The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  “What? Did ye think she’d really sit here and wait for death? More the fool ye art, then.”

  The girl blurred in front of Venitra. Her finger and body vanished. Something blue and indistinct hovered in front of Venitra’s face. She stared at it.

  And her master lost his temper.

  —-

  “Where is she? Find her!”

  Az’kerash’s voice was never raised. His wrath was cold and deliberate, never a product of emotion. That made this moment and his raised voice all the more terrible now. He paced back and forth in his castle, staring at the image of Celum as Venitra ran through it. His servants cowered. Ijvani, her skull fractured and her black metal bones torn and broken in many places, flinched as she bent over an orb.

  They were scrying for Ryoka Griffin. The spell that she had cast had been—altered—somehow. It pointed to the Winter Sprite. But Ryoka Griffin was elsewhere. They had to find her.

  “There.”

  It wasn’t Ijvani who spoke, but the other spellcaster among Az’kerash’s chosen. Bea. The rotting woman turned to their master, an image of Ryoka Griffin in her hands. She was running through the snow, the world racing around her.

  Az’kerash, the Necromancer, reacted at once. He closed his eyes and put one delicate finger to his brow. When he spoke, it was to Venitra, hundreds of miles away from their location.

  “Venitra, your quarry is southeast of Celum. She is heading towards…”

  He paused.

  “Towards the High Passes? No. That cannot be—catch her, Venitra! Use the [Haste] spell, now!”

  Ijvani did not hear the reply, but in the image of Venitra that was being projected to her in her orb, she saw Regrika Blackpaw suddenly blur and race out of the city. She closed the connection and flinched as her master turned towards her.

  “Master, I am sorry. I failed—”

  “You did little wrong, Ijvani. Against Zel Shivertail and a Lord of the Wall, I would not expect you to triumph. Let alone with the Small Queen interfering. Why did she help Shivertail? How would that serve the Antinium? Why is a Winter Sprite—”

  He broke off. Ijvani shrank, feeling her broken form leaking mana. Zel had cut through her ribs with his claws, and the Drake with the sword had cut off her leg! It didn’t hurt of course, but the loss of one of her limbs was painful in a mental way.

  Far worse was seeing her master distressed. Ijvani looked around the room. All of her master’s servants in the castle were here. Oom, dark, wearing a long trench coat and hat, face obscured. Bea, rotting, rotten. Lovely in her putrefaction. And Kerash. He was an undead Gnoll, a giant among his kind even in death. He was as tall as Venitra and proud. And dead.

  All of them bowed their heads as Az’kerash strode past him. His black eyes and white pupils were narrowed in his ire.

  “Shivertail. He may suspect. Ijvani, your illusion broke down twice during the battle for a few moments. Besides that—this is too good an opportunity to waste. He is a thorn. I will have him removed.”

  “Master? Do you wish me and Venitra to kill him?”

  Ijvani wasn’t sure she could be of much help. The [General] had survived some of her best spells! Venitra might be able to kill him, but alone…Az’kerash shook his head.

  “No. Venitra will catch Ryoka Griffin. I will not wait for her. I have used one of my scrolls of [Greater Teleportation]. I must spend more, it seems. Bea, Kerash, Oom. You three will accompany Ijvani. I will teleport you all—you will each carry a scroll of [Greater Teleportation] with you.”

  His servants held their breaths. Well, none of them needed to breathe, even Oom, so that was figurative. But they were all astonished. The scrolls of [Greater Teleportation] were limited. Even their master could not acquire more. And four, one for each of them? They stared at their master as Az’kerash spoke.

  “You will appear in Liscor and kill Shivertail and as many Antinium and Drakes as possible. Bea, I leave the slaughter of Antinium and lesser soldiers to you. Ijvani, you will support Kerash in disposing of the dangerous elements, such as the Gold-rank adventurers. Oom, you were created to deal with enemies like Zel Shivertail. Kill him without giving him any opportunity to run.”

  “Yes, master.”

  They bowed as one and lined up before their master. Az’kerash walked past them. Kerash, axe in hand. Bea, smiling. Oom, faceless. And Ijvani, wounded but eyes alight with power. He nodded and glanced back towards one of the images of Liscor. In it, shapes milled about, soldiers rushing towards the inn.

  “You will teleport in as a group. Try to catch Shivertail alone. He is surrounded by too many strong individuals for an open engagement. The long-distance teleportation spell will take thirty minutes to complete; possibly longer…I will not waste eight scrolls. As for the battle, if you believe yourself in danger, return here with the scroll rather than risk yourselves. I have need of you all. None of you are permitted to die.”

  They shivered in delight. They were needed. Their master needed them. He began to trace a complicated pattern on the floor, glowing lines spreading out as he pointed. Az’kerash began to calculate their destination, lips moving slowly. Because he was their master, he could speak and act while he cast the spell.

  “A last note. The innkeeper. I do not know where she will be when you appear. But if she becomes a casualty…I will understand. Zel Shivertail’s death matters above all. After he dies, you will regroup. The Slayer is there, as is the Small Queen. And one of the Antinium Queens. If I must reveal part of my forces in some form tonight, I will reap the rewards of it. However, I intend to keep my secret. Kill all witnesses. Is that clear?”

  “Yes master.”

  They spoke as one. And watched as the image of Ryoka Griffin fleeing grew closer to the image of Venitra. They were both running through the snow. And no one could catch either one.

  Time was running out for Ryoka. And for Zel Shivertail, and Liscor.

  —-

  Ryoka ran. The snow blurred around her. Her legs churned through the ice, biting into the packed snow. She was barefoot. Her feet bled as they landed on shards of ice. She wore no jacket, no long pants. She was in shorts and t-shirt.

  This was the fastest way she could move. Ryoka ran, and felt her legs and body freezing. She was bleeding, leaving a crimson trail in the snow.

  Time. She fumbled at her belt. She had left her belt pouches behind, abandoned her bag of holding. But she had taken something with her. Vials of liquid. She grabbed one with frozen fingertips and removed the cork. The liquid sloshed and some splashed out into the snow. Ryoka ignored it and lifted the sparkling violet liquid up in one shaking hand.

  She poured the potion into her mouth, choking as she tried to swallow and breathe at the same time. The liquid burned going down. And then the fire spread. Her frozen body began to warm. Ryoka felt her feet tingle and her toes began to feel once more. Her feet began to heal, the cuts closing.

  A second potion, as she tossed the empty healing vial away. This one was green and made energy rush through Ryoka’s frame. Her legs began to move quicker. The stamina potion reinvigorated her, healed the aching muscles, and gave her more energy to keep sprinting. Ryoka kept running, trying not to puke.

  These were the eighth and ninth potions she’d downed. The side effects of so many potions was making her sick. She had vomited while running. Twice.

  But she couldn’t stop. Ryoka knew she’d been running for hours. Hours. The instant after she’d written her goodbye letter, she’d gone through the door to Celum, leaving a disguised Ivolethe behind.

  Now the snow and dark night blew around her. It was dark. Ryoka couldn’t tell how long she’d been running; only that it was too long. She had to hurry up. She had to get to the High Passes in time.

  It took half a day of running to get there. Ryoka had to be there faster. She didn’t know how long Ivolethe’s disguise would last, or if she’d slip up when Venitra and Ijvani spoke to her. Would they know? And if they did, what would they do?

&nb
sp; No choice. It was that or let them kill her friends one by one. Ryoka pumped her arms and legs, willing them to run faster. The mountains, the impossibly high peaks loomed in the darkness ahead. So close and too far.

  Ryoka felt like she was running in slow motion. Slow! So slow! She’d seen Valceif run, seen Hawk run—even Relc was faster than she was! She had to go faster.

  Or her friends would die. Erin would die. Mrsha and Lyonette would die. She had to run.

  Something moved in the darkness. Ryoka flinched, expecting wolves, a traveler. But the glow was blue and familiar. She saw it streak ahead of her, and then saw Ivolethe’s tiny form, flying, glowing ahead of her. And just like that, Ryoka knew she’d ran out of time.

  “Ivolethe!”

  She screamed at the faerie, her breath snatched away by the breeze. The faerie looked back and Ryoka saw her flying ahead, flying through the wind. So quick, so effortless.

  She did not speak. Of course not. She’d told Ryoka she was bending all the rules to play a prank like this. That it was a prank was the only reason she could get away. She couldn’t help now.

  It was just Ryoka. So the girl ran as fast and as hard as she ever had. She tried. She really did. She tried to run like the wind. She tried to run with the wind. But it blew in her face.

  And the faerie flew on, looking back. Ryoka raced after her, trying. How did it go? Step as if you want to walk into the sky. That is how faeries fly.

  But she was no faerie. She was mortal, afraid, weak. Ryoka felt sick. She tried to feel the wind. It was no good. She was trying, trying so hard! Why couldn’t she do it? Why…why….?

  Why was life so unfair? She was trying. But the wind blew and the snow chilled her. And then Ryoka heard the voice from behind.

  “I am coming.”

  It was a sound no mortal throat could make. No lungs could contain enough air, no mortal throat could make that sound. It echoed for miles, thundering. Fear made Ryoka run faster. She was coming. She was here.

  Venitra.

  There was a shape blurring through the snow behind Ryoka, in the distance, but moving incredibly fast. Venitra ran, magic making her move at twice, three times her normal speed. Ryoka despaired when she saw that. It wasn’t fair! The bone woman ran towards her. Now her voice was louder.

  “You cannot escape me.”

  She had promised to kill Ryoka slowly. Kill her and everyone she loved. Ryoka felt her fingers breaking. She ran, pumping her legs. Too slow.

  Ivolethe flew ahead of her, looking back. Ryoka thought she saw other faeries flying in the snow now. Or was it her delusion? The wind blew into her face. She chased the blue glow. But it was always ahead of her. And the magic—where was the magic?

  It was never there when Ryoka needed it. She reached out, lungs burning, legs failing. Ivolethe was disappearing. But the faerie’s tiny head was looking back, urging Ryoka on. Telling her to follow. To run like the wind.

  But Ryoka couldn’t. Tears froze on her face. She ran and whispered a word.

  “Please.”

  Her lungs burned. The word disappeared. Ivolethe’s gaze was caught with hers. Too slow. Venitra appeared out of the blizzard and lunged.

  “I have you!”

  Her golden eyes burned. Ryoka swerved desperately, trying to avoid her. Venitra missed and Ryoka felt her powerful hands snap together where Ryoka’s neck would be. She ran, trying to lose the woman. But Venitra was too quick.

  “You cannot escape me!”

  Ryoka grabbed at her belt pouch and threw a bag. It turned into vines as thick as her legs, tangling around Venitra. The undead roared and tore the Tripvine bag away in moments. She caught up with Ryoka in another.

  “You cannot get away!”

  One step. Two. Ryoka ran and tried to run into the sky. She ran after that tantalizing glow, that bit of blue magic in the storm.

  She failed. Venitra seized hold of her. Her arms were tight on Ryoka’s neck.

  “Now who will save you? No one.”

  Her words ran together, almost too quick to follow, a product of the [Haste] spell. Ryoka closed her eyes. Waiting. Venitra dropped Ryoka and seized hold of her arm. Ryoka twisted, trying to run as one of her fingers was seized in an iron grip. She looked for Ivolethe. She’d always thought the faerie would protect her! But there was no Ivolethe. One of Ryoka’s fingers bent. It snapped.

  She screamed. The second was caught. Again. And then Ryoka did scream.

  “Ivolethe!”

  There was no flash of blue in the blizzard. No sign of her at all. She could not help. Venitra laughed. A third finger was gripped, and Ryoka stared around. But the faerie had not come for her. She and her sisters were gone. There was no blue.

  But there was green. A flash moved past Ryoka in the snow. She blinked and then she heard a voice.

  “[Relc Kick]!”

  A foot smashed into Venitra’s head. She blinked and let go of Ryoka. The girl dropped and Relc appeared. He stared at the Gnoll Named Adventurer and then at Ryoka.

  “Run, you idiot! I thought you were supposed to be fast!”

  Ryoka got to her feet. She ran. Relc faced Regrika Blackpaw as the Gnoll stared at him. She had her sword and shield. He had a wooden spear with a steel tip, solid, thick, and unenchanted. She struck at him. He leapt backwards.

  “Whoa! That’s a [Haste] spell! You cheating bastard!”

  The Human girl ran through the snow. The High Passes were ahead. Venitra, Regrika, hesitated. She turned. A spear tip caught her in the back of the head. Relc yelped.

  “What the hell? What’s your head made of? Rocks?”

  She turned and ran, blurring after Ryoka. Too fast for the Runner to evade or outrun. Regrika was nearly on top of Ryoka when she heard a shout.

  “[Lightning Sprint]! [Triple Thrust]!”

  A shape moved past her, fast, faster than she was. Three spears seemed to appear at once, striking Regrika in the face, side, and arm. She turned, swung her sword. Relc dodged back again, panting.

  “Okay, seriously. I’m retired, you know? And this is a lot faster than I’d like. Can’t you, I dunno, bleed?”

  She snarled at him. Relc snarled back. They fought in the snow. Regrika lunged at Relc, sword swinging. He dodged back, feinting, not willing to block her strikes. His spear shot out, was blocked by her armor, her shield. A thrust hit her in the face, glanced off.

  “This is why I wanted my enchanted spear! But noooo—”

  Relc yelped and zipped back a few steps as Regrika lunged again. He was panting hard now, his face greying with exhaustion. He held up a hand, chest heaving.

  “Okay, okay, I may be a bit out of shape. And my Skills don’t last forever. Why don’t you…is that [Haste] spell expired yet?”

  She charged at him. Relc struck her twice with his spear. She rammed forwards with her shield and he had to block. His spear splintered from the impact and he fell back. Relc stared at the bits of spears in his hand and then at Venitra. He curled a fist.

  “[Relc Punch]! Relc Punch! Damn it, I could really use an actual Skill like that!”

  He punched her twice as she swung at him. She caught his chest and laid it open with a strike. Relc cried out and ran, fumbling at his belt for a healing potion.

  “Too old for this! Good luck, Runner Girl!”

  Venitra let him go. She turned to the High Passes. In the distance, a girl was running through the snow. Goats were racing after her. Stone gargoyles stirred in their frozen nests. Venitra ran. She caught Ryoka five seconds later.

  —-

  This was how it ended. Ivolethe closed her eyes as Venitra swung Ryoka bodily into a rock face. The girl cried out. Venitra turned and beheaded one of the fearless goats that were trying to bite her leg.

  Her sisters floated in the air around Ivolethe. They chattered, some laughing, others mocking Ryoka. Some sympathized with the girl, other the undead bound by spells and loyalty to her master. Some cared. Others did not.

  But Ivolethe alone knew the scene below
mattered. She alone remembered Ryoka’s name. She alone called her friend.

  But she had done too much. Too much. The rules had been bent, and trespassed in places. Ivolethe had done all she could. And it was not enough.

  “Sister, sister. Do not interfere. Our King watches. He knows!”

  One of her sisters, young and impetuous, cautioned Ivolethe. Another, old as time, spoke.

  “It is not worth it. Not for her. Not for a mortal.”

  All agreed. The Frost Faerie floated in the air, their transient forms of ice turning slowly to water. Ivolethe looked at them. Slowly, she nodded.

  “You are right, sisters. She is not. A mortal is not, for all her passion. For all her wonder. She is not worth interfering with, not worth breaking the rules. Not as she is.”

  They agreed. Some laughed. Others wept. They were more than creatures of snow and ice. Their natures were changing. They were changing. Ivolethe looked down at the ground. To break the rules was to be punished. That was how rules worked. But they were rules for a reason.

  They could be broken, if you were willing to pay the price. She swept downwards. Hands grabbed at her.

  “Sister, no! Did you not say?”

  “It is not worth the cost! Not for a mortal! You said, you said!”

  “Yes.”

  Ivolethe’s voice was distant. She flew, ignoring the cries of her sisters, summoning the last of her strength. Her body froze, colder than winter. Her voice echoed.

  “It is not worth it. Not for what she is. But perhaps. For what she might become. And for one reason more. Because she is my friend.”

  She dove and the world froze around her. Venitra, laughing, froze with Ryoka in her arms. Her hands froze and Ryoka fell. The girl stared. The High Passes, cold and snowing, froze. Ice, such as had never been seen before or since on this world covered the sky, the earth, and the undead woman.

  Ice. The frost of the beginning and end chilled the earth for a moment and froze the air itself. Venitra stood, astonished, frozen, and her master stopped, his eyes wide. Ryoka stared up at Ivolethe as the faerie smiled down at her.