Legends of Windemere: 02 - Prodigy of Rainbow Tower

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “Nice plan, little brother, but how are you going to pull us up?” she asks, her voice full of contempt.

  “Do you honestly think I planned that far ahead?” Luke declares, catching his breath. “I took a nasty bump from the impact and my shoulder hurts. You aren’t injured or weak, so step on my head and climb up on your own.” He awkwardly swings back to the wall and secures his feet in a rugged niche. He nervously waits for Nyx to start climbing.

  “I can feel your arms buckling, idiot! If you’re barely able to hold onto the rope then you can’t handle me stepping on your head,” the caster argues, reaching out to hold the wall and ease the strain on Luke. “Fritz will be able to get us.”

  “Hey, guys! They won’t let me back up there!” Fritz shouts from the ground.

  Nyx sighs. “We’re doomed.”

  “If I can get enough momentum, I think I can swing us out of this hole,” Luke mentions, ignoring her pessimism.

  “I thought you had a bad shoulder,” Nyx says.

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. I can swing us over and out then let go, so we can take our chances with a river landing,” Luke admits with an innocent smile.

  “That’s at least a forty foot drop! It isn’t like we’ll be hitting the deepest part of the river either!” she screams in his ear. “I’m not letting you get me killed like that!”

  “Come on, Nyx. We won’t die from the fall,” Luke assures her. “We’ll just be very badly hurt if we land wrong. Trust me?”

  “Hold still. I’m stepping on your head,” Nyx growls. A small amount of struggling goes on between them until another quake sends them spinning through the air.

  “Now would be a good time for magic,” Luke claims.

  “I would if I could,” Nyx snaps, gently kneeing Luke in the thigh. “I’m still not able to do anything and it’s really pissing me off. Please stop constantly mentioning it because you aren’t helping.” Nyx concentrates and attempts a simple wind spell, which only causes them to slightly sway in the air.

  Luke grins as they stop rocking. “I have a plan.”

  “This is going to be worse than the first plan,” Nyx groans.

  “I’ll move us by running along the wall,” Luke explains with a confident grin. “If you can get that puff of wind to push us in the right direction at the right time, I can use that extra force to push us into a bigger arc. We can get more height with each swing until we get higher than the wall. Then, I can maneuver us, so that we land on top of the wall. We’ll land in a heap, but it will be a safe landing. The worst that happens is that the rope slips over the turret, which means I can try to walk us up the wall by using the rope.”

  “Beats taking a swim in the L’dandrin after a plummet where I have enough time to curse the day I met you,” she begrudgingly admits. “I think I’m starting to hate you again.”

  “It’ll pass. Let’s get ready to try this. One. Two. Thr-” Luke begins before the rope is abruptly pulled up and his head hits a chunk of wall. A continuous tug on the rope drags Luke and Nyx up the rough wall until they are lying safely at the top. Both of them look up to see Fritz and a handful of guards holding the rope.

  “I thought you couldn’t get back up here,” Luke says, rubbing his aching shoulder.

  “We were trying to ignore him until the fighting stopped,” an old man in armor apologetically admits. “When things calmed down we let him up and he showed us where you were. Sorry about not helping you sooner.”

  “The battle wasn’t even ten minutes,” Nyx mentions, getting to her feet and brushing the dirt off her clothes.

  The guards smile at her as the old man declares, “That’s a long time in battle, little lady. Still, the fight is over and we scared off those pirates again. They’ll be back in three weeks like clockwork.”

  “This happens every three weeks?” Fritz whispers after drinking from his favorite flask.

  “The pirate fleet of the Barcofian Sea love to try and get at Freedom. It helps them hone their skills if they survive and it keeps us in practice,” the old man explains with a hacking cough. “This time we beat them quicker than usual. Poor cutthroats might stay away for longer this time.”

  “What was so different about this fight?” Luke asks, getting to his feet.

  “Normally, we only have guards and mercenaries,” the old man answers, his eyes searching the wall. “This time we had a caster on our side. He summoned this big wave to wash the pirates back out to sea. Caster didn’t seem to put any effort into the casting either.” He pauses and points to a distant section of wall. “There he is over there.”

  Luke and Nyx look at where the man is pointing to see a large, stocky figure standing on the southern wall. A billowing robe of red covers the hulking frame with only his hands and face in clear view. These visible parts of his body are covered in black scales and his head is shaped like that of a short-snouted dragon. Four-inch talons glint in the sunlight as the figure turns to walk down a nearby stairwell. Luke is not surprised to see a thick lizard’s tail swinging a few inches off the ground behind him. A seven-foot staff of dark red wood with a green crystal orb on the top is tightly gripped in the dragonoid’s hand.

  Luke watches the large caster disappear into the celebrating crowd. “That’s a fireskin. I haven’t seen one of those since I was a child.”

  “Always an impressive sight,” the old man proudly declares. “They have the magic of dragons, the adaptability of man, and the physical prowess of a dwarf. It’s no surprise that they survived the Great Cataclysm.”

  “What do you think of him, Nyx?” Fritz asks.

  “I know him,” she mutters, leaning over the wall to continue watching the caster.

  “You what?” Fritz and Luke blandly intone.

  “That’s the caster in red who saved me when I was child,” Nyx says, rushing down the stairs and sprinting across the street after the fireskin.

  *****

  “That ruckus sounded like a good story. Too bad I missed it,” Nimby mutters while he sits on a crate of nails. The gates to the dockyard are locked in preparation for the attack and none of the guards are making any attempt to open them.

  “Are you the one who tried to sneak into the dock during the attack?” asks a man wearing sapphire armor.

  “Yes, sir,” Nimby mockingly salutes.

  The knight forces a smile at the halfling. “No need for that. We were just doing our job and making sure that the docks were secured during the pirate attack. My apologies for any inconvenience this has caused you. Although, I do wish you had found a better way to find out that they were off-limits.”

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” the halfling claims.

  “You knocked out two knights and an archer in order to sneak through the blockade. If we did not catch you then you could have been killed out there,” the knight states, running a hand through his brown hair in mild irritation. “Be off with you and stay out of trouble.”

  “Actually, can you tell me where the crew of the River Scout might be?” Nimby asks.

  “The crew of Captain Higgs?” the armored man responds, taking several seconds to think. “They usually stay on the other side of town where he has a house. I believe he came into port yesterday. If you’re looking for any of his men then they should still be around Freedom. Good luck, young halfling.”

  Nimby nods and leaves to wander his way across the city. People are beginning to come out of their homes and go about their day as if the attack never happened. Window shutters swing open as the halfling jogs toward one of the streets that go over the Scar. He is a block away from the river when a black cat scampers out in front of him. Nimby skids to a stop and looks curiously at the beast.

  “Nightshade?” Nimby asks. To his surprise, the cat leaps onto his shoulder and starts nuzzling his cheek.

  “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with Myilia,” Nimby curiously says. “Can you lead me to her? Following you would be much easier than wandering around the city and k
nocking on doors.”

  A few people look at him strangely while he talks to the cat. They stop paying attention once Nightshade leaps to the ground and saunters into a nearby alley. Nimby follows the cat as it slinks among a stack of empty boxes that block the back of the alley from view of the street. The thief immediately draws his shortsword as soon as he steps around the stack and comes face-to-face with the side of a four-story building. Nightshade leaps up to his shoulder again as he feels the walls for secret passages.

  “I don’t see anything here that would even remotely interest a cat. This is such an obvious trap,” Nimby whispers, his voice low and edge. “I’m disappointed in you, Trinity. You could have planted a dead rat or a bird here to make it somewhat believable.”

  “Keen mind you have there,” Nightshade responds, dropping to the ground. Her limbs and body grow until she looks like a stretched, emaciated panther. Her body begins to fill out and the three enhancer gems come into view. Fur falls away to reveal cobalt skin and dark leather armor.

  “I should have seen through your disguise in Rodillen,” Nimby says, his body tensed. “I forgot that the city exports all stray cats because they can set off the roof traps.”

  Trinity adjusts her top and flips her hair of her face. “It’s your own fault for ignoring your instincts.”

  “What did you do with Myilia?” the halfling asks.

  “Your girl is fine,” Trinity assures him. “I left her as soon as the ship docked. There has never been a reason for me to kill her. My job is one of reconnaissance and trap-setting. Now, the two of us have some things to discuss. Please put your sword away.”

  Nimby sheaths his blade, but refuses to remove his hand from the hilt. “I have nothing to discuss with you.”

  “Don’t be like that. We are at an important juncture in our little adventure. This is the last chance that my people will have to stop you and your friends from getting Kellia back to her father. Once in Gods’ Voice, she will be beyond our reach due to those horrible wards. So, this is where it will all end,” the chaos elf says, leaning against the stack of boxes and pulling a brush out of a belt pouch to fix her hair. “I do find it amusing that this game will end in a city called Freedom when an heiress’s body becomes a slave. It’s such a ridiculous name for a city that has never known the rotting touch of slavery. I bet that none of these people would last a week in the chains of my people. Well, I seem to be rambling and ignoring my guest. My apologies.”

  “The Lich already tried to kidnap me. It won’t work again,” Nimby declares, his eyes scanning the area for signs of an ambush.

  “It didn’t work the first time, halfling,” she says, gently patting the crate next to her. “Please, have a seat.”

  “I’ll stand since this won’t take long,” he contends, an edge to his voice. “You have nothing to say to me. I’m merely a thief that is along for the ride and the story. Play games with Luke, Nyx, or Aedyn if you have the courage to do so.”

  “Calm down, little halfling. This has nothing to do with them,” Trinity coos with a playful grin. “It’s all about you.”

  Nimby cautiously eyes the chaos elf. “Like you know anything about me.”

  Trinity winks at Nimby before singing, “I know your dirty, little secret.”

  “I have many secrets. The big ones can never be proven,” Nimby declares with a casual grin. “You couldn’t have found anything too incriminating.”

  “Awww. You doubt my ability to get what I want,” Trinity playfully whispers.

  “This conversation is over,” Nimby growls.

  He moves to go around the boxes, but Trinity blocks his path. She is about to say something until Nimby draws his sword and makes a quick slash at her face. It misses her as she leans back and fluidly kicks Nimby in the side. The hit knocks him off his feet and pushes the wind out of his lungs. Nimby rolls to his feet and fakes a stab to her knee followed by a real slash to her upper leg. The sword cuts through her skin, which forces Trinity to take a few steps back.

  “You little annoyance,” she hisses.

  “Never underestimate me,” Nimby warns her. He spins on his toes and tries to run toward the open street.

  “Foolish halfling,” Trinity whispers. Webs of purple energy spring from her enhancer gems and ensnare Nimby. A savage yank hurls the halfling over her head and into the far wall where the impact leaves a small dent.

  “Are you going to kill me now?” Nimby asks. He strains against the energy webs only to feel an electric pulse course through his body. His muscles continue to weaken until he is barely able to move his fingers.

  “I’m hurt that you would say such a thing,” Trinity playfully purrs. “If I wanted to kill you then I would have done so already, especially after the trouble you caused me in Rodillen.”

  “You’re not the type to be scared of a halfling,” Nimby groans.

  Trinity laughs before delicately explaining, “I was never scared, but I was intrigued after your performance in Rodillen. I felt that it would be beneficial to let my curiosity take over in regards to you. My traps were already prepared, so I took some time to look into your past. I already knew enough about the others, but you were a mystery. There are no records of you before the age of ten and your old orphanage doesn’t know where you came from. You simply appeared on the doorstep claiming that your parents were eaten by kobolds several miles away and that you escaped. Your voice has no discernible accent and you have no distinguishable markings. There is nothing unique about you that I could use to find out where you came from. Discovering your true origin was nearly impossible.”

  “What are you getting at?” Nimby asks, a knot growing in his stomach.

  “I was about to give up and simply kill you at the earliest opportunity,” Trinity admits, rummaging around in the magic pouches on her belt. “Due to my orders, I have to tell my employer when I place someone on my personal hit list. This is just in case he has a reason to stop me, which has never happened in all of the times that I have done his bidding. That is until I said that I was going to kill you.” She releases her magic webs and drops a package at Nimby’s feet.

  The halfling suspiciously pokes at the package with his toe. “I’m not going to open it until you tell me what it is.”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “From who?”

  “You already know who it’s from.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “There is no mutual contact that we share.”

  “Drop the act.”

  “Who is it from!” Nimby shouts, his patience broken.

  Trinity grins wider as she whispers, “Your daddy says hi.”

  Nimby’s throat goes dry. He gulps and sweats nervously as his eyes gaze at the package. His quaking hands reach down and caress the light bundle. A few deep breaths are needed for Nimby to steel his nerves. The sound of torn paper echoes louder than he expected, so he stops before finishing the task.

  “What do you know about my father?” Nimby cautiously asks.

  “I know he is a great thief and an exceptional tactician. The best that I have ever worked for,” Trinity answers, an ecstatic look on her face. “Now, open the package and read me that delicious letter. I want to hear you say it.”

  Nimby rips the package open and pulls out a small scroll. With a voice that is devoid of all emotion Nimby reads, “It’s time for you to do what you were trained for. Trinity has been briefed on your purpose and has supplied you with your weapon. This is a potent poison that is magical in nature and impossible to cure with basic healing magic. Death occurs a minute after it’s injected into the victim. Trinity will tell you when it’s time for you to begin this mission. You will strike when Luke Callindor least expects you. He’s your only target. Make your father proud.” He pulls out a vial of yellow, glowing liquid and pockets it without question.

  “All this time, you were one of us,” Trinity says, her voice filled with amusement. “That is why you resurrected t
he Lich and I bet that you are the mysterious source who sent me the River Scout’s route. You’re the double agent that I was told about. This is just precious. Luke’s best friend is the one that has been assigned to kill him. That is if you’re really his friend.”

  “Shut up,” the halfling snarls.

  “If you go soft on us then I will feed you to the master and he will take his time devouring every inch of your flesh and bone,” she promises. A dagger whizzes through the air and slams into the box behind her.

  “I know my job and I’m not going soft,” Nimby angrily declares, fixing Trinity with the cold stare of a highly trained assassin. “My job is to eliminate Luke after gaining his trust. I have his trust, but I have to strike while Aedyn is not around. A minute is more than enough time for him to neutralize the poison. The attack on Luke must be planned perfectly. Do not rush my actions.”

  His eyes narrow as he adds, “I will not harm the others. Fritz is not a threat to our master and Aedyn will only be an obstacle in killing Luke. Once Luke is dead, the priest and the gnome will no longer be an issue.”

  “I guess you’re the boss here,” the chaos elf says with a nonchalant shrug. “Just to give you a hand, I will have my special agent work toward getting Luke alone and distracted. I want Nyx there too. That girl and I have unfinished business.”

  “She won’t be a challenge to you,” Nimby states without hesitation. “Nyx is still suffering from the trauma of killing all of your goblins. Her magic is gone and she can’t figure out how to get it back. You could kill her without any effort.”

  Trinity grins wickedly and licks her lips. “That is good news, but I plan on making her suffer before I kill her. I owe her that much for what she has done to me. Now, what should we do to prepare?”

  “Have your agent get Luke and Nyx alone tomorrow night. I will be ready and waiting at a place of my choosing, which I will reveal to you in the morning,” Nimby says, moving to leave the alley. “You will leave me alone until tomorrow night.”