Spies Among Us

by L. L. Bower

  Cackling, he shakes his head. “Too bad none of you are a match for me.” He lifts his chin and flicks the end of his nose with his finger. “But I was excited to try out my latest acquisition from that gnome there on you. I love these numinal powers. So easy to steal and so easy to use.” The “s” sounds hiss through his teeth. “You and your army of light ones are no match for me now.”

  “Oh, you didn’t know, did you?” he mocks. “Winston, your neighbor in prison, was one of my spies. He told me all about your so-called trained army.

  “And I plan to show this generation of pacifistic light ones how bloody and ruthless war can be. We’ll see how long they last in an actual battle and how quickly they retreat and beg for mercy.” He snorts.

  With one eye on Crisa, he picks up her spell books from the floor near him where they dropped and uses his wand to remove them from inside her leather pouch and place them on his lab bench.

  He gives me a smug look. “Did you know that, after my viewing ball showed me your destiny, I’ve been watching you for most of your life?”

  I try to move but can only wiggle my fingers. I look over and see Grog staring at me. He and Berb haven’t moved a muscle, and Crisa is still unconscious.

  “Your sister Cassie didn’t fall into that lake by chance, all those years ago.” I’m sure he pauses here for dramatic effect. “I opened the ice under her. I knew you’d try to rescue her, and I hoped you’d drown too. You were such a little thing back then.” I remember back to that day and realize, if Galdo is telling the truth, I couldn’t have stopped him because, since he’s a numinal, neither Cassie nor I could see him.

  Galdo sighs. “But, when you didn’t, I took further action to keep you from ever becoming a human champion.”

  He chuckles. “Do you think your parents died by accident?” He flicks the end of his nose again with his finger.

  I still can’t move, but my heart is thumping out of my chest, and my anger is now fueled by grief. The Creator says, “Careful, Calen, don’t stoop to his level and let your anger and grief control you. Keep your head.”

  Galdo gloats. “Fire has always been my favorite element. It’s such a shame that you and your sister decided to go to a party that fateful night, or you both would have been history too.

  “After I dispatched your parents, I thought that would be the end of your future ambitions and your role as champion. You two orphans would struggle just to exist.”

  At first, I don’t believe what he’s saying. After all the lies he’s told his own allies, why would he tell me the truth now? And yet, somehow, his story rings true. He knows what happened that night to my parents and what Cassie and I were doing. How would he know all that unless he was there?

  “But like an invading fungus ...” He sighs and stacks the books into neat piles. “You flourished, even settling in the very forest I control. So I conjured up a black SUV and tried to take you and your sister out with what should have been a fatal car accident. I can’t understand how you both escaped with minor injuries.”

  “Of course he can’t,” the Creator whispers. “He doesn’t believe in me.”

  “Your car, on the other hand, was totaled.” He pauses. “And the authorities couldn’t figure out how the SUV was driverless and unregistered.” He chuckles and arrogantly flicks the end of his nose with his finger again.

  His face catalogs a range of emotions from anger to triumph. Finally he adds, “Destiny outsmarted me again, but here you are, finally at my mercy.”

  I’m shaking, more from a deep sadness than anything, so I take deep breaths to keep myself stable. My heart hurts as I think of how my family has suffered because of me. A prickle of unpleasant feelings crawls through me—loneliness, helplessness, guilt.

  Why did I have to step on that royal fairy? If that wasn’t part of my destiny, how different would my life be? If I could, I’d hang my head on my chest. Maybe my parents would still be here, and Cassie and I could have had a normal upbringing. And I wouldn’t be facing the monsters alone, without my family.

  “You’re not alone.” The Creator’s voice again. “You have always been my son and I your father. Galdo is the one who’s truly alone. I created you to defeat the very evil you see in front of you.”

  “But first things first.” Galdo smirks. After counting them, he now uses his wand to send the books back to the open cupboard. “These are the most precious things I own.”

  Since Crisa removed the magic-dampening spell, my weather power now works in here. Even though the rest of me can’t move, I work my lips and realize my mouth is functioning. “Those books aren’t yours, and you’re not taking them!” Trying to sound angry, my words come out as squeaks from my still-zapped voice box.

  Galdo laughs.

  Part of me, my angry side, would like to hit Galdo with everything in my weather arsenal, but my rational side settles on Arctic cold. Concentrating, I produce subzero conditions only around him.

  From the storm nymphs, I’ve learned how to focus my weather powers. This skill comes in handy, especially in tight quarters like these. From the floor, where I’m still reeling from Galdo’s attack and trying to get the rest of my muscles to work, I end my request for extreme cold with, “by the power of the Creator.”

  The moisture in the air thickens around Galdo, making the cold almost visible, and frost envelops him. Ice crystals dust his hair, and his breath becomes visible. His lips turn blue. All he can stammer out is “w-w-w-w?”

  His sickly white pallor becomes even whiter. His wand and the books he’s been sending to the cupboard drop to the floor as his fingers solidify into claws and take on a waxy, bluish-white appearance.

  I can’t resist a little taunting. “It’s sad that the only way you can increase your magical power is to steal the powers of others.”

  Galdo collapses in a frosty heap, a look of rage frozen on his face. He curls into a ball, rubs his arms and shivers. After a few seconds, even the chattering of his teeth stops, and no part of him moves anymore. In a short while, he’ll freeze to death.

  Although still weak, I’m finally able to crawl over the cold floor to Crisa, thanks to the fairy prince Enlil’s quick-healing touch. My nerves tingle all over my body, but everything still seems to work. I rub Crisa’s wrists. “Come on, Crisa, wake up. We have work to do.”

  She opens her eyes, squints like she has a headache and rubs her arms. “Where’s Galdo?” She picks up her wand from the floor.

  “He’s taken care of. Are you okay?”

  She rolls her head around and scrunches up her shoulders to loosen them. “I will be. I’m just a little stunned. And my head hurts.” She touches her head with her wand. “Ah, that’s better.”

  I use my hands to climb my way up the cave wall next to the counter until I’m standing. Strange smells like formaldehyde and ammonia assault my nose. I take a minute to steady myself and then help Crisa to her feet. We both stand still for a few moments to regain our balance. Then I walk over and pick up my helmet from the floor. I call, “Come, Noblesse,” and my sword flies into my hand. I stow her.

  Across the room, Grog and Berb slowly rise from the floor too.

  Crisa sees the icy blue lump on the floor that was once the worst evil in Fairyland and asks, “Is he dead?”

  “If he isn’t yet, he soon will be.”

  I look around for my werewolf friend and see he’s still motionless where he fell. I glance back at Crisa. “Can you help Brutus?”

  Still weak, she totters over to my wolf/man, bends down and puts two fingers to his throat. I assume she’s checking for a pulse. “He’s very frail. Let’s see if I can rouse him.” She waves her wand. “Moto Energius.”

  The wolf twitches his nose, lifts his head and rolls from his side to a more upright position. He puts his paws out in front of him and climbs up onto all fours. He shakes his body like he’s wet.

  “Are you okay?” I ask him. I walk over and rub his head.

  He gives a feeble yip.

>   Across the room, Grog and Berb now stand. Berb walks over to Galdo, who’s still huddled and immobile, and gives him a swift kick in the stomach. I expect the sorcerer to shatter into a million ice shards, but instead his stiff body doesn’t even absorb the blow.

  Berb chatters something to Grog, and Grog tells me, “Berb say that feel good.”

  I turn to Crisa. “How did Galdo make himself look like part of the wall?”

  “I think he used one of my magic spells to steal the camouflaging ability of a creature like a rock fish.” She scowls. “Which requires the death of the animal. Harming animals for personal gain is something that makes me beyond angry.”

  “Just another, in his long list of atrocities.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “But he’s not going to be around for much longer. Let’s get your books.”

  She looks over at Galdo. “In a minute. First, I’d like to leave him something to remember me by.” She puts a finger to her lips. “When he leaves this world and stands before the Creator, his evil nature should be visible for all to see.”

  Chapter 14 – A Present for Galdo

  She walks over to Galdo, where Brutus has been on guard since Crisa renewed his strength. He emits a low growl, ready to pounce if Galdo should move a muscle, which of course he can’t.

  Crisa smiles at me. “Did you freeze him?”

  “Like a glacier.” I grin. “You might say I gave him a chilly reception.”

  “Nice.” She flourishes her wand, like an orchestra conductor, and says, “Nasas ipsum multum.”

  Galdo’s pupils dilate.

  I watch a lump appear on the end of his ugly, now rather blue, hawkish nose. The lump grows to the size of a grape, bumpy and scaly-looking. Something oozes from the center of the lump that resembles pus.

  “What is that?”

  “It’s a wart, maybe the largest in the history of the world. And it’s permanent.”

  I chuckle.

  “Now, let’s get out of this place of death and finish our mission.” Crisa flourishes her wand, and the books resume their trip to her pouch.

  When they’re all contained in that unbelievably small bag, she turns to the two goblin attendants. She flicks her wand, and gags appear over their mouths.

  I look over at my gnome friend, who’s still gray and motionless. I ask Crisa, “Can you do for Brambel what you did for Brutus?”

  “I can bring back someone’s strength only to a certain point, but I’ll try.” She chants, “Moto Energius,” and my gnome friend sits up. He groans.

  “Can you walk?”

  “I can try.” Brambel slides off the gurney, tries to stand and flops onto the floor. “On second thought, I don’t think I can.”

  “Grog, could you carry my friend here?” Grog nods.

  “Wait. Don’t give me over to another dark creature.” Brambel tries to crawl away. “I thought we were friends.”

  I reach down and grab his arm. “Relax. Grog is no darker than you or me, old friend.” I lift him to a standing position. “Trust me. Things aren’t always what they seem.”

  Grog puts a hand under each of the frightened gnome’s arms, picks him up and throws him over his shoulder. “He light.”

  Brambel pounds his fists against Grog’s back, like a child throwing a tantrum, but he’s too frail to wrest himself from the bugbear’s grasp. He lifts his head from over Grog’s back and looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  Grog tries to reassure with, “Grog friend,” but Brambel shakes his head and says, “Creator, help us.”

  “Let’s go,” I say to Grog. “We need to find those dragonettes before any guards return.”

  As we leave the lab, Crisa reaches around inside her pouch and pulls out the communication device she confiscated from Korga. “Let’s see how the battle is progressing and how much time we have.”

  She flips the on switch and keys the transmitter. She speaks Ogrish into the device. A deep voice responds on the other end, but the voice is weak.

  She turns off the communicator, stows it and tells me, “One of the guards told me that the reinforcements ‘I’ sent never arrived. Surprise. He said that the few guards left that weren’t badly injured ran away, and the others are either dead or severely injured. The dragons too are dead, which I hope means they’re playing dead, or have retreated. Sounds like the centaurs won.”

  I take a deep breath. “That’s good, but, that also means those few guards could return to the caves at any time. If the dragon babies are as endangered as Jade said, the sooner we find them, the better. And, once the dragons are back with their mothers, I’d like to check the prison to see if any numinals are still locked up.”

  Crisa shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. But what I can do is cast a spell that will open all the cells. That way, you don’t have to come back. Anybody still left prisoner, if they can walk, can escape.”

  And if they can’t walk, they’re probably dead or near death anyway. “Thanks.”

  After a few magic words and a wave of her wand, Crisa declares, “The cell doors are open.”

  Together with Berb, I open the lab door, and Crisa, Brutus, Berb, Grog—with Brambel over his back—and I step around the dead guards near the door and join Mordea, Caroom and Lawra in the cave tunnel.

  “We did it,” I tell the others. “Galdo is dead, or soon will be. No more experiments.”

  The oreads and the tomte smile big, and Mordea pats me on the back. “You realize, by destroying Galdo, you’ve cut off the head of the serpent and probably ended this war.”

  I hadn’t thought about the repercussions of killing Galdo, but Mordea is right. I may have saved Fairyland.

  Crisa turns to me. “We should destroy this horrid place, so no one else can use it as a lab again.”

  I think a moment. “With the Creator’s help, I can manufacture a cyclone strong enough to mangle metal.”

  “Good. Let me seal the lab with magic. Then you can have some fun.”

  After Crisa mutters some magic words that weld the heavy wooden door shut, I concentrate on producing a mammoth twister. Pretty soon we hear wind noises, the shattering of glass, loud bangs and the clang of metal being hammered against stone. Galdo and the goblins are probably sailing around the rooms too, together with the broken glass and crushed metal. Nobody could survive that.

  I drop my face guard, so I’ll be warned of dark beings before they arrive, and we head right, past the lab, toward an unexplored section of the cave tunnels. The tomte and Caroom still carry the bugbears’ torches, and Crisa’s wand lights our way in front.

  Our distorted shadows creep along the cave walls, as we plunge into this new area, which twists and turns. No outside light seeps through, not even from the occasional hole in the roof we found in other parts of these caves. I’m still looking for bats, until I remember that Berb said they were a temp spell so our escape would look real.

  The cave broadens into a long straight corridor, without alcoves or side passages. We soon discover that it dead-ends.

  I feel along the walls beside us. “Where are those babies? Do you suppose there were side passages we missed?” I ask Crisa.

  She shakes her head. “I’m sure we would have seen them. Galdo could have used magic to hide the dragons’ location though.” She sweeps her lighted wand over the area to reveal solid-looking rock walls.

  I sigh. “Does that mean we need to examine these walls, inch by inch?”

  Mordea runs his hand along the stone. “They have to be here somewhere.”

  “I don’t think we have to search the entire corridor.” Crisa concentrates her wand on the dead-end section in front of us. “I think Galdo wanted the babies out of the way but close enough that he and his guards could keep an eye on them, in case someone did try to break them out.”

  The light from her wand illuminates a solid-looking but smooth part of the cave wall, its surface unlike the rest of the bumpy stone.

  “Adclaro,” Crisa commands.


  A blue light appears around a door-size section of the wall. “Ah, see, easy to uncover if you know how.”

  Using my fairy-augmented hearing, I put my ear to the stone near where the blue light glows. I hear squeaking and squawking. “Our dragonettes are in there. Can you open this?”

  “Easily, but be prepared with the sign Jade gave you. They’re going to be scared and anxious to get out when I open this door. Not a good combination. We should all take a few steps back.”

  As I back up, I practice the Dragonspeak symbols for “home and warmth” in my head. I repeat them over and over.

  Crisa traces her wand along the blue light that forms the door’s shape and says, “by the power of the Creator.” Then she recites over and over, “Aperire, aperire, aperire ...” The door vibrates and then appears to melt into the floor.

  Chapter 15 – The Dragon Pit

  When the door first opens, the air emitted is palpable, thick and sticky, the stench so potent and putrid I can’t breathe through my nose. I think what I smell must be a mixture of dragon waste and dragon sweat.

  I plug my nose with my fingers and try to breathe through my mouth in tiny gasps to stem the gag reflex, but still I dry heave. Sometimes I curse my fairy-enhanced senses, and this is one of those times.

  Crisa recites something under her breath. “There, that should reduce the foul stench.”

  I take a deep breath. I’m sure I couldn’t have carried on if I’d had to endure that smell much longer.

  A horrendous squeaking and squawking crescendos from the opening. The dragons are so anxious to leave their dark, stinky prison that they jam the doorway, like a crowded pack of Tour de France cyclists negotiating a tight corner. They push and bite at each other to get out first, but to no avail.

  In the meantime, I repeat the clicks and whistles I learned from Jade for “warmth and home” over and over again. Though I replicate the signal as loudly as I can, I’m not sure they can hear me over the din.

  After what seems like eons, but is probably less than a minute, the noise diminishes a little. At least one of them responds with the same succession of clicks and whistles. I repeat the sequence again, and this time I have almost everyone’s attention.