Spies Among Us

by L. L. Bower

  I let my gaze linger on each individual, and I look deep into their eyes. “She’s sorry to ask this of you after you’ve tasted freedom. But Galdo took her spell books. I saw empty shelf after shelf in her basement lab after the dark ones violated her cottage. We’re talking dozens of spell books here. I know the last thing you want is for Galdo to continue to use those books for his evil purposes. We have to go back and retrieve them.”

  The oreads, Caroom and Lawra, and the mermen, Baru and Claymont, all shake their heads no.

  “If any of you don’t want to help Crisa,” I add, “we’ll understand.” A monarch butterfly flits from blossom to blossom, a stark contrast to the emotional struggle my friends are experiencing beneath these trees.

  The tomtes, Mordea, Tumea and Olea, do not reject the idea of going back to the prison, but cautious Olea rubs his head. He asks, “Do you have a plan? I don’t think we can succeed without extra help of some kind. I know of your power, Your Highness, but Galdo and his henchmen are ruthless.”

  I nod and say, “Knowing Crisa, she has a plan, and, with her help, we will break in. I’m guessing those books are in Galdo’s lab, one of the few places we didn’t explore. He’d want to keep a close eye on them.”

  Out loud to Crisa, so everyone can hear, I say, “We believe the prison cells and the lab are covered by a magic-dampening spell. That’s how Galdo can experiment on numinals without being affected by their powers.”

  Crisa cocks a pointed ear. “Not to worry. I know an incantation that removes another sorcerer’s spell, one I can remember without my books. It will enable us to use magic against Galdo in his lab. If I had my books, I could recite the spell I used on his father, which neutralized all his magic abilities, so Simean could kill him. And we do have powerful help. Jade has the promise of assistance from many of the dragons.”

  “Is that right? The dragons will help us?” I look at Jade in amazement.

  “Yes, Father, I’ve spent your weeks in prison getting to know the weyr. I’ve reconnected with my mother and brother and convinced most of the other female dragons of your righteous cause. It didn’t take much convincing. They were already tired of Galdo’s oppressive and cruel ways. They’ll join us as we break back into that torturous place because they want us to free their offspring imprisoned there.”

  I relay a condensed version of the conversation to the group. “Crisa has a spell to remove Galdo’s magic over the lab, and Jade has recruited many of the dragon guards.”

  Mordea’s eye grows big. “I thought they were loners. Why would they help us?”

  I scowl. “Galdo has captured their babies and is holding them hostage.”

  Tumea sighs and shakes his white head. “Does Galdo’s oppression have no bounds?”

  “With dragons on our side ...” Mordea lifts his hairy white chin. “We have a chance of success.”

  Olea’s brow furrows above his single eye, and he rubs his forehead as he gazes at the she-wolf. “Can she really remove Galdo’s magic with a spell? He’s so powerful.”

  “Don’t forget.” I raise a finger. “Crisa has the power of the Creator on her side.”

  I notice a crescent moon on Olea’s raised forearm and point to it. “What’s that on your arm?”

  “That’s how I got my name. When my parents saw this mark at my birth, under a full moon, they named me Olea, which means ‘moon.’ In tomte culture, birthmarks are signs of the Creator’s favor.”

  “Neat.”

  “Everyone looks exhausted,” Crisa says, “and my new compound, with all the comforts of home, is not far from here. It’s an uphill climb, but they can rest once we make it to the top.”

  From overhead, Jade tells me, “The land looks clear for miles. So I’ll meet you at Crisa’s compound.” She swoops away.

  I turn to the group, “Crisa says her compound is not far from here, and she’s offering you rest, good food, a soft bed and warm surroundings. Then those who wish to can travel back to the prison with us.”

  Relief brightens their weary and drawn faces. Baru sighs.

  I smile at my companions. “I know from experience what a good cook Crisa is. You’re in for a treat.”

  “A sorceress who cooks.” Mordea scratches his head. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

  We walk out from beneath the trees, and Crisa, still in wolf form, leads the way to her home.

  Caroom asks Geryen, “Do you need a break from carrying Simean? I’d be glad to take him for a while.”

  “No, but thank you. He’s lighter than the firewood I haul across the mountain every morning.” The giant gives a toothy grin.

  We’ve walked several miles when Brutus snarls and Noblesse vibrates in my belt vigorously.

  “Oh, brother,” I say, as I draw Noblesse, “something dark is coming.”

  Chapter 6 – A New Threat

  The ground beneath us shakes, like we’re having a mild earthquake. The birds cease twittering above us, and the wind stops, like the whole forest is stunned. We scurry into the trees and duck behind dense undergrowth. I’m relieved when Geryen finds a stand of trees wide enough to hide behind.

  On the backs of huge beasts I’ve never seen before, two ogres ride up the trail from where we came. These beasts are too wide for the trail, so they trample forest flora with each step, accompanied by ground-shuddering footfalls. The hair on my arms stands up.

  Those around me inhale sharply. Nobody else has seen beasts like these either.

  The creature on the left looks familiar. It resembles a thirty-foot-tall, trunk-less elephant with long ears, a leathery-looking snout, and sinewy legs like marble columns. Its boulder-sized feet could crush a man, and its twisting tail is the width of an ancient tree trunk. The enormous ogre rider, who bobbles on its back like a dash ornament, is dwarfed by comparison.

  The creature on the right, also harnessed by an ogre, moves fluidly and snakelike. It flicks its tongue in and out, while red-rimmed eyes scan the forest. With its pea-green, scaly back and Komodo-like stubby legs that paddle sideways, this beast reminds me of a fifty-foot croc. It doesn’t flinch when its shoulder uproots a tree, sending it crashing to the forest floor. It raises its nose, sniffs and then growls, releasing a plume of smoke from its mouth.

  My heart pounds. Earlier, before I was trained in my weather powers, intense emotion, like I’m feeling now, would’ve started a storm. Since then, I’ve learned to manage my powers so that they’re no longer triggered by emotion. Still, it’d be gratifying to pummel these monstrosities with wind and hail. That might give away my presence though and put my colleagues in danger. I’m also not sure how powerful these creatures are or how effective a storm would be against them anyway.

  Crisa says, “That’s a behemoth on the left and a leviathan on the right, pre-historic abominations.”

  I realize now why the behemoth looks familiar. I saw one when the Creator showed me history’s parallel timeline between Fairyland’s happenings and human events, which convinced me to join the battle.

  I look at Crisa. “I’ve read Biblical descriptions of these creatures, but I thought they were extinct.”

  “In your world, perhaps, but in Fairyland, they still exist, with the help of magic.”

  “Oh, no,” whispers Baru, the merman, “that one’s looking for me.” He points to the leviathan.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  Baru breathes hard and then points. “See the end of that rope?” He huffs. “That’s my necklace. I must have dropped it when we escaped.”

  The ogre holds a rod over the leviathan’s nose from which hangs a carved wooden fish on a small braided rope. That’s why the creature raises its head and samples the air every so often. It’s tracking Baru’s scent.

  Baru runs his fingers through his blue hair. “Okay, I’ve got to find the nearest body of water. They can’t track me in the water, and that’ll keep all of you safe.”

  I grab his arm to urge him to stay. “We can fight these creatures.” Baru shakes h
is head and whispers, “No, you’ve all been through too much already.” He takes off running, zig-zagging through the woods at top speed.

  The behemoth’s head turns toward the noise Baru makes as he crashes through the underbrush. It lumbers off, and the leviathan follows. Once again, the ground rumbles. The bulk and size of these creatures inhibit their agility, so, even though their strides are long, their speed is slow. I hope Baru can outpace them.

  “What were those creatures?” Mordea whispers.

  “A behemoth and a leviathan,” I answer.

  When the creatures are out of sight, I tell everyone, “I’m relieved we didn’t have to fight those monsters. Even if I’d rained down huge hail and struck them with gale-force winds, it could have ended badly for us.”

  Crisa’s tail twitches back and forth. “I could have cast a spell that would have slowed them down.” I’m fairly sure she likes taking on dark creatures.

  Mordea says, “If we tomtes had shapeshifted into a couple of behemoths and a leviathan, we could have fought them on equal ground.”

  Geryen grunts, “I could have frozen them in blocks of ice, while we made our escape.”

  I’m ashamed of my enormous ego. I’m not the only one with amazing powers. “I’m sorry.” I hang my head. “You could all have defeated them easier than I.”

  “I wish we had fought them,” Claymont, his fellow merman, states. “Baru would still be with us.”

  “What about Baru?” I ask Claymont. “How will he find us?”

  “Crisa, can you send a message through Hummingbird Central, once we reach our destination?” he asks. She nods.

  “We can’t do anything to help Baru now.” Mordea shuffles his feet. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m too tired to stand here talking. Let’s get moving.”

  Crisa takes off and weaves her way through the bushes. The rest of us follow, while Brutus brings up the rear guard. We taller creatures are slowed by tree branches or fallen logs that the wolves can leap over with ease. The snaps of large branches being broken overhead by Geryen remind me how his great height creates endless challenges for him when he hikes through a dense forest.

  The trek becomes uphill and, when the trees thin out, rocky. Within a few minutes, I’m huffing from exertion. My calf muscles cramp, and sweat trickles down the side of my face. I remember when I could run ten miles without breaking a sweat, but my weeks of incarceration and malnutrition have left me weak. We’re all tired and drained and ask Crisa for numerous breaks. Even Geryen’s head droops.

  The forest disappears, and I feel more exposed on this open but ascending plateau. Brutus, my faithful watchdog, trots up beside me and heels.

  After about an hour of uphill hiking, we reach a sheer rock cliff that shoots straight up like an arrow. We don’t have ropes, and I wonder how we’ll scale the craggy wall before us.

  Then Crisa lifts a paw, and, to our surprise, a door appears in the jagged stone. It’s large enough for even Geryen to pass through without having to duck.

  Crisa closes her eyes. When she opens them, I learn she’s contacted hummingbird headquarters to let Baru know where we are. From experience, I know the birds will search incessantly for Baru until they find him. I relay this information on to Claymont.

  “Thank you.” Claymont bows to her.

  Crisa gestures toward the door. “Welcome to my home.” I pass along her message.

  As I step through the hole in the rock and Crisa closes it behind us, I expect the mountain’s interior to be dark. To my surprise, torches, placed all around the vaulted cave, illuminate it as brightly as a sunny day. A plush red strip of carpet trails along the ground through the center.

  Crisa snags her wand from a stone ledge with her teeth and flourishes it by shaking her head. She rapid-fires magic words that I hear in my head and then become her normal, human-looking self again. She’s wearing dark blue pants and an ivory-colored sweater, and her golden blonde hair, which shimmers in the torchlight, is pulled back. Her halo of ivory light that only I can see surrounds her human form again.

  My companions stare at her in amazement.

  She removes the wand from her teeth with a now-dainty hand, which was a fur-covered paw a minute ago.

  “Ah, much better,” she sighs. “Nice to have hands again and the ability to speak English aloud.”

  She smiles my way. “This place isn’t as sophisticated as my cottage, but you’ll be safe here. Not even Galdo can drill through solid rock. But, for our protection, magic booby-traps surround this place that activate once I close that door. That rock opening is our primary way in or out, and no one else’s magic can open it. Only an act of the Creator could penetrate Mount Morphus. I refuse to let Galdo invade my privacy again.”

  “Mount Morphus?” I ask, “Isn’t that where ...?”

  She interrupts with, “Yes, Calen, one of your favorite campgrounds is on the other side of this mountain. We’re on the backside, the side less traveled. For humans to get here, they’d have to scale the mountain or spend days going around it.”

  I sense movement and turn to see my bugbear bodyguard, Grog, exiting a rocky corridor. A black cat with emerald green eyes, who I recognize as Crisa’s cat Esmeralda, follows Grog into the room. She saunters toward us like she owns the place, her tail twitching back and forth.

  When the tomtes see Grog, they draw their weapons, and the mermen back up. Geryen growls, which surprisingly doesn’t wake Simean, who still dangles over the giant’s back.

  “It’s all right. This is Grog, my friend and bodyguard.”

  Grog stops short because the tomtes don’t put away their weapons.

  “Months ago, I found Grog in a bear trap,” I explain, “and, since I freed him and saved his life, he’s obligated by bugbear law to protect me. Like you, at first I couldn’t trust such a dark creature, but Grog has become one of my closest friends. I’ve learned he’s no darker than I am.”

  When no one moves, I add, “Please stow your weapons, or you’ll have to fight me too.”

  The tomtes put away the stun rods and dagger, their eyes still on Grog.

  Grog approaches me and pats me on the back, a blow that nearly knocks me over. I notice he’s gotten bigger while I was imprisoned. One day, he told me he’s a teenager in bugbear years, still growing.

  Grog grins and says, in his bass timbre, “Hi, Boss.”

  “Hey, don’t call me that.” I punch him in the arm.

  One of the first things I taught Grog was English. Because he was raised a dark creature, he didn’t know my language. In return, he taught me his language, and, although neither of us is very fluent, we now have rudimentary understandings of each other’s native tongues.

  I say, “Zoder,” which means “Hello” in Bugbearese and grab him for a hug. Due to his height, I can only clasp his waist. At first, he doesn’t hug back because bugbears don’t show affection. But then he engulfs me in his furry coat and squeezes so hard I can’t breathe.

  I pound his leg and squeak, “Grog, stop.”

  “Ooh, me sorry.” Grog releases his grip on me and hangs his head.

  Knowing he hasn’t had much practice in hugging, I reach up and pat his chest. “That’s okay. It’s good to see you. Grog el bona?” (which means “Is Grog good?” in his language).

  Grog smiles. “La, amba bono Grog.” (Yes, very good) “Calen hus una?” (How about Calen?)

  I nod my head. “Elia zonga.” (Okay now).

  I then introduce everyone else to Grog, but nobody in the party moves to shake hands with him, too many hundreds of years of distrust to be undone by my momentary reassurances.

  Grog grins at them all and says, with a bugbear accent, “I am pleased to meet you,” one of the few phrases he can recite grammatically. My new friends stare at him in disbelief.

  “And this is Esmeralda,” I tell them, “Crisa’s cat.” Esme licks a paw and purrs.

  My comrades don’t even smile at the newcomers.

  Crisa breaks th
e awkward silence. “It’s time we get you settled before dinner. Please follow me.”

  The members of my group give Grog a wide berth as they follow Crisa to see the rest of her cave residence.

  At the end of the torch-lined passageway, we enter a large, ivy-covered area. I assume the ivy is able to grow because the cave is humid, and water drips perpetually down the sides of the chiseled rock. Where the daylight is coming from, I have no idea. No torches line this area of the cave.

  The salon has vaulted stone ceilings and niches in the walls for things like fireplaces, art, stone benches and other furniture. I notice the statue of a cougar, crouched as if ready to pounce, in one of these niches.

  Crisa, who can peer into my mind anytime she wants, explains, “I conjured up UV light in the main part of the cave here, which allows the plants to grow, even though we’re encased in rock. The light, which is in sync with the sun and moon, recedes when it turns dark outside.”

  We reach an alcove off the main cave. It’s chillier in this hallway, and I shiver and wish for a coat. Suddenly, I’m wearing a jacket. Crisa smiles at me.

  She stops in front of a partial stone wall. “Here’s our first point of interest, the bathroom.”

  We peer around a corner. Behind the wall are two chairs with holes in the seats, one human size and one large enough for Grog. Crisa waves her wand and creates another, giant-size chair made of very thick wood.

  “That one’s for you, Geryen.” He smiles. She adds, “The chairs are placed over a deep hole in the rock.”

  We walk deeper into the bathroom to find that a nearby river has been diverted to create a large pond as inviting as any bathtub. Even though it’s steaming a little due to the colder, damper air around it, I’m guessing the water is chillier than I’d like, although this room feels warmer than the hallway I just left.

  Crisa says, “That’s geothermal water, so if you take a bath, it’s going to be warmer than you’d expect. The air in the cave and the surrounding stone cool it enough that it won’t burn you.”