Legends of Windemere: 02 - Prodigy of Rainbow Tower

by Charles E Yallowitz

  His rage flares as he remembers the slimy skin and choking dirt that filled his world for a month. He chokes it back with a growl before continuing. “Now, my shoulder spike is all that is missing. If I fail to get it back then I will be mocked by my brothers and sister. The masters of the Chaos Void will see to it that I suffer greatly if I am returned in such a state. Losing a piece of one’s body to an enemy is seen as a mark of weakness until that piece is regained and reattached.”

  “That does bring up the question of your age,” Trinity mentions. She pulls out her waterskin to take a long drink of cherry wine. “I guess it also brings up the question of your gender.”

  “Demons have no true gender. As for my age, I am in my twentieth year,” the demon grumbles. The result is Trinity shooting wine out of her mouth and hacking until she regains her breath.

  “You’re nothing more than a fledgling?”

  “Yes.”

  “You have never planned a raid before?”

  “No.”

  “The only target you have ever known is Luke Callindor?”

  “Yes.”

  Trinity laughs with glee and bravely smacks the demon on the lower back. “This changes a few things. I’m going to help you out a bit. You need experience in more than combat and we will do this at the Lich’s expense. You can help me with our planning. If you don’t tell your master then you can have more input than him. Do you have any ideas for an attack? Take your time and remember that you will have ten of my men with you.”

  “You waste our time again. It is not my place to plan such things,” the Hellfire Elf argues, his eyes flickering with frustration. “I follow orders until my contract is fulfilled. Then, I return to the Chaos Void and await my next summons.”

  “Then, I shall ask you a different question,” she declares, her child-like curiosity toward the demon getting the best of her. “Is there any advantage to the Callindor having your shoulder spike?”

  The assassin thinks for a few seconds, closing his eyes and sniffing at the wind. “I can track my spike. As long as he has it on him, I can follow Luke Callindor. He can never hide from me until I regain my lost part. I can also scry on him during the day of darkness, but that time has already passed. I might be able to . . .”

  “We don’t need you to scry on him,” Trinity interrupts, waving his words away. “My master’s agent will take care of the spying when it’s needed. Now, I do believe we can use your tracking ability to our advantage. Anything more would be too complicated for the role you’re playing in this game. I order you to follow the ship at a safe distance. I want you to contact me as soon as you feel that they are nearing a point where our attack force would hold an advantage. Be patient and do not choose too quickly. I will teleport my men to your exact location and I will leave you in charge of the attack. Do we have a plan?”

  “Not yet, but I have an alteration to your plan,” the demon claims, becoming more comfortable around the chaos elf.

  “I like to see initiative and intelligence in my servants,” she happily purrs.

  “It is a simple strategy. I will not follow Luke Callindor because I always know where he is. Physically following him is wasted effort and can result in either the priest or the caster sensing my presence,” the Hellfire Elf says with a proud smile. “Instead, I will move ahead of the ship in search of the perfect ambush spot. Rivers have narrow areas and twists that we can use to our advantage. With enough time and the help of your men, I can prepare one of these areas for a sneak attack. I hope this is a satisfactory strategy for you and my master.”

  Trinity silently nods her approval before the gemstone in her forehead begins to glow. A pair of black wings forms from her back and she steps off the edge of the arena. “I support your plan. Now, I must leave for Rodillen. Good hunting.”

  The Hellfire Elf watches her vanish into the darkness. The demon can taste battle on the wind, which forces a howl of rage to erupt from its demonic throat. All forms of bird and beast join in the deafening howl. The sounds echo through all of Gaia as the demon becomes a tiny bat and leaves the city behind.

  *****

  The L’dandrin River is quiet and calm as the sun stretches into early afternoon. Sturdy hardwood trees mingle with mangroves at the edge of the clear water. An occasional fir can be found along the sloping shore, but it is mostly oaks, elms, birches, and mangroves. In some areas, the trees form a solid wall of trunks and branches along both sides of the river. It is in these guarded waters where salmon are so abundant that the sound of the fish jumping out of the water is as common as the melodic frog songs. Only river sharks and red eagles pose a threat to the salmon here. It is when the ship is in one of these protected sections of the river that Nimby finally wakes up.

  “Where am I?” he asks in a gravelly voice while looking out to the treetops around him.

  “You’re on the River Scout,” replies a female voice from behind him.

  “I figured I was on a boat since everything is moving,” Nimby says, refusing to turn around until his head clears. “I just don’t know why everything looks so weird.”

  “The forest tracker put you in the crow’s nest when you started snoring,” the sweet voice answers.

  Nimby finally turns around to see a female halfling with brown, braided hair down to her ankles. Her clothes are a white shirt and brown pants like every other sailor on the ship. She is busy tying knots into a rope before dropping it to the deck below where a passing sailor catches it. A spyglass on her belt jangles against a bag that holds either coins or stones. The girl is a few inches shorter and more slender than Nimby. Her oceanic, green eyes and olive skin give her an exotic look. Nimby is not surprised to find one of her kind on the ship, but he is caught off guard by how cute she is. There is something else that is off about her that the thief just can’t put his finger on.

  “My name is Nimby,” he says, giving her a small bow.

  “Hi, Nimby. I’m Myilia,” the girl says with a giggle.

  “So, what are you doing on this ship?” he asks before thinking. She can tell that he gave himself a mental kick for sounding foolish.

  “I’m the lookout and pathsmith on this ship. There isn’t a ship on Windemere that doesn’t have a waverunner on its crew,” Myilia declares. She slaps Nimby on the back with enough force to push him.

  “That goes without saying. Your kind can calm the seas during a storm and coax wind into the sails,” Nimby states, genuine praise in his voice. “I have always been impressed with the abilities of your people. Still as great as your abilities are, waverunners don’t have the healing knowledge and entertainment value of elvenkin halflings. Those are a lot more versatile . . . I think I forgot something important”

  “It’s always the cute ones that forget things,” Myilia teases with mock surprise. She gives Nimby a quick pinch to the arm before turning toward the coast.

  Myilia pulls out her spyglass and looks ahead of the ship. Nimby wastes time by watching the trees start to thin along the shorelines. Meadows and clumps of forests run as far as the eye can see. Nimby can see the outline of great mountains to the north where he is sure the dwarf clans are busy mining and drinking. A curtain of birds erupts from the southern forests as the bellow of an ogre rips through the silence. The final sign of the ogre is a mighty tree falling over and crashing with a distant thud.

  “Wow. Simply beautiful,” Nimby whispers.

  “Thanks. It takes a while to make myself look this good,” Myilia responds without looking at the thief.

  Nimby blushes, as he sputters, “That wasn’t what I was talking about.”

  “Now, you’ve gone and hurt my feelings,” she says with a playful pout.

  “I’m sorry, but you’re very aggressive,” Nimby points out, nervously rubbing his arms. “A little too aggressive.”

  “You have to be aggressive when you’re the only woman on a sailing crew,” Myilia declares, giving Nimby a challenging stare. “I have to be twice as aggressive as the men to be
taken seriously. Life is too short to keep everything bottled up, so you might as well show some courage while you exist. That is the first rule of Myilia Sharpeye of the River Scout.”

  “Interesting philosophy,” Nimby admits, his cheeks turning red.

  “You would be surprised how little stress one has when they adopt that philosophy. Excuse me for a minute. Looks like the water is starting to get rowdy,” Myilia says as the boat begins to violently rock from side to side. She holds her hands out in front of her and whispers soothing praises to the water ahead of them. The rocking of the ship begins to decrease as sweat forms on her brow. It takes a full minute for her to calm the river to the point where the boat’s movements are barely felt.

  “Wow. That is amazing,” Nimby gasps.

  “I get that a lot. Sometimes about my control of the waters,” Myilia happily jokes.

  Nimby stares at her in confusion. “What else would it be about?”

  Myilia grinds her foot on the wooden planks under her feet. “Other things. Things that are rather unique for a female halfling.”

  “You mean your proportions? I thought there was something . . . different about you,” Nimby says, trying very hard to be polite.

  “I guess you can tell that I’m a little freakish even with the chest bindings,” Myilia mutters so only Nimby can hear her. “A four-foot, slender body and a chest that looks more like that of a human female. I mean, it occasionally happens with our kind, but it’s awkward. If you get to see me off duty then you’ll notice why the rest of the crew refers to me as the cannonball carrier.”

  “That’s just mean,” Nimby grumbles.

  “It’s all in good fun. I find plenty of reasons to make fun of the guys, which keeps everything fair,” Myilia says with a mischievous grin. “Captain Higgs treats me with enough public respect to keep the comments to simple teasing. He makes it clear that I’m not to be truly insulted, but I let a lot slide. I’m too strong to get angry at everything. Sorry, Nimby. I guess I’m gushing on you since we never get any halflings on board. You probably have your journey to worry about.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Halflings have to stick together. I’m hungry. I should have an apple here somewhere,” Nimby says. He searches his pockets for an apple, but can’t find any. He does manage to find a spool of fishing line and a long dart. Myilia watches as he ties the end of the fishing line to the dart and carefully peers down at the deck. Once he sees his target, the cunning thief hurls the projectile and yanks it back as soon as it strikes. The dart soars back into Nimby’s hand with two apples attached to it. He removes the apples and pockets the dart before tossing one of the snacks to Myilia.

  “Thanks. I see you have a talent for stealing. Guild or independent?” she asks, shining the apple on her sleeve.

  “Hard to say nowadays,” he answers with a mouth full of apple. “I have joined a few guilds in my time. I left them soon after joining because of the rules. I guess for now I’m an independent thief,” He is about to take another bite when a streak of purple snatches it out of his hand and disappears through a porthole.

  “Why that little thief!” Nimby exclaims, his stomach rumbling. “I’m going to get you for that, Fizzle! It isn’t nice to steal a halfling’s apple when he’s hungry!”

  Myilia breaks out into squealing laughter and grips the railing. “I have to get back to work, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave the crow’s nest. Sleeping up here is one thing, but talking to me while I’m on duty is another story. Captain Higgs will be on deck soon and he gets angry if our passengers distract me. Maybe the two of us can go out for dinner during one of our stops. I think we can keep each other laughing for a full night.”

  “I swear on Neberith’s hands to make time for it,” Nimby promises.

  He is about to leave the crow’s nest when an outburst from the deck catches everyone’s attention. Both halflings look down to see Captain Higgs shouting toward the stern of the ship. The captain’s blue hair whips in the wind as he continues cursing in several languages. Nimby squints in the sunlight to see Fritz standing near the rudder. He is struggling to either attach or remove a long device to the ship. It is a strange machine with a metal box that emits steam. The box has a hollow tube that coils along a metal pole extended over the water. At the base of the pole are four blades that resemble a small windmill.

  “Don’t you dare put that monstrosity on my rudder!” the captain shouts. “Get back in your quarters and stay out of our way, gnome!”

  “It won’t cause any harm. This invention could help the ship move quickly through the river by using the water to power it,” Fritz swears, tottering on the railing with the ungainly device. “I will admit that my people have not mastered steam power, but it’s less explosive than our other power sources. Can you let me test this for a minute or two?”

  “No! Get off the railing!” the sea elf hollers.

  “Fine!” Fritz shouts. He climbs off the railing and tries to drag his invention back onto the ship. The machine suddenly starts up and he struggles to hold onto the engine while the bladed, metal pole waves around in the air. The blades eventually slice through one of the thick support ropes. One of the booms swings loose and breaks the long pole of the device.

  “Damn you, gnome! Be thankful that boom didn’t kill you! Somebody repair that damage and remove that idiot from the deck!” Captain Higgs screams while he looks around the deck. He looks up to see Nimby watching him. “You! Male halfling in the crow’s nest! Get your friend out of here before I throw him overboard!”

  “I’ll get him, sir,” Nimby promises with a small salute.

  “You guys are the strangest people I have ever met,” Myilia claims, grinning wide enough to show off her teeth.

  Nimby shrugs innocently. “We aren’t that strange.”

  “Of course, you are. There is a gnome with strange inventions and little concern for his own safety. Your caster hasn’t been seen since she came on board. That priest has set up these sunlight orbs in all the public rooms below deck. Then there is that forest tracker who vomited on the heiress. We hadn’t even left port and he got violently seasick. Yet, he keeps coming onto the deck to help out or practice. Every time he tries, he ends up slumped over the railing,” Myilia says without taking a breath.

  “Yeah. He hasn’t got his sea legs yet,” Nimby mentions, feeling pity for the forest tracker. “Good thing I . . . oops. I forgot to give him the ginger pills before I fell asleep. I have to go. Talk later.” He slides down the ladder and flips off near the bottom. Myilia watches as he grabs Fritz by the arm and drags the gnome below decks.

  “It’s always the cute ones,” Myilia chuckles.

  *****

  “Come in,” Kellia yawns in response to the soft knocking on her door. She is not surprised to see Luke sheepishly walk in. She can see his green eyes dart to her clothes that are hanging out of the porthole. Roses have been pinned to them in an attempt to give them a fresh scent once they are wearable again. Kellia beckons for Luke to sit down while she puts a blue robe over her silk nightgown.

  “I came to apologize about last night,” Luke says uncomfortably. “This is my first time on a ship, so my stomach got the best of me.”

  “That is an understatement,” Kellia claims, taking a seat on her bed. “We were on a moored ship for less than a minute. I accept your apology, but I will feel safer sitting on the other side of the room. No offense.”

  “None taken, but I should be fine now,” Luke assures her. He leans against the wall, but quickly leans away from it when he feels the ship move. “Nimby gave me these ginger pills that will help my stomach cope with the constant rocking. I’m just going to look a little pale for most of this trip. Nice nightgown.”

  “Behave yourself. Your woman might get angry,” Kellia teases. She throws a pillow at Luke who lets it bounce off his face.

  “She’d be fine,” Luke explains in a dull, listless voice. “Kira told me that her culture encourages people in a relationship
to see other people until they are married. She feels that going by this law will make our separation easier to deal with.”

  “Is she right?” Kellia inquires.

  “Can we talk about something else?” Luke begs, holding back a few tears.

  “No, I wanted to talk to you about this before we left Gaia, but you didn’t arrive at the dock on time,” Kellia says sternly. She shifts on the bed and pounds on the mattress to get comfortable. “I want to make sure that you’re with me on this journey, both mentally as well as physically. I cannot have you falter when I need you the most. Tell me if you’re mentally fit for this mission or not, Callindor. I can drop you off at Rodillen and be done with you if you can’t handle this.”

  “This being asked as an employer or a noble?” he asks suspiciously.

  “As a friend. I want what is best for both of us,” Kellia replies, her voice softening. She slips off the bed and straightens her nightgown. “I noticed that you had not confided in the usual suspects. Aedyn and Fritz could only tell me what they suspected was on your mind. Nimby went missing during the night, so I don’t know if you told him anything. Fizzle would only tell me that you and your mate are sad. So, I need the truth from you. Are you fit enough to do your job? Tell me right now or I will beat the truth out of you just like at the academy.”

  “Fine, I don’t think I have had a good night’s sleep since the night of graduation. The guys have told me that I toss and turn a lot, but I’m not waking up exhausted,” Luke reveals to her, casting his gaze to the ground. “As far as my ability to protect you, I will be able to do it. I promised that I would escort you safely to Gods’ Voice and I will keep that promise. I couldn’t face Kira or my family if I walked away from this.”

  Kellia walks over to Luke and puts her hand on his head. Luke timidly looks up at her in preparation for some kind of strike. Instead, she playfully musses his hair before giving him a hug.

  “That is for being honest. Try not to be so dramatic about this,” she whispers before letting go of him.