Eye of the Wizard: A Fantasy Adventure

by Daniel Arenson

  Scruff grunted. "Thanks to me? You're the one who got caught in your undies."

  "Actually, I was naked."

  "Oh, much better."

  She glared at him, eyes aflame. "Well, if you could swing a sword—"

  "If you were a boy—"

  Jamie punched his head, hard enough to make his ears ring and white light flash. Scruff grunted and hit her back, a blow to the shoulder that nearly knocked her over. She leaped at him, snarling, and soon the two were rolling around on the ground, hitting each other, raising dust. Scruff was thrice her size, but Jamie had thrice his speed; the two were evenly matched, beating each other black and blue.

  Somebody cleared her throat above them.

  Scruff and Jamie froze.

  The siblings raised their eyes, and their breath died. Jamie leaped to her feet, drawing her sword with a hiss. Scruff lifted his mace, tightening his hand around the grip, fear clutching him.

  A she-demon stood above.

  She wore nothing but tongues of flame that flowed across her red body. Her hair was made of fire, and her fangs and claws glinted. Her eyes glowed like lanterns, the irises rings of flame, and her tail flicked behind her. Scruff had never seen a creature more beautiful, a beauty of cruelty and sin.

  "Hellooo," the demon said and waved.

  Scruff raised his mace, preparing to strike. Beside him, Jamie raised her sword. They'd been exiled for only a few days, and already they faced a fight for their lives.

  Before the battle could commence, Neev emerged from behind a thorny bush, sighing. "Don't worry, she's with me."

  Neev! Scruff and Jamie gaped. Scruff's mouth felt so wide, he thought he could swallow the island. He hadn't seen Neev in five years, not since the boy had joined the Coven. The skinny child had become a young man. His face was stubbly now, and he was no longer skinny nor short, but it was Neev all right, with the same roll to his eyes and weary sigh.

  "Neev!" Scruff said, rubbing his eyes. "Baby brother! What are you doing here?"

  The young, thin warlock buttoned up his fly. "Well, I was going to the bathroom, until you so rudely interrupted. As for the rest, it's a long story. Come, dear siblings. I have embers burning atop the hill and some cooking fish. Let's sit, eat, and tell our stories."

  * * * * *

  An hour later, they were sitting around the fire, picking their teeth with fish bones, mulling one another's tales.

  "Well, if this isn't a pickle," Jamie said, leaning against a boulder, warming her bare feet by the fire. Her sheathed sword lay on her lap, and the sunset twinkled around her. "All three Thistle siblings—banished. We're all failures. And what's with those moldmen we saw?"

  At the thought of the creatures, Jamie shivered. She could still smell their stink. She had slain three in Teasle Forest, and Neev had killed one outside the Coven; it seemed moldmen were crawling all over these lands. Jamie patted Moonclaw's pommel. You will shed more blood yet, Moonclaw, she thought with another shiver.

  The demon Romy stared into the fire, eyes thoughtful, as if remembering her fiery home underground. "Moldmen are creatures of the underground, like us demons," she said, voice low. "Mostly they just sleep, but sometimes they wake up and go poking around underground, seeking worms, and they are nasty when they're awake. All they do is destroy, destroy, destroy. They live for chaos. But they're too stupid to leave the underground alone; a warlock brought them here."

  Slowly, they all turned to stare at Neev.

  The young warlock dropped the fish bone he was nibbling and raised an eyebrow. "Don't look at me," he said. The fire painted his face red. "I didn't summon those things."

  "You did summon Romy," Scruff said, patting his belly; he had eaten more than the others combined. "You could have summoned them too, by accident."

  Neev shook his head. "Impossible. You know how difficult it was to summon Romy? I spent two years preparing that spell. A powerful warlock worked hard to summon these moldmen. You can't just do something like this by accident, no more than you can accidently build a cathedral by kicking stones around."

  As if to prove the point, Jamie kicked a heavy stone down the hillside. "I've only known two warlocks to summon creatures of the underground. One is Neev, and he swears he didn't invoke these moldmen. The other is...."

  She let her voice die. She could see that her brothers were remembering, thinking the same thing. Goosebumps covering her, Jamie gripped her sword, wishing that warlock stood here today. Five years ago, when the cloaked warlock destroyed Burrfield, Jamie had been only ten. I was too small then to fight, but when I see him again, I'll kill him. Who was that warlock? How had he known Father? Was he back?

  She shook her head wildly, clearing her thoughts. "For now, forget moldmen. We have to worry about surviving on this island. What will we do?"

  Scruff opened his mouth and seemed about to speak. Before words could leave his throat, an arrow flew into their camp.

  Romy reached out and grabbed the arrow in her hand.

  At once, the companions scrambled to their feet and stared at the hilltop. The arrow had come from there. As they stood bewildered, a second arrow came whooshing down, and the companions leaped for cover. Jamie ducked behind a boulder, cursing. The arrow slammed into a tree beside her, burying itself in the trunk. Who's shooting at us?

  "Damn it!" Scruff said, crouching behind a fallen log. Jamie drew her sword, fear and adrenaline burning through her. Her blade gleamed in the sunset. Rage filled her, spinning her head. What kind of coward fights from afar, shooting arrows instead of rushing into battle? A third arrow flew, grazing her shoulder and tearing her jerkin, and hit the ground an inch from her foot. Jamie's heart froze.

  "Weave dis iswand, humans!" came a voice from above. "Weave or y-y-you'ww die!"

  Chapter Five

  Spiderling Stew

  Cobweb stood on the hilltop, an arrow drawn in her bow. Below, the humans and demon hid behind trees and boulders. If they emerge, I'll shoot them, Cobweb thought. They won't make it up the hill alive.

  The wind blew, streaming her hair, cold against her cheeks. She took deep breaths, struggling to calm her racing heart. She had never seen humans before, but her fellow spiderlings had told her many tales of them. She knew humans were evil, that they cut down forests, ate baby spiderlings for breakfast, and overall were a rotten bunch. But I have the higher ground and my arrows, and they can't hurt me. Her knees felt weak and her heart raced, and she struggled to keep her fingers steady, holding her bow ready to fire. The naked trees creaked around her in the wind.

  The burly, shaggy human peeked from behind a log (at least, Cobweb thought he was human; he was tall enough to be a small giant). Cobweb released her arrow, and it slammed into his shield, piercing a hole through it, nearly hitting his face. Breathing shakily, Cobweb smiled. Her bow was long and powerful, carved from the heart of a yew, its string woven of gossamer; its flint-tipped arrows could punch through armor. And if the humans did make it uphill alive, she had her stone dagger strapped to her thigh, its blade engraved with glowing spider runes. She pulled a new arrow from the ground—she kept them at her feet, feather fletchings sticking up for easy access—and nocked it.

  "Weave dis iswand!" she called down. She tried to make her high voice as deep and powerful as possible, though she suspected that she just sounded like a baby as usual. "A hundwed mowe a-awchews wait b-behind me. I wiww s-s-summon dem if you d-d-don't weave."

  That was a lie, of course. She had been on this island for a week now, and had not seen another soul. But these humans had just arrived and did not know that.

  Cobweb bit her lip. The past couple weeks had been difficult, the hardest in her life. Only two weeks ago, she had lived the good life, frolicking with her fellow spiderlings through the forest. And then her sixteenth birthday had arrived. Her Star Ceremony. Cobweb blinked away a tear, her stomach aching with the memory.

  Standing on the hilltop, her arrow drawn, Cobweb shoved that memory aside. She couldn't dwell on the pas
t now, not as humans lurked below, ready to eat her. Everybody knew that spiderlings were humans' favorite meal.

  "Hello up there!" came a voice from below. The girl with the short black hair, shield, and sword was yelling. Her name was Jamie, Cobweb remembered; she had heard it spoken as the humans sat around their campfire. "I don't want to hurt you," Jamie called, "but if you keep firing arrows, I'm going to cut off your head. Okay?"

  "This island belongs to all outcasts," added Scruff, the warrior who was either a gargantuan human or a compact giant. The arrow still stuck out of his shield. "That's what Hermit Island is for."

  Cobweb shivered; their voices sounded demonic to her, so rough compared to the silky voices of spiderlings. She could imagine them trussing her up, placing her into a pot with carrots and turnips, and cooking her into spiderling stew. She yelled down to them: "I-I-I won't wet you e-eat me!"

  "Eat you?" Scruff called back, peeking from behind the fallen log. "We don't want to eat you."

  "I might," the demon Romy said, peeking from behind a boulder, her eyes afire. "I am a bit peckish, now that you mention it."

  Cobweb's fingers trembled, and she worried she wouldn't be able to aim her arrow. "Humans eat spidewwings, d-d-don't dey?" she called down.

  Scruff sighed and peeked from behind his shield. "No. Don't worry, we're not planning on eating you."

  "Speak for yourself," Romy muttered, her hair of flame crackling. Scruff hushed her.

  "I... I just c-can't twust you," Cobweb said, heart racing and fingers trembling. "You stay b-bewow da hiwwside. You stay dewe, I'ww s-stay up hewe. If you c-come up da hiww, I'ww shoot you."

  Cobweb turned to leave, walking into the copse of trees that crowned the island, the only trees here with some leaves. From up here, she had a view of the entire island. Let the humans stay there below, she thought. The crest of the island was her territory, and she would defend it. She tried to push aside the thought that she had only seven arrows left. It would have to do. She wouldn't let those creatures eat her.

  It was getting dark, the sunset twinkling over the lake. Cobweb found a tall tree and climbed it, then concealed herself behind branches and leaves. Her dagger on her thigh, her bow slung over her shoulder, she drifted off to sleep.

  * * * * *

  The night was rough on Romy. No matter how she tossed and turned, some stone or root poked her back. She was used to sleeping in a big, fluffy bed surrounded by warm fires, miles underground. All this open air was not for her. She missed having stone surrounding her. She missed her teddy bear and her downy blanket. She had been on Earth for only a week or two, but every day seemed more tiring, every night more restless, and Hermit Island was the worst place she'd seen so far.

  Romy rolled over again, muttering. She reached under her back and pulled out a pebble, then tossed it aside with a curse. The humans slept around her, Scruff snoring like a drugged Slime Devil. How could they sleep on this rough, cold ground? Romy sighed, opened her eyes, and tried to count the stars, but soon gave up. There were too many. She missed seeing the stone ceilings of Hell, not this endless and distant sky that seemed to swallow her.

  Could Neev magically send her back to Hell? She could ask him, but truth be told... she didn't want to go home. Not after her feud with Issa. Hell had become such a bore. Every day, she had to torture more sinners. She had been doing it for almost two centuries, and it was boring by now, so boring. Every day, she used the same whips, hot irons, pitchforks... so repetitive. Earth was new. This was an adventure, she had to admit.

  Romy rolled over again and lay on her side, cheek against her hands. All she needed on Earth was some money to buy a house, a downy bed, maybe a servant or two, and she'd be set. And if she ever missed torturing anyone, she'd kick Neev around a bit and get it out of her system. Living on Hermit Island would not do. There was a whole world to explore here aboveground!

  Finally morning came, and Romy felt like she had barely slept.

  "I want off this island," she announced as the others stretched and yawned. "I want to go someplace with walls, a roof, a fireplace, a soft bed, a kitchen, and servants. I hate it here."

  Neev scratched his belly, yawning, his face stubbly. "We all do," he said through his yawn, "but we're outcasts now, Romy. I flunked out of the Coven, and Scruff and Jamie flunked out of knight school. We have no money, no titles, nothing."

  Romy blew out her breath in frustration. "Big deal. In the underground, when we want something, we take it."

  Neev tossed twigs onto their campfire, took a pan from his backpack, and began to fry sausages. "Are you suggesting we become thieves?" he said.

  Romy shrugged, the spicy scent of breakfast tickling her nostrils. "Why not?"

  Neev cracked a few eggs onto the pan; he and Romy had found them in a nest just off the island. "It's against our principles."

  Romy placed her fists on her hips. "Your principles are to live on an island as hermits?"

  Jamie marched up to her, eyes flashing, hair still mussed from sleep. Five feet tall on her tiptoes, maybe a hundred pounds in her armor, she thrust out her chin as if that could make her larger. "Who said you can join us here, anyway? Scruff, Neev, and I are siblings. Why do you tag along?"

  The girl with the boyish hair amused Romy. With her diminutive frame and fiery eyes, Jamie reminded Romy of a grombeetle, fuzzy pests who filled the underground, delighting demon children and annoying the adults.

  "I'm family too," Romy answered. "Neev summoned me, so he's my mommy."

  Flipping the eggs, Neev groaned. "Oh no, no more of that nonsense."

  Scruff grinned, pulling on his tunic and slinging his shield over his back. "Mommy Neev. I like it."

  Romy was about to reach for a sausage, not caring if they were still cold, when screams came from the hilltop.

  The companions froze, staring at one another for a moment, then began to race up the hilltop, breakfast forgotten. Pebbles chinked under Romy's feet as she ran. Her ears picked up grunting from above, and the stench of rot filled her nostrils. When she reached the hilltop, she saw a girl with pointy ears and lavender skin, crocuses strewn through her glowing white hair. A small spiderweb was tattooed onto her shoulder. A spiderling. Romy had heard of these purple woodland creatures, but never seen one. Seven moldmen surrounded the spiderling, mossy and pale, reaching their claws toward her.

  Three moldmen lay dead on the ground, pierced with arrows, their bloated tongues hanging from their maws. The spiderling's quiver was now empty, and she was wounded. Moldman claws had scratched her thigh, and blood seeped down her leg. Eyes wide and frightened, she clutched a stone dagger, its blade engraved with glowing runes.

  Scruff and Jamie, both screaming, leaped into battle. Scruff wielded Norman, his spiny mace. Jamie swung Moonclaw, her sword. Neev muttered a spell, then tossed black lightning onto the moldmen, burning them. Romy was scared, but if her companions were fighting, so would she. Heart racing, she flapped her wings and swooped onto a moldman, stabbing him with her pitchfork. Its blood splashed onto her hand, black and sticky. Eww.

  Within a moment, all the moldmen were dead.

  Romy stood panting and couldn't help but grin. She had killed a moldman, all by herself! She puffed out her chest and raised her chin with pride.

  "Did you see that, Mommy?" she said, preening.

  But Neev wasn't looking at her. He was staring toward the spiderling, and Romy followed his gaze, then gasped. The spiderling had grabbed one of her fired arrows, nocked it, and was pointing the weapon at them.

  "B-b-back off!" the spiderling said. "I didn't wet the m-mowdmen eat me, and I won't wet y-you."

  Jamie rolled her eyes. "Oh, give it a break!" she exclaimed, blowing out her breath in frustration. "Are all spiderlings so dense? We told you already, we don't eat spiderlings! I might stab you if you don't lower your arrow, but I certainly won't eat you."

  The spiderling stood panting, and Romy examined her curiously. She had never seen a spiderling before. She could see w
hy some might consider these forest spirits a delicacy. With her lavender skin, glowing hair, and sapphire eyes, the girl looked good enough to eat. She even wore a necklace of apple seeds, no doubt for flavoring. Romy's stomach grumbled.

  The spiderling stared at Jamie, fingers trembling. "B-but... my c-cwan t-towd me you do."

  Romy scrunched her lips. "You talk funny," she said to the spiderling.

  "A-and y-you wook funny," the spiderling replied.

  "Agreed!" Scruff said. He slung his mace over his back, wiped his hands on his pants, and pushed back strands of hair from his forehead. "Where is your clan now?" he asked the spiderling.

  "Well, dey...." The spiderling lowered her eyes. "Dey b-banished me b-because I c-can't tawk so good."

  "And those are the people you believe?" Scruff said. "Trust us, we're your friends. We won't eat you."

  Romy sighed. Ohh... but I wanted spiderling stew tonight. Life wasn't fair.

  Shakily, the spiderling lowered her bow, taking deep breaths. Jamie sheathed her sword, and with a few handshakes and introductions, all were friends.

  Romy watched them all, tapping her foot. "I finally got it," she said.

  "Got what?" Jamie demanded, all tiny and cranky like a grombeetle.

  Romy shook moldman blood off her hand. "You all think you're failures," she said, "miserable hermits who must live outcast from society. But don't you see? None of you are failures. Scruff, you're deadly with that mace. So what if Knight School can't recognize skill with a mace? Jamie, you're an expert at the sword. It's not your fault girls can't become knights. Neev, you were only outcast for growing rabbit ears. So what? You summoned me, so you must be a great warlock. And Cobweb, who cares if your tongue is twisted, so long as your arrows are straight? We're all deadly in our own way; we just proved that, killing these moldmen. I'm from the underground. I know moldmen. Trust me, killing ten is nothing to sneeze at. Together we're strong. So let's get off this island, then buy a house and big fluffy beds and servants. You don't want to steal money? Fine. We'll earn it. We have something to sell: our deadliness. We'll become bullies. Bullies for hire."