Red Magic h-3

by Jean Rabe

  Asp poked her head from the shadows to get a better look, and her eyes widened in response to the macabre scene. A sly grin played across her face as she slowly ran her thin tongue over her bottom lip. The animal twitched and shuddered erratically, then began a grotesque transformation.

  The hedgehog's sides heaved, billowing outward like a puffer fish as the creature doubled its size, then doubled again. Its spines fused into its rapidly stretching skin, which flowed over its enlarging form and transformed into a mud-brown, leathery hide. Its short legs, scrambling in a vain attempt to gain purchase on the ground, elongated and spread away from its torso. At the same time, a thin membrane of flesh formed, attaching itself to the legs on each side of the shrieking beast's body and becoming webbed wings that flapped uncontrollably against the earth. The bones in the creature's head cracked and popped as they lengthened; the jaw became birdlike and filled with twin rows of sharp, jagged teeth. At the opposite end, a prehensile barbed tail sprouted and quivered.

  No semblance of the hedgehog remained; there was only the darkenbeast, a sorcerous nightmare, a hideous cross between an eagle and a prehistoric lizard.

  Maligor intended to create several score of these creatures to add to his monstrous army. The darkenbeasts, which could be made from most animals, even those the size of field mice, were fearsome creatures that obeyed his telepathic commands. However, they were not indestructible; they reverted to their true forms in daylight-or upon their death.

  The darkenbeast wailed, and Maligor glanced at Asp. He whispered a dozen more arcane syllables, magically tugging the image of the missing gnoll from the woman's mind and transferring the picture to his transformed creature.

  "Kill the spy," the wizard whispered to the darkenbeast. "Then bring me his traitorous body."

  The malign beast cried out again, a horrible, mournful shriek that pierced the night sky. Then it spread its wings and gracefully lifted from the ground. The creature glided over the earth, gaining height as it distanced itself from the tower and Amruthar. Its wings beat faster and lifted it higher still.

  Maligor saw his creation head west before it melted into the black sky. As the Red Wizard turned to enter his tower, he paused, gazing through the shadows at Asp. His expression softened.

  "The evening has just begun," he said, deciding to postpone his schemes for a few hours.

  She nodded and quietly drew him into the darkness.

  The hawk scanned the ground, slowly circling a grove of tall trees west of the cliffs called the First Escarpment. The sheer, imposing cliffs marked Thay's main border and served as the edge of the plateau of the Priador, a large expanse of relatively flat land on which most of Thay rested.

  For the past several days, the hawk had been unsuccessfully searching this territory, south of the crystal waters of Lake Umber. It would spend one more day here before giving up and returning home.

  With the coming of evening the hawk selected a large oak tree, damaged by lightning, and glided toward a high, gnarled limb. The perch gave the hawk an excellent view of the waxing moon, which had just begun its journey across the surface of the pond below.

  The hawk was not native to the lands around Thay. Its back was blue-gray, its belly ivory streaked with dark gray, black, and pale orange, and it had a long, square-tipped tail that was characteristic of a species normally found in Amn. Just below its throat was an unusual marking, a patch of glistening, silvery feathers in the shape of a crescent moon.

  The moon had worked its way to the middle of the pond before the hawk noticed an erratic rustling in the brush. The source of the noise clumsily burst into the clearing, panting and furiously pulling burrs and leaves from its fur with big, pawlike hands. The creature was large, standing nearly eight feet tall on muscular legs and possessing a barrel chest and a form that seemed a cross between canine and man. Its dun-colored skin was covered with tufts of coarse, red-tinged gray hair. The muzzle of its hyena-shaped head was blanketed with a darker fur that matched the spine ruff that ran from the bridge of its nose, over the top of its head, and down the back of its bull-like neck.

  The creature was a gnoll, attired in crude leather armor studded with bits of metal. The leather, which was too large at the shoulders and too tight around the hips, would have made the ensemble seem comical were it not for the red flame on a purple field emblazoned on the front of the hardened breastplate. The gnoll carried a circular wooden shield bearing a similar symbol that had been defaced during battle. In his left hand, he toted a spear, which was festooned with a dirty red ribbon that fluttered in the breeze.

  The gnoll lumbered to the edge of the pond, where the mud oozed about his sandaled feet. He squinted with glossy black eyes to take in the surroundings and wrinkled the end of his snout, sniffing the air. Convinced he was alone, the gnoll awkwardly tossed his shield and spear to the ground and dropped to all fours to dip his muzzle for a drink. He made vulgar lapping sounds that continued for several minutes.

  His thirst sated at last, the gnoll stood, brushed the mud from his hairy knees, and retrieved his spear. He glanced around the clearing again and spotted the lightning-damaged tree. His shaggy brow furrowed and he delved into a pouch at his side. The gnoll withdrew a crude, curled map and held it so the moonlight illuminated the ink markings. The tree and the pond were indicated by rough, hurried sketches.

  "Right place," he stated, seeming to struggle with the human speech. He rolled the map, replaced it in the pouch, and stamped his foot impatiently. "Mudwort late, but Mudwort here." He waited a moment more, as if expecting an answer, then made a circuit of the clearing.

  "Harper!" the gnoll barked anxiously. "Harper show up. Harper, not much time I be here. Mudwort be long, Mudwort be missed, Mudwort be killed. Harper? Harper!"

  Unnoticed, the hawk gracefully spread its wings and glided from the branch behind the gnoll. Its form metamorphosized as it descended, its talons curling, then flexing, becoming longer and growing together to form human feet covered with soft leather boots. The beak receded, dissolving into a smooth, male face with striking features-high cheekbones, a strong chin, and an even, tanned complexion. The proud crest of blue-gray feathers lengthened, fluttered in the breeze, and transformed into long blond hair. The rest of the hawk's feathers recast themselves into clothes, the wings into a cloak that flapped gently in the slight wind.

  The man landed, and Mudwort whirled, finally catching the scent. The gnoll stared at the man and creased his shaggy brow, furious at himself for not noticing the human's approach.

  The man stood nearly six feet tall and was thin but muscular. He was dressed in greens of various shades-leggings, tunic, and a rich-looking, thigh-length cloak decorated at the edges with embroidered feathers. Even the man's eyes were green, the color of ferns after a soft, steady rain. His wheat-colored hair hung loose below his shoulders.

  Mudwort noted that the man was barely armed; he wore only a scimitar at his side and had no armor. The gnoll had heard little about Harpers, but based on his limited knowledge, he assumed they were impressive and battle-hardened. This human seemed to be neither, although he was obviously fit.

  "Harper?" the gnoll growled.

  "I am a Harper," the man replied. "The one you seek."

  "Harper alone?" the gnoll spat. "Harper have gold? Harper important? Harper have friends near?" He waved his spear for emphasis.

  "I'm alone, as agreed. I'm called Galvin. You don't need to know anything else about me."

  Galvin pulled the collar of his tunic down to let Mudwort see the silver neck chain from which dangled a miniature crescent moon affixed to a silver harp. The charm flashed in the moonlight and made the gnoll wonder how much it was worth.

  "Harper symbol," Mudwort verified.

  Galvin covered the neck chain and tossed the gnoll a black velvet bag. Mudwort's thick, hairy fingers grabbed for it but missed, and it dropped to the ground with a soft thud. Mudwort fell to examine the contents like a wolf devouring a fresh kill. Running his fingers ov
er each gold coin he pulled from the bag, he attempted to count it. The gnoll enjoyed spying; he collected regular pay from Maligor and from other Red Wizards who paid for information about his master. This was the first time he had spied for someone other than a wizard-and had gone beyond Thay's boundaries to do so.

  Giving up on getting an exact tally of the coins, the gnoll scooped the gold back into the bag and cradled it in his hand, trying to weigh it to gauge its value. After a moment, Mudwort rose, brusquely wiped a long strand of saliva away from his jaws, and growled at the Harper.

  "Not enough. My talk costs more, Galvin!"

  "That's just to get your tongue moving," the Harper answered. "There'll be more if your 'talk' is useful." The gold belonged to the Aglarond council, which had asked Galvin to contact the spy. There were rumors of Thayvian forces growing, and the council wondered if Aglarond, Thay's neighbor to the west, could be a target. The council members needed to know if they should prepare for war.

  The Harper disliked wars. No matter who won, they caused a senseless loss of life. And the land, which would be soaked with blood by the end of the battle, was usually the greatest casualty.

  The gnoll interrupted the Harper's thoughts. "Mudwort knows valuable things. Mudwort knows that Red Wizard Maligor wants land. Maligor is greedy and thinks he needs more land than other wizards have."

  The gnoll pawed at a small cloud of gnats forming around his face. He glowered at Galvin and plopped down on a log, easing the burden from his callused feet. Balancing the spear across his lap for security, he pushed Galvin's money pouch into the dirty canvas sack that hung from his side.

  "More gold now," Mudwort demanded.

  "You'll have to do better than that," the Harper said evenly, planting himself in front of the gnoll and fixing his eyes on Mudwort's. "Who is Maligor?"

  "A Red Wizard. I told you."

  "Beyond that," the Harper persisted.

  "Important," Mudwort spat. "Powerful. Maligor rich, too."

  The druid sighed, quickly growing frustrated. "What does he look like?"

  "Like other wizards. Maligor bald. Maligor old, wrinkled. Maligor wear red."

  "Where is Maligor?" The druid moved closer.

  "In Thay."

  "I know that," Galvin spat. "Where in Thay?"

  "In Am-roo-thar," Mudwort replied. "Am-roo-thar is a city in Thay."

  Galvin began pacing in front of Mudwort, angry that the answers had to be pulled from the gnoll's feeble brain.

  "What land does Maligor want?"

  The gnoll pawed again at the growing cloud of gnats attracted by his saliva. "Don't know. Didn't ask."

  "How is he going to get the land?"

  Mudwort brightened and thumped his breast with his left fist. His smile revealed a row of yellowed, pointed teeth. "Gnolls get it for him," he answered proudly. "Maligor has many, many gnolls. Gnolls fierce warriors."

  The gnoll eyed the Harper, trying to gauge the wealth the human carried while waiting for the next question. But the Harper remained quiet, rubbing his hairless chin in thought. The silence bothered the gnoll.

  "Done now?" Mudwort's impatience surfaced. "Mudwort get more gold and Mudwort leave." The gnoll was worried; he had been away from Maligor's keep for several days and didn't want the wizard to discover him missing.

  "No, you're not done." Galvin had a considerable amount of patience, but Mudwort was wearing it thin. Something was indeed up in Thay, at least with a particular wizard, the Harper decided. Perhaps the Aglarond council had reason to worry. He hoped there was enough gold in his belt pouch to satisfy the gnoll spy. Drawing out a large handful of coins, the Harper held them just beyond Mudwort's reach.

  "Why does Maligor want more land?" The Harper's voice was even and commanding.

  "Not sure," Mudwort retorted, staring at the mound of coins. "Maybe wizard needs more land for the gnolls. Many, many gnolls work for wizard. Barracks crowded." The gnoll spoke slowly, pausing between his words, trying to decide what to do about the Harper. "Maybe Maligor wants this land," he added, "This good land. Mudwort could like staying here.

  "Maybe wizard Maligor need different land, tired of old land. Maybe he just wants to make Thay bigger." Mudwort growled for emphasis and swallowed a gob of spittle that had been trying to escape his mouth. "Give Mudwort more gold. Mudwort talk enough."

  Frowning, Galvin brought his face mere inches from the gnoll's, ignoring its rancid breath. The Harper believed he was close to gaining some vital information.

  "You want more gold?" the Harper began. "Then tell me where in Amruthar I can find Maligor."

  The gnoll snorted. The information he had been passing on to the Harper was common knowledge in Amruthar. Still, it was another matter to reveal the Red Wizard's present location to an outsider. Perhaps it was a test, Mudwort considered. Maybe the Harper was Maligor's puppet, and the Red Wizard was testing the gnoll's loyalty.

  "Mudwort done," the gnoll announced, deciding it was past time to return to the safety of his brother gnolls' company. "Mudwort leaving. Mudwort been gone too long anyway." He clumsily rose from the log, using the spear for support. Glancing toward the pond, he spotted his shield lying at its edge and started for it.

  "No!" Galvin bellowed, his patience unraveled. "We are not done. You have a lot more information floating around inside your flea-sized brain." The Harper's arm shot out to grab the gnoll by the shoulder. His intention was to spin Mudwort around, but the gnoll was too massive, and too late the Harper realized his abrupt action might be read as an attack.

  The gnoll furiously whirled, his left claw striking out at Galvin's stomach, ripping the olive-green tunic and knocking the human down. Mudwort quickly pressed his attack, making a short thrust at Galvin's chest with the spear.

  Cursing himself for being careless with the slow-witted, evil creature, the Harper rolled to the side, attempting to avoid the weapon, but the shaft sank deep into his left shoulder, pinning him to the damp ground. Blood spurted from the wound and onto the grass, making the gnoll's eyes widen in morbid anticipation. Mudwort forced his advantage, threatening with his sharp claws.

  Galvin cast his right arm across his chest and tried to pull the spear free, but the weapon held him painfully fast. He kicked at the gnoll to slow the creature's deadly advance, buying the Harper a few precious seconds.

  In that time, Galvin's eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and his smooth, exposed skin began to sprout thick, black fur. The hair quickly raced across his prone body to obscure his clothes, while at the same time, the Harper's form expanded, becoming wider, more muscular. The tanned skin on Galvin's face also covered itself with fur, and his mouth pushed upward into a muzzle more massive than the gnoll's and filled with larger, sharper, considerably whiter teeth.

  The Harper's transformation continued, his hands becoming wide, thick paws and his fingers long claws made for rending. Galvin's chest swelled as his ribs expanded outward, and his lungs voiced a deep, angry growl that reverberated throughout the clearing.

  Mudwort stood transfixed as a silvery white patch of hair in the shape of a crescent moon appeared on the cave bear's throat.

  "Red Wizard tricks!" the gnoll screamed as he backed away, uncertain of what to do. "Leave Mudwort be!"

  Galvin's new form was stronger, although blinded by pain. This time when his right paw moved to bat at the spear, the wood splintered easily, freeing him. Blood still poured from the wound, matting the black fur and making it glisten, but the bear disregarded the injury and the part of the spear that still remained in its shoulder. It focused on the gnoll, the source of its pain, and lumbered forward.

  Mudwort screamed again and ran blindly from the clearing. The gnoll's legs pounded over the earth frantically as he brushed past branches and leaped over rocks and logs in his terror-filled flight.

  The cave bear pursued, effortlessly catching up to its quarry, which stank strongly of fear. Rising on its great hind legs, the bear towered above the fleeing gnoll. Slashing with its cla
ws, it raked Mudwort's back, cutting through the leather armor and drawing blood. The gnoll shrieked in surprise and agony and swiveled to face his attacker, futilely throwing his shaggy arms across his face to fend off another blow. The bear struck again, this time shredding the front of the gnoll's uniform.

  Mudwort's cries were cut off in a gurgling spasm as a third swipe bludgeoned him to the ground. Blood oozed from the gnoll's gaping mouth. The bear nudged the dying body, sniffed it, then padded to the pond's edge and sat back on its haunches to lick its left shoulder. Gradually the bear's fur vanished, and Galvin, bathed in sweat and covered with both the gnoll's blood and his own, became human again.

  The Harper heard the gnoll gasp, and he rushed to the creature's side, unmindful of his own pain.

  "Harper wizard," the gnoll whispered as his eyes locked onto Galvin's. Mudwort shuddered once, then died.

  "I'm no wizard. I'm a druid. And I'm very sorry." Galvin stared at the dead gnoll for several long minutes. The creature's death could have been avoided, the Harper knew.

  He was disgusted with himself for losing control when he transformed into the cave bear. Although his druidic skills allowed him to take the shape of various creatures while retaining his human intelligence, the pain in his shoulder had made it too difficult for him to concentrate. Galvin's animal instincts had taken over. The druid gritted his teeth and pushed the broken spear shaft through his shoulder, forcing himself not to scream. Then he ripped the hem of his cloak to make a bandage for his shoulder. The wound demanded more attention, but he wanted to put some distance between himself and this area before he stopped to tend to it.

  The Harper worked hurriedly to bury Mudwort's body, spear, and shield. He didn't want to take any chances that the gnoll might be found and suspicions aroused. Galvin knew it was essential that the Red Wizards remain oblivious to a Harper presence so close to Thay.

  Finished with the grim task, Galvin turned west and sprinted from the clearing; he had someone else to meet before the night ended and before the pain in his shoulder overtook him. His hair streamed behind him as he passed through the brambles and vines. The Harper threw his head back to let the breeze wash over his face and cool him. Overhead, the sky was filled with a multitude of stars and one winged creature that looked gray in the light of the moon.