by Sam Ferguson
“No, you don’t. Look, you have the sword. You have everything you need. This is where the training wheels come off!”
Mulligan and Arethel glanced to each other and shrugged.
“Go and be an epic farm boy. You can do it! This is what we have trained for!”
“But, I haven’t been training!” Lucas said.
“Oh that’s riiiight!” Simplin said with an emphatic nod. “I remember, the notes had a part where you were supposed to do all those push-ups and pull-ups and stuff, while listening to some 80’s rock song about tigers, but then we skipped that.”
“What? I don’t recall anything about that!” Lucas said.
Simplin nodded. “It must have gotten cut for time, I know Jack had a pretty bad bathroom experience. Maybe it was supposed to happen around that time. Well, no worries. You have this well in hand!”
“You have to come too!” Lucas shouted.
Simplin shook his head resolutely. “You have to go on without me. I’m no use to you anyway. If I stay here, at least there is a chance I find another way in, but if I steal passage on the bridge, I’ll lose both of my hands, and my ability to cast spells will be very limited. I need my fingers to form and draw runes!”
“SIMPLIN!” Lucas cried with his arm outstretched as Mulligan began to pull him away.
Simplin held out his hand, wishing he could join them on the final leg of their journey, but there was nothing he could do.
*****
Lucas, Mulligan, and Arethel walked along the bridge for several minutes before they reached the half way mark, and that was when the trouble started.
A large, red hand grasped the side rail of the bridge and something hideous and enormous crawled over the side to stand in their way.
“I thought anything not on the bridge would be incinerated?” Arethel asked.
“I am the toll enforcer,” the creature said. “I am Trull the Troll, toll enforcer for he who must not be named. You did not pay the toll, so I am going to eat you.”
“Oh, well, um…” Lucas stammered.
“You want to eat us, then you’ll have to fight us!” Mulligan shouted. He pulled out his axe and charged the massive troll.
“Gladly,” Trull said. He lashed out with a blindingly fast sweep of his arm, catching Mulligan in the chest and knocking him back across the hard stone of the bridge.
Mulligan bounced his way to stop just at Lucas’ feet. “Do over?” he said breathlessly.
“I think I understand the real reason for your name,” Lucas said.
“I’ll get him,” Arethel said. She pulled her bow and aimed at the beast. She fired… and missed horribly. Trull began laughing.
“What’s wrong with you?” Lucas asked. “I thought elves were good with bows, you know like that one guy who kills baddies all the time without hardly breaking a sweat using his bow.”
“Eagle eye?” Mulligan asked.
“No, not the super hero guy, the elf guy,” Lucas said.
“Leg-less!” Mulligan shouted.
“Oh, never mind,” Lucas said as he turned to Arethel. “There’s only one arrow left. Can you make the shot or not?”
“I’m waiting,” Trull said with an impatient tap of his foot.
“I can do it; it’s just the heat, that’s all. I got this.” Arethel took the last arrow, aimed carefully, and fired. The shot went wide.
“NO!” Lucas exclaimed. “Come on! Liriel could have made that shot with her eyes closed! I mean, Trull is as big as a barn!”
“HEY!” Trull shouted. “I’ve been meaning to go on a diet, don’t be rude!”
“Oh, that’s not what I meant,” Lucas said.
“I’m only a HALF-elf, okay,” Arethel shouted. “I am not a full elf. I don’t have all the fun little elf attributes. I’m not overly wise, I’m not exceedingly cunning or even eloquent.”
“But, Liriel is half-elf too, and she was awesome with a bow,” Lucas said.
“She got the eyesight of an elf!” Arethel yelled. “Sure, I can see in the dark a bit, but only for a few feet. I’m not great with my eyes.”
“What?” Lucas asked. “Eyesight is like, the defining attribute of an elf, you know, aside from pointy ears and all.”
Arethel nodded and began to cry softly. “I’m near-sighted,” she said.
“Near-sighted? I thought you were joking when you said that back at the camp,” Lucas said.
Arethel shook her head. “Nope.”
“How bad is it?” Lucas asked.
“20/400,” Arethel replied. “I mean, I can see Trull, but his red skin blends in with all the reddish fire around us, the red rock of the bridge, and the mountains behind him. I thought I had him.”
“Dude, you’re like, entirely blind!” Lucas said. “How could you drive that carriage, and rescue us at all?”
“If you recall, she did wreck our carriage,” Mulligan pointed out.
“Hey, anyone can get a flat tire, okay! I may not have good eyes, but I have excellent hearing. I just click my tongue on the roof of my mouth and listen for the echo.”
“Echo-location, you mean like a bat?” Lucas asked.
“Okay, I’ve had enough waiting,” Trull said.
The troll moved in and grabbed Arethel around the waist with one hand. He wound up, and then spun around like an Olympic hammer thrower. When he let go, Arethel flew through the air to the south faster than anything Lucas had ever seen before.
“Well,” Mulligan said. “She’s dead.”
“And so are you!” Trull replied.
Mulligan rolled out of the way just as the troll stomped his massive foot down.
Lucas sprang into action, hacking and slicing at the troll’s legs, but to no avail. Each gash and slice would splatter blood onto the bridge only for a second or two before the muscle inside would stretch and grow back together. New skin would cover the freshly grown deeper tissues and Trull would laugh and laugh.
“Ha, that tickles!” Trull called out. “My turn!” A massive fist slammed into Mulligan and the dwarf went rolling back to the railing on the bridge, cracking through the stone wall and yelping as he hung on for dear life.
“Lucas! A little help here!”
“I’m busy!” Lucas shouted as Trull grabbed epic farm boy and lifted him up. “Why won’t you die?” Lucas grunted as Trull squeezed.
“Haven’t had human in a while,” the troll said. “Not too many of them dumb enough to come up here anymore. None but you that is.” Trull opened his massive mouth and razor sharp fangs dripped with saliva as he brought the squirming hero toward his gaping maw.
“Hold on Lucas! I’m coming!”
Lucas turned and was shocked to see Simplin, a bandage around where each hand used to be, running toward him at full speed. The wizard leapt into the air and chanted some words that Lucas didn’t understand, and then a small cloud formed beneath his feet and propelled him toward the fight.
“Put my farm boy down!” Simplin shouted.
Trull shook his head. “How did you get through, the author said you wouldn’t dare come through the turnstile,” Trull said.
“The author doesn’t know me as well as he thinks!” Simplin shouted. “But I know him!” Simplin zoomed in and slammed into Trull’s chest, knocking the troll off balance so that he dropped Lucas.
“No, this can’t be happening!” Trull shouted. “I am supposed to win this fight. You are all supposed to die here, now!”
“Oh yeah, well I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Simplin said.
Trull snarled and charged the wizard, pulling a spiked club from the back of his loincloth.
Simplin held out his stubby arms to either side and smiled. “You, shall not, win!” Simplin shouted as he conjured a massive bolt of lightning from the sky that zipped down and blasted the troll in the chest. The spell burned through the troll and out the other side. Trull looked down and put a hand into the gaping wound.
“How?” Trull asked.
Simplin smiled. “There was
no moral dilemma, it was a test of character,” he said as he stepped forward. “And by passing the test, I have grown into my full power.” Simplin waved his bloody stumps at the troll. “I don’t need my hands. The magic isn’t in the runes or even the words I say, it is in me!”
Trull sniggered, and then fell to the ground, dead.
Lucas jumped up and shouted for joy. “Yes! Simplin, that was amazing!”
Simplin nodded. “I know,” he said. “Now watch this.” Simplin stared at his stumps for a few seconds and then bones started to poke through the bandages. When his skeleton hands were ready, muscle and blood vessels formed next, and then finally he regrew his skin. “How cool was that!” Simplin said.
Lucas gulped. “Actually, that was pretty gross, you know, the whole exposed hand meat and blood thing. Ugh. Don’t do that again.”
“Guys, sorry to ruin your epic moment, but can I get a hand?” Mulligan called out.
“Sure thing,” Simplin said. “I have two more to give, haha!” The wizard ran over to the dwarf and pulled him up with hardly any effort at all. Then, they all ran across the bridge and up to the dark tower.
When they reached the walls in front of the dark tower, which was actually a tall tower of pristine, white stone that looked rather beautiful as it stretched up toward the clouds above, they saw a man standing in front of a closed portcullis. He wore red trousers, a black jerkin over a red shirt, and a long, silver cloak that blew in the wind as he walked toward them.
“Ah, Mulligan, so we meet again,” the man said as he stopped about ten feet away from the heroes.
“YOU!” Mulligan shouted. “I knew I would find you.”
“And here I am, although I must say, I am pleased that you didn’t copy my outfit this time.”
“Who would?” Lucas commented. “It looks terrible.”
“I am a connoisseur of fine clothing,” the man said. “You have to have a higher intelligence to appreciate the art that I put upon my body.”
“You know,” Simplin said. “I have heard of a certain emperor that you might get along with splendidly.”
Lucas smirked. “Classic,” he said.
“Enough, this is between me and him!” Mulligan snarled.
Simplin gestured with his hand. “The Ten-fingered man is all yours, Mulligan.”
“And then the potion will be all mine,” Lucas said. “Hold on, my true love, I will come for you,” he said as he pulled a locket out of his pocket and kissed it.
“Where’d you get that?” Simplin asked.
“I’ve always had it,” Lucas replied. “It’s where I keep the picture of Liriel, to keep her love with me, at all times.”
“No, I really don’t remember seeing you with that, at all, like, for the entire book.”
“EXCUUUUUSE ME!” Mulligan said. “Can I have my revenge scene now, please?”
“Oh, sorry,” Simplin said with a deferential bow of his head. Simplin and Lucas backed away to give Mulligan space.
“Hello,” the dwarf began. “My name is Mulligan Francis Mortimer the third, you insulted my honor, prepare to—”
Ka-BOOM!
Simplin blinked and put his hands up to his ears as his head rang with a piercing, painful tone.
“No, this isn’t how it’s supposed to end,” Mulligan said as he looked down at the blood spilling from his chest.
“A thing of beauty, isn’t it,” the Ten-fingered man said as he held up the same strange, metal contraption that one of the gnome guards had pulled on Lucas back before they were imprisoned. “It’s called a boom-stick, not sure why, since there isn’t much stick to it. But, there certainly is a great boom though, ha! I got it from a gnome who came up this way a short time ago. In fact, it was the gnomes who warned us you would be coming. We’re ready for you, you see, and you will not succeed.”
Mulligan fell to his knees. “But, I…I was supposed to win.”
Lucas rushed to the dwarf’s side. “Hang on, Mulligan, I’m here. Just, hold on a moment longer!”
“Lucas,” Mulligan said weakly. “I can’t see, it’s getting dark!” The dwarf seized Lucas’ collar and pulled the farm boy closer. “The potion, it’s in my satchel, hanging from my belt.”
“Wait, what!?” Lucas shouted. “You brought it with us? But, it could have broken on the trip, or the guards could have taken it back in Lickedintime, or a million other bad things could have happened.”
“Shhhh,” Mulligan said as he put a finger to Lucas’ lips. “Do me one last favor, grant my dying wish,” Mulligan pleaded.
“All right,” Lucas said. “Name it, and it’s done.”
“Put the potion to my mouth, and let me drink it. I need a do over, to fix this. I have to make it right. I need…a... do over.”
“But, you said you only had one, and I need it for Liriel,” Lucas said.
“It’s a trick,” Simplin shouted. “Jack’s just trying to create another moral dilemma. Just, give Mulligan the potion and he’ll create a new one for Liriel after we’re done, okay. Come on, hurry up.”
Mulligan shook his head. “No…potion comes from… phoenix flower…I used…last one…in world… no more portions left… please… help…” Mulligan’s voice lost its strength and the dwarf’s body went limp.
“I’m sorry, can I finish shooting all of you now?” the Ten-fingered man asked. “It was a touching moment and all, but—”
“Just a minute!” Lucas shouted as he rummaged through the dwarf’s satchel. “Stupid dwarf. He pulled the red potion out of the satchel and held it up to the light. “He had it the whole time, this WHOLE time! I could have brought Liriel back a long time ago, she would have helped us, you know. She’s good with a bow!”
“She was nearly a thousand years old,” Simplin put in. “She would have slowed us down. Just give the potion to the dwarf.”
“No!” Lucas shouted.
“Well, this just got interesting,” the Ten-fingered man said as he spun the revolver around on his index finger.
“He lied to me! I hate liars! And besides, Liriel might be old, but she wouldn’t have missed Trull, and you know it.”
Simplin shrugged. “Yeah, you got me there,” he said.
“Well, this has been fun, but I think it’s time we all parted ways,” the Ten-fingered man said.
“Oh wait, I have another secret I want to tell someone,” Simplin shouted.
The Ten-fingered man arched a brow and leveled his boomstick at Simplin. “No tricks, wizard,” he said.
“No, not at all, I just want to say that I hope you have a lot of fun working for Skidmark the Brown.”
All three of them ducked, but when nothing happened, they started chuckling, one by one.
“I guess that particular curse has been over-used,” the Ten-fingered man said. “Pity, it would have been fun to watch one of you die by saying the name out loud.” He aimed the revolver and pulled the trigger.
Click.
“What? They assured me that revolvers never malfunction,” the Ten-fingered man said. He then turned the weapon and looked down the barrel. “Now why in the blazes didn’t you—”
KABOOM!
“Oh, gosh,” Lucas said as he turned away.
“Now that, was good timing,” Simplin commented as he brushed his shoulders off.
“That was a bit much,” Lucas said as he blocked the image from sight with his left hand.
“Look who’s getting squeamish now,” Simplin said proudly. He held up his hands. “Along with my character growth moment, I also cured myself when I jumped the turnstile. Blood doesn’t bother me anymore.”
“Good for you, can we just go inside now?”
“Sure, just give Mulligan the potion first.”
“No, I’m really not doing that. Didn’t you hear him? This is the last resurrection potion in the world. He can’t make another. Besides, you already robbed him of his revenge, so let’s just go inside and stop the bad guy, okay?”
“I don’t think you are
making the right choice,” Simplin said. “The way a moral dilemma works is that you are supposed to work through the hard choice, and in so doing you will grow as a character.”
“Yeah, screw that. I’m keeping the potion, resurrecting Liriel, and getting married to my one true love. Let’s go.”
Simplin stood there for a moment as Lucas made his way to the portcullis.
“Simplin, lift it up,” Lucas ordered.
The wizard shrugged and pictured the portcullis rising. No sooner had he done so than the way was cleared and they entered the courtyard.
They stopped at the base of the tower and looked at the walls.
“Hey, I thought this place was supposed to be made with the blood of children for mortar,” Lucas said.
Simplin shrugged. “I guess it was just an urban legend. Oh well, still made for good campfire stories. Let’s go inside.”
Lucas ran up the flight of stairs to the entryway and kicked the double doors open. “Heeeeeere’s Lukey!”
“Ha, very clever,” a voice called from the center of a very large, open chamber.
Simplin glanced around and saw only a pedestal in the center of the large room, with a tall, slender man with dark hair, dressed entirely in black, standing behind it, smiling and gesturing for them to come in.
“This isn’t what I expected,” Lucas commented.
Simplin nodded. “Yeah, me either. I don’t even see any other rooms, or stairs. It just goes all the way up.”
“Oh, yeah, well, I don’t really have much need for things, you see,” the man in black said as he moved around the pedestal.
“Skidmark the Brown!” Simplin said as he jumped with his hands out.
“Yeah, the curse doesn’t work on me, idiot,” Skidmark said.
“Actually, I have a question I have been dying to ask,” Lucas said. “Why do they call you that?”
“It’s a long story, and frankly, one I don’t particularly care for.” Skidmark said.
“We are here to wipe you from the face of our world,” Simplin said as he gathered a bolt of lightning between his hands.
Lucas chuckled. “Great choice of words,” he said.
Simplin smirked. “Ha, I didn’t even mean to do that! It just sort of happened.”