The Elfmaid's Curse (The Elfmaid Trilogy Book 1)

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The Elfmaid's Curse (The Elfmaid Trilogy Book 1) Page 27

by Warren Thomas


  The Goddess gave her a stern look. "We are not helping you. You have been chosen to serve Us."

  "Us?"

  Maag raised one eyebrow. She didn't have to speak. Danica knew who "Us" was. Their world's constantly feuding Gods. The Arisen. Saviors of the world. Banishers of the horrific Old Ones. What did they want from her? Did they care about her condition? Would they help her further? Did their plans include her getting back her body?

  "I...I'll do my best..." Danica said, wild-eyed.

  Maag nodded curtly and returned to her place standing over the High Altar. Cat scampered off the dais before her, casting frightened looks over her shoulder.

  Then as she settled back into position, Maag said, "Remember the Bloodmoon."

  In the dim light Maag's statue was again inanimate. She was back in the same pose as before, now minus the crystal talisman. Danica couldn't tell she had moved at all.

  "Let's get out of here," Cat whispered urgently as she came up.

  "What?" the sleeping Guard croaked. Danica and Cat jumped back and stared. The guard frowned at them. "Who are you?"

  Danica recovered first. She stepped forward and kicked him in the chin. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one to see them.

  "Intruders!" someone cried. "At the High Altar!"

  "We've been spotted!" Cat cried.

  They heard the shuffling, jingling sound of armored men running into position. And the rasp of swords being pulled from their sheaths. In seconds they found themselves surrounded.

  "We're surrounded!" Cat cried.

  The Guards crouched over, brandishing swords and battle-axes. Most looked to be rather out of shape, but well-armored. Their great helmets covered their faces, so Danica couldn't tell their emotional conditions.

  "Now what?" Cat asked.

  "We fight," Danica said levelly, glad for something mundane she could comprehend to do.

  "Five to one odds? Are you crazy?"

  "You want to surrender?"

  "Oh, God of Mercy, save me!" she cried.

  Danica was taken aback. She had thought Cat was stouter of spirit. Then when Cat pulled her sword and settled down into a crouch, she recalled several other warriors who acted similarly. And they were some of the bravest, no-holds-barred fighters she had ever had the privilege to fight beside.

  Pulling her near empty purse hastily, she started to put the talisman inside. The leather pouch was just large enough to hold it. Then an idea came to her.

  Holding the talisman out toward the incoming Guards, "Kill!"

  Nothing happened.

  "What are you doing?" Cat said, glancing back nervously.

  "I'm trying to use this bloody thing's magic," she said, frowning. Maybe she needed to be more specific? The thought occurred that it may require lengthy and complicated spells. But nothing lost in trying, "Lightning!"

  Ka-Boom!

  Blue eldritch lightning shot out from the crystal and cracked all through the temple. Two of the small altars were struck, sending shards of marble slicing through the temple. The guards all dropped to the floor, covering their heads instinctively.

  "Lightning!"

  Ka-Boom!

  Again the hot blue bolts twisted all about, striking the High Altar and several columns. And one struck the floor between Danica and Cat.

  "Gods, woman! Do you know what you're doing?"

  "No," she said, then grinned mischievously. "But it sure felt good." She glanced about at the guards scrambling away on hands and knees. "And effective."

  "Soon as they figure out you can't control that thing we're dead meat."

  "What an optimist," Danica said. "Follow me."

  The two women raced between the columns and headed for the tunnel back down to the Marganti Quarter and their waiting warhawks. To both their dismay, the guards followed, but kept a safe distance.

  Cowards, Danica thought scornfully.

  "They're following us," Cat said. Danica noted she did that often in tense situations. Very annoying. "What'll we do?"

  Dumb question.

  "Get to the birds and fly away," she said, picking up the pace.

  When they reached the tunnel entrance, Danica stopped. Lifting the talisman, she again called forth the lightning. Again it streaked all about, uncontrolled. Several structures were hit, loud explosions piercing the air and one guard was struck down, finally.

  Maybe that'll give them cause to pause.

  "Run!" Danica screamed, pushing Cat into the tunnel. "That will stop them long enough to make good our escape."

  After a few moments, when no sounds of pursuit could be heard, they began to feel more confident. Even Cat started to calm down. Then a flash of light cracked before them.

  Two men and a woman stood before them in the robes of Maag's priesthood. One and all, they were tall, lean, and haughty looking. They were obviously of the desert folk, with dark, hawklike features.

  "That belongs to us," the High Priestess said.

  "No," Danica smiled, holding it up. "The Goddess gave it to me Herself."

  "Liar!"

  The priestess's hand suddenly glowed brightly. Danica didn't need her special sight to know that powerful Magicks were building up. She and Cat threw themselves to the ground just before a searing blue bolt shot out. It cracked the air like lightning, deafening in that close space.

  Ka-Boom!

  Raising the crystal globe, "Lightning!"

  Again, jagged blue bolts ripped through the air. Ka-Boom! The corridor walls exploded in half a dozen places as the eldritch bolts tore into the rock. The priests all ducked behind cover.

  "Lightning!"

  Thunder again rolled through the corridor, striking their breastbones like hammer blows. Rock shards pelted everyone as explosion after explosion shattered the air and the walls.

  "Lightning!"

  Ka-Boom!

  As the called for lightning ripped through the air once more, Danica grabbed Cat's arm and half-pulled her up as she took off down the tunnel. The deafening thunder and explosions were driving the breath from their lungs, but they were driven on by a fear of capture and then torture. At the first sign of a priest's head peeking out from behind cover, she called on the lightning again.

  Ka-Boom!

  Ducking even lower, Cat wailed, but she kept running. Within minutes they burst from the tunnel into the cool night air of the Marganti Quarter. Cat led the way towards the waiting warhawks.

  Once safely back inside the warhawk aerie, Cat turned on Danica and pushed her roughly against the small storage shack.

  "Gods, woman!" she cried, eyes wild. "Don't you know some other way to use that godless thing?"

  "It worked."

  "It almost killed us!"

  "Calm down, Cat. We're safe. We escaped."

  "By the skin of our butts," she shot back angrily, hands balled up into fists and eyes wild with fear. Looking up into the heavens, "Father Sun, Mother Moon, save me from this crazy woman!"

  Angry shouts caught their attention.

  "They found us!"

  Danica shot her a sharp look, "To the birds."

  They charged through the aerie, startling the warhawks. The birds set up a horrendous uproar, flapping their wings and shrieking. Even their own mounts seemed agitated.

  Untying the restraints, they hurried up the ladders hanging down the birds' backs. As they settled into their saddles, Danica spotted guards and priests racing towards them, setting the warhawks off again. Even if she and Cat did escape now, the priests would surely pursue astride warhawks. They would be hard to evade in the open desert and skies.

  Danica lifted the talisman.

  "No!" Cat screamed. "It'll scare our birds!"

  Thinking fast, "Free the warhawks!"

  Nothing happened.

  Danica silently cursed the idiosyncrasies of magic in general, and the talisman in particular. She only knew one surefire command, and that was out of the question. The uncontrolled lightning would definitely terrify their birds, if no
t strike them down.

  Angry over her inability to figure out how to free the warhawks, and thus stop any pursuit, she decided to have it rain rocks and stone them, "Stone!"

  At first she thought nothing had happened. The guards and priests were still charging towards her, then she noticed the warhawks had all stopped flapping their wings and shrieking. The silence was deafening. Then what she had done became apparent to everyone.

  Danica had somehow turned most of the warhawks into stone. The horror of it took both her and Cat's breath away. Even their pursuers stopped to gawk.

  "You killed them," Cat all but whispered in her shock.

  "I didn't mean to," Danica almost whined.

  Then the stone warhawks began falling over. They were generally in awkward poses atop the roosts. Some still had their wings extended. So gravity took over.

  The birds shattered on impact with the cobbled ground, sending deadly missiles ricocheting about the aerie. Guard and priest alike were pummeled brutally, and occasionally crushed.

  Realizing both their birds had been spared, Danica cried, "Fly!"

  Cat followed, and soon they were streaking away in a thunder of snapping wings. Not even bothering to gain altitude, they flew straight out across the desert. South. Toward the Tyr Mountains. Toward Allaria.

  Chapter 19

  "There it is!" Danica called over to Cat, flying to her right and slightly lower.

  They were heading southwestwardly over the vast Jar Swamp. Thick cypress swamps stretched out as far as the eye could see in all directions. Only the silvery Jar and Red Rivers, and a few lakes, broke up the scene. The trees were thick enough that it looked as if they were flying over a regular forest, but if they looked straight down they could see light reflected off the murky waters.

  The Red River stretched out on the horizon to their right, flowing east to west, emptying into the wide Jar. The Red was the way back to Danica's home kingdom of Dakkor. Before them, majestic in its sheer size, was the Jar River. The mightiest river known. It stretched over fifteen hundred miles from its mouth to its source at Lake Brajar. If the Upper Jar was added, it came near to being three thousand miles long. The source of the Upper Jar was high in the Tyr Mountains, at Horsekill Lake and Cerre.

  Like a wart, Allaria lay clinging to its eastern bank. It was as filthy and decadent a city as could be found anywhere in the world. A safe haven for pirates and outlaws of all stripes, it was a clearing house for all their ill-gotten gains. Allaria was also a major center in the lucrative slave trade, with some of the richest Slave Houses in the Jarlands.

  It was a city that thrilled Danica like no other. Nowhere else did death and danger lurk in every shadow. Men and women, warriors and wizards, constantly plotted ways to gain power and wealth or exact bloody vengeance on each other. No one could truly be trusted.

  Danica found herself becoming more excited. It would be good to be in a city again. It had taken less than a week of hard flying to reach, but Danica hadn't really been inside a Jarland city in quite a while. Especially such a familiar and exciting Jarland city as Allaria.

  She could clearly see the tall whitewashed walls and towers of King's Isle jutting above the surrounding cypress forest. Within minutes she started making out the rest of the city. The familiar islands and buildings gave her a warm feeling. Multicolored sails dotted the harbor within its encircling walls. The docks were thick with moored ships. Most of the ships were the long, low war galleys. Mostly pirate ships.

  Indicating Cat should follow her, Danica began her descent. She took them down slowly. Allaria didn't have an air cavalry, so they wouldn't be challenged. Not that the Allarians challenged anyone entering their city. Pirates and slavers were its life blood. Too many questions, and that lot would move their business elsewhere.

  Instead of going straight to the warhawk aerie on the largest island, Danica flew across the city and then made a slow circle. She wanted Cat to get a good look at it, and she also enjoyed looking down on cities like that.

  A thick granite wall encircled Allaria. There were only two gates. The wide River Gate where all the ships entered and the Swamp Gate where the land traffic arrived via the Swamp Road. Inside were a handful of large islands and a number of smaller ones. Most of the smaller islands held only a single structure, usually a castle or other fortified building. Most were home to either slavers or mages.

  "The biggest island is Allaria, the old city," Danica shouted. "Mostly we call it the Big Isle."

  They flew over King's Isle, which was the only large island protected by its own walls. It was filled with small parks and ornate palaces. The city's ruling class lived there, protected from the cutthroats in the rest of their city.

  "We're going to land on Cypress!" she shouted, pointing at the easternmost island.

  Cypress Island was little more than a giant plaza with a few taverns, inns, and warehouses surrounding it along its shore. That was where most trading caravans entered and stopped, with the goods spreading out to the city from there.

  After two circles, they descended into Harald's Warhawk Aerie. The aerie had a landing roost in its center where they were expected to land, so she headed for it. Landing on one end, she waited as Cat landed her bird on the other end of the overlong roost. They watched as a couple of workers hurried over and secured the birds to the roost. Then they dropped their saddle ladders and climbed down.

  "Peace, Hawkers! Welcome to Allaria," an elderly man cried happily, limping up. "How long will you be roosting your birds?"

  Danica gave him a crooked smile. She knew old Harald. He had owned the warhawk aerie for years, inherited it from his father. He was as cheerful and honest a man as could be found in Allaria, which wasn't saying much. Though he did give an honest value for his services. He also bought and sold warhawks.

  "We'd rather sell them," she said. "We don't plan on leaving the city soon."

  At least not in this body, Danica thought.

  "Don't say," he said, getting a crafty look about him. Danica suppressed a smile. She already knew he was a lousy haggler, but thought of himself as quite the deal-maker. "Had them long?"

  He gave the worker beside Danica's warhawk a signal to unfasten its restraining strap.

  "Just for the trip down from Ismat al-Haratha."

  He grinned at her answer. "Don't blame you for that. Knocked months off the trip with birds."

  "Easily," she said. Looking back up at her great golden brown warhawk, "Saddle!"

  The warhawk hopped down off the roost and squatted. Harald stepped up close and started examining its beak, eyes, and feathers right off. Danica didn't know enough about warhawks to know exactly what he was looking for, but was already beginning to feel guilty over the hard use she and Cat put the beasts through. She hoped Harald wouldn't be able to tell. He spent a good ten minutes looking the bird over before starting again with Cat's bird.

  "They're a bit overused and underfed," he said, giving them a disapproving look. When both women winced guiltily, he said, "But I'll take them off your hands."

  Danica used all the feminine wiles she had mastered at the Golden Girl on poor old Harald. She got him flustered, and his marginal haggling abilities quickly went downhill afterwards. When she and Cat walked out of the warhawk aerie, they had more than they would've had to pay for the birds, if they had paid for them. Considerably more.

  "You sure you want to be a man again?" Cat said with a laugh. "I've seen some women who knew how to turn it on, but you put them all to shame."

  "I don't think I'd try that with someone I didn't know as well as Harald. I've been around long enough to know that there is always someone out there who is more than capable of calling your bluff," she said in good humor. "Do that to the wrong man in this city, and I'd likely not have any choice in the matter afterwards."

  Cat nodded agreement, then glanced around. "What now?"

  Indicating the Warhawk Tavern across the street, Danica suggested with a hopeful grin. "We could go in for an al
e and talk about it."

  "Can we get something to eat there?" Cat asked, eyeing the rundown structure doubtfully. "Should we rent a room there, too?"

  Danica frowned in thought a moment, "No. We should go over to Allaria Island. The West Wind Inn would be a better place. I'm not sure the Warhawk Tavern serves food, or even rents rooms. It's really more brothel than tavern."

  "Then the West Wind it is."

  Danica hesitated.

  "What's the matter? You don't want to go to the West Wind?"

  "It's not that," she said, glancing around to ensure they weren't being listened in on. "The Street of Witches isn't far from here. I was thinking of going over there first and looking for a friend of mine."

  "A witch?"

  "Yes, a Vikon," she said. "Elise is a warrior-witch here in Allaria. We've ridden together before. I can trust her, so I thought about engaging her to teach me to use the talisman."

  "Will a witch know how to use it? I hear that Witchcraft and Sorcery are completely different," Cat said.

  Danica shrugged. "Won't know unless we ask. Besides, the Vikon witch back in Elfhaven told me to find a Vikon to teach me how to use it. So they must know...

  something."

  Cat just snorted.

  They found a brightly painted skiff and paid the owner to take them over to Allaria Island. The water was filled with boats of all sizes ferrying people and goods between the islands. The trip to Allaria Island was short.

  Danica led the way toward the Street of Witches. As they walked in silence, she reveled in the familiar sights and sounds of the riverside city. After so long on the steppes and desert, the cypress and rotting wood smells of the swamps, mingled in with the city odors of cooking food and human waste, giving her a warm feeling of homecoming. She even found the humidity of the subtropical city a pleasant change.

  She noticed Cat looking around with interest.

  "Not exactly Tamera," Danica said.

  "Hardly. Tamera was one of the most beautiful cities I've ever seen," she said. "Allaria is the second ugliest city I've ever seen. Maybe that's why I like it so."

  "How's that?"

  Cat grinned sheepishly. "I was born in a city very similar to this one. It was the ugliest city I've ever seen." Glancing around wistfully, "This is as close to home as I'll ever get."

 

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