Sam at the top of his lungs as they tumbled end over end down the chute, sometimes banging against the sides.

  “Baris’s balls! It just go on and on!” cried Arcie, as he dropped like a stone. “Most curiouser and curiouser!”

  Robin had just discovered his bracelet was no longer functioning.

  “Aaaaaaahheeeeeeeeeeeeehiiiiiiiihhhihhhhhihhhhhihhhhhhi!!!!!”

  “Silence, you imbecile centaur! Bad enough we have to die without listening to you screaming!” shouted Valerie.

  The raven cawed in fury and fear, plummeting with its mistress, its soul-link too strong to abandon her.

  “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiihiiiii-” There was the sudden whacking sound of a mailed gauntlet knocking a centaur upside the head, and the noise stopped.

  “Do something, Valerie!” Kaylana requested loudly.

  “Any suggestions?! There’s too many of us to levitate!”

  “Slow us down, then! I shall handle the landing!”

  “Postulum momentum entropicus descendus-” Valerie squeezed her eyes shut as she hurriedly wove a spell.

  The air seemed to thicken around them, just as the chute suddenly did a slick curve and shot them out into the air and sunlight, with craggy mountains all around and a very rocky bottom looming below them. They swooped up into the air and then began to fall, slower, but not slow enough.

  “Hahoo!” cried a voice. There was a faint crackle around them as a swirl of energy plummeted past them, toward the rocks below ...

  The jagged stones racing up to meet them abruptly seemed to blur and run ...

  There was a series of loud splocking noises as a Barigan, an assassin, a sorceress, a Druid, a centaur and a knight fell one by one into a deep pool of soft mud. “Effective,” commented Valerie, as they scrambled out. “Messy, but effective.”

  “I am so glad you approve,” muttered Kaylana.

  “Sanitarius,” muttered Valerie, and a shower of shimmering purple-black lights enveloped her. The coat of mud fell away, and her clothes, hair, and skin were clean once more.

  Kaylana found a large boulder as the others were trying to brush the mud off as best they could. Blackmail, for reasons best known to himself, was dragging the unconscious centaur out of the thick mud. The others didn’t give the minstrel a second thought. Kaylana spoke a few words of magic and tapped the stone lightly with the point of her staff. A gush of clear water fountained from the bare rock. Sam was uncomfortably reminded of the shamans of Mula.

  “Wash yourselves off,” she recommended, as the party hastened over. “It will not last long.”

  Soon, damp but clean, with the magical spring depleted, they contemplated their next move.

  “Well, where are we?” asked Sam. He glanced over at the centaur, who was still out cold. “By the way, Kaylana, I’ve got to bring you up to date on our fourlegged fink over there ...” he moved over to talk to her as Arcie answered his question.

  “I’ve gotten a map,” volunteered Arcie, taking out a folded piece of paper. Valerie eyed it suspiciously as the Barigan unfolded it.

  “That looks like a Wilderkin drew it,” she said.

  “Well, perhaps so,” admitted Arcie. “But it’s still a map.”

  “Are you a Wilderkin?” Valerie asked rhetorically.

  Arcie shook his curly head. “Then it won’t help us.” The thief snorted and consulted the map.

  “Horsefeathers! Tis perfectly simple, see you, here’s the mountains, there are the ocean. Nay, I’m mistook, ‘tis a desert. I’m sorry ... wait, nay, that’s a ... west is ... um ...” His eyebrows curled up in confusion like dying caterpillars. “Um. We
ll, we’re at in a gorge of mountains, ‘tis obvious enough.” He quickly folded the map and put it away in his tobacco pouch.

  “Ohhoooyy,” came a quavering moan, and Robin slowly staggered to his hooves, rubbing his head. Finding himself muddy, he set his hooves and shook himself, nearly splattering the others, then pulled his bedraggled hat out of the mud, and put it on. Robin looked at the knight accusingly. “You hit me,” he grumbled. Blackmail nodded his head; Robin decided not to press the issue, but nervously took out his harp, making sure it was undamaged.

  “What time are it?” asked Arcie.

  “Two of your clock, after noon,” answered Kaylana.

  “Six o’clock,” said Sam.

  They looked at each other. “It is two by the sun,” asserted Kaylana.

  “It’s six by my timesense,” answered Sam.

  “Whatever it be, it’s light out,” said Arcie. “Plenty of time to be making a start out of here ...”

  They began to make their laborious way through the crags of the mountains. The chute had dropped them on the far side of Putak-Azum, where foothills and crags they had not seen in their earlier approach nuzzled against the side of the huge central mountain. A small path, perhaps used by the ancient Dwarves, availed itself, and they followed it.

  It led them up among the rocks and boulders. They had to scramble along in silence in several places, and Robin had more than a little difficulty. None of them spoke to him. If Robin suspected that they had found him out, he gave no sign. Unable to report to Mizzamir, he was harmless. They could easily have killed him, but there didn’t seem to be much point; he was rather a pitiful figure, a little difficult to just slay in cold blood. Sam could have done it, but not without payment; Valerie could have also, but felt it was a waste of her power. They were content, for now, to let him tag along, as a possible hostage or bait.

  A narrow cliff-ledge almost solved their problem for them. Robin, bringing up the rear, began trembling uncontrollably as he looked over the edge. The ground seemed to spin and swoop far, far below him. His legs began to shake like leaves.