Cyril’s life was lonely in a sea of white-cloaked people until one day the previous year when he had encountered a young cleric-to-be who had just arrived from the east. She had long, black hair and an enchanting smile. Unfortunately, that smile had been frozen the moment she had looked at Cyril. The cyclops had carried the prone figure into the tower where the clerics had taken over, muttering and glaring at Cyril all the while. Cyril hung his head in shame as usual and returned to his duties outside, where his boss had done his part to make him feel even more miserable.
Surprisingly, the young cleric had come to see him later that same day. She seemed to have taken the incident all in stride, and had been understanding to his situation. She had told him it wasn’t his fault and that she forgave him. Cyril had thanked her, but kept his eyes averted, afraid to paralyze her again. Despite the uncomfortable exchange, she had visited him daily, chatting about her studies and asking him about herbs. They had become good friends, and Cyril’s boss had to order him to get back to work several times when the visits became too long.
“Hi!” said familiar voice behind Cyril.
Cyril half turned, remembering in time not to look at the speaker. “Hello, Vera,” he responded. “How are you today?”
“Fine. You?”
“O.K.”
Vera looked around. “Is the boss nearby?”
“He just went around back,” said Cyril.
“Good,” said Vera, relieved. “He cut our last meeting short.”
“We had lots of work to do,” said Cyril.
“Oh, quit defending him!” snapped Vera. “He’s always working you too hard and you know it.”
“Things are going to get busier,” continued Cyril. “We have to harvest many of the herbs ahead of schedule because of the situation at the Tower of Sorcery.”
Vera sat back. “I heard about that.” She fingered the talisman around her neck. “I hope Kazin is O.K.”
“Who’s Kazin?” asked Cyril suddenly. He took a chance and looked over at her. Fortunately, she was looking straight ahead at the garden.
“He’s only one of the most powerful mages alive,” answered Vera dreamily. She looked at the talisman at her bosom. “He gave me this talisman. It provides me with fire resistance and offsets most magical fire.”
“Why did he give you that?” asked Cyril.
Vera looked at Cyril, who looked away just in time. “He gave it to me when I was a little girl. My older brother, Max, who was a master mage and Kazin’s closest friend, had died in a quest, and the Tower of Sorcery awarded my family with this talisman to commemorate his heroic sacrifice.”
“How did he die?” asked Cyril.
“A dragon killed him,” said Vera sadly. She looked down to hide her sudden tears.
Cyril nodded. “You must be proud of him.”
“I am,” said Vera. “From that moment on, I wanted to become a cleric so that mages like my brother wouldn’t die needlessly like that.”
“That’s very honourable,” said Cyril.
Vera blushed.
“I thought I told you to water the faelora!” said a harsh voice suddenly. It was the head groundskeeper.
Cyril started. “Yes, sir!” The cyclops looked apologetically at Vera’s feet as he added, “I have to get back to work, Vera.”
Vera glared at the groundskeeper. “Why don’t you give Cyril a break? He works hard all day long and all you do is push him to work harder!”
“Vera, don’t -,” began Cyril.
“He works hard because that’s all he’s good for!” retorted Jake.
“That’s rude!” snapped Vera.
“Vera -,” repeated Cyril.
“Why don’t you go and spend your time with normal people instead of wasting time with one of my workers?” demanded Jake. “I ought to report you to the high cleric himself. I’m sure he wouldn’t approve of a student interfering with the work being done on the grounds. Now beat it while I’m still in a good mood!”
Vera reddened but decided not to push her luck. If the head groundskeeper reported her to the high cleric, she would be in danger of being expelled from the tower. And with the final test that afternoon, she could lose her chance to become a level one cleric. She couldn’t risk a confrontation with this evil man right now. Later, perhaps, but not right now.
A bell sounded, alerting the students to return to class. Vera took her cue, said a quick goodbye to Cyril, and headed for the tower. She could feel the groundskeeper’s eyes boring a hole in the back of her head as she went.
When the students had all entered the tower, Jake removed his hat and wiped a wet rag across his mostly bald head. “Stupid kids,” he muttered. He turned to see if Cyril was listening but the cyclops was already over by the faelora, giving them a good dose of water.
As he left to see how his other workers were doing, Cyril glanced up at his boss’ retreating form. For the first time in a long time, he was angry. Yelling at him was one thing. Yelling at Vera was something else entirely. Jake had no reason to be so mean.
Cyril was just debating whether to confront his boss when a co-worker came up to him and told him that Jake was on his way to report Vera to the high cleric.
The cyclops knew all too well what becoming a cleric meant to Vera. He knew how hard she had worked to get this far. To lose it all now would be devastating, especially if he was partly to blame. It was conceivable that Jake would actually report her to the high cleric, but to do so at such a critical time was unforgivable.
Without responding to the co-worker, Cyril dropped his watering can and scrambled for the tower after his boss.
The co-worker chuckled as he watched the cyclops run. He wished he could be there to see the confrontation, but decided it would be safer to wait for someone to tell him what had happened afterwards. It was amazing how good one could feel after telling a little white lie, especially if it affected two people he didn’t particularly care for anyway.
Chapter 7
Rebecca sauntered along the tunnel, her backpack bouncing leisurely on her back. As she went, her dwarven eyes scanned the rock walls for everything from mineral veins to traps. She was happier than she had been in a long time, despite the fact that she was far from the protection of the dwarven realm. Rebecca had worked long and hard to earn respect for her pathfinding and mapmaking skills. First, her uncle, Horst Hammarhold, needed convincing. After many successful scouting missions on behalf of the dwarves who lived outdoors near the top of the mountains, she had proven time and again that she could find and map mineral deposits with extreme accuracy. Prompted by this success, Horst, who was also the community’s representative, brought Rebecca’s findings before the king’s council. Rebecca knew the king fairly well because he and Horst were good friends, resulting in numerous visits where she saw and spoke with the king on many occasions. She called the king ‘Uncle Harran’ and he didn’t seem to mind. When Harran had found out about Rebecca’s exceptional abilities, he had immediately appointed her the title of ‘mapmaker’, which was a title he had worn proudly in the past. Even to this day, everyone called him ‘King Mapmaker’, to pay homage to his great skill.
After that, the king had given Rebecca more and more tasks, each one more difficult than the last. There were steep rock faces to climb with unknown tunnels beyond that needed mapping, to crossing narrow ledges through lava flows that led to suspected gem deposits. Each task Rebecca had eagerly and successfully completed, with complete maps and gem deposit markings.
The king had been so pleased, that he began making preparations to send Rebecca into lizardman territory. He had his top general, General Manhar, begin training Rebecca in the art of hand-to-hand combat. Within only a few months, Rebecca had been ready to venture into dangerous and unknown territory. Her task had been relatively simple. She had to locate any lizardman lairs she could find, and return to the dwarven realm with a map leading to their exact location, along with information on the approximate number of lizardmen residing t
here. Then General Manhar would be summoned to take an appropriate number of soldiers to the lair to eliminate the lizardmen. Rebecca was to be extremely careful not to reveal her presence to the lizardmen because if she got caught, no one would know where to find her. She was truly on her own.
The stout female dwarf was asked if she would take on such a task and she told King Harran that she would be honoured. She was aware of the dangers involved, and would take every precaution to avoid being captured. Rebecca had survived many dangers until now. She would persevere.
Now, she walked along with those thoughts in mind. Here she was, almost two days beyond the existing map she had been given to begin her quest. She was truly alone, as the king had said. Yet there wasn’t even a sign of a goblin or orc, let alone any lizardmen. She gently stroked the pendant around her neck. It was a magical item her Uncle Horst had given her to help her on her journey. It was intended to vibrate when something or someone magical was nearby. As yet, it hadn’t done a thing, and Rebecca wondered if it even worked at all.
Now the dwarf paused and pulled out her large chunk of parchment revealing her new map. She scratched her head for a moment before carefully drawing an addition to it. There was a fair amount of drawing to be done to compensate for the past half hour or so, but her memory was good enough to correctly draw out details and distances. She had passed only a few tunnels branching off in different directions, and was sure to mark their locations. She could have investigated and mapped out where they led to, but chose to stay in the main tunnel. It seemed to send her deeper into the mountain and farther away from the dwarven realm, where she decided it was more likely to lead her to a potential lizardman lair.
After finishing the map, she folded it up and tucked it back into her packsack to join her crossbow pistol and other belongings. She chose to carry a crossbow pistol because it was light and handy for shooting small rodents for food. A battle axe was a little too cumbersome for traveling long distances.
The dwarf hoisted the pack over her shoulder and slipped her stout little arms through the straps. With the pack secure on her back, she reached up and ran her chubby fingers through her short jet black hair. Some faint glimmering minerals above her in the ceiling momentarily reflected off a unique strip of silver in her hair. At first glance, one would think that Rebecca had a silver brace angled from front to back to hold her hair in place. That was not so. The silver ‘brace’ was actually a thin strip of silver-white hair that she had sported since childhood. It grew naturally that way, and she was always proud of it.
Rebecca looked up at the glittering ceiling and sniffed. “Fools gold,” she muttered. Instantly, she was on her way, bouncing along the path without further ado.
The dwarf traveled for only about ten minutes before almost stumbling past a narrow opening on her right. Another useless passageway, she thought, momentarily sticking her nose into the tight cavity. She was about to draw back into the main tunnel when a strange feeling on her chest made her gasp. She reached for her pendant and was surprised to feel it vibrating in her hand.
Rebecca stepped back into the main tunnel and the vibrating stopped. Whatever had activated the pendant was inside the narrow opening! Now Rebecca was excited. Something magical was in there!
Then a sobering thought hit her. What if there was a lizardman hiding in there? She reacted instinctively, drawing her lightweight fighting axe from the holster at the side of her backpack.
After standing perfectly still for several moments, Rebecca relaxed. If something was hiding in the opening, it would have gotten her by now. She would have to go in and see where the opening led. She had to. It contained magic, so it either led to magic wielding lizardmen, or something down there was magical. Considering it was the only thing of interest to happen in two days, it was certainly worth investigating.
Holding her axe in front of her, Rebecca squeezed herself into the opening. The going became more and more difficult, and the dwarf finally had to sheath her axe to free her hands so she could literally crawl along the tunnel floor.
First, the tunnel became nearly flat, and then it became extremely narrow and tall. All the while, her pendant vibrated more and more against her chest. Still she pressed on, determined to find the source of the magic.
It seemed like hours before the little dwarf squeezed through the final slit in the tunnel to arrive at a wider, room-sized area. The rocks in this location were almost black, and visibility was almost nonexistent, even to the dwarf. Fortunately, she had a fluorescent light stone in her pack. She rummaged around in the pack before withdrawing a fist-sized stone. It glowed with a faint greenish light. She held it aloft and peered around the room, taking a cautious step forward. A faint glimmer beneath her caused her to refrain from putting her foot down all the way. She looked down and saw what appeared to be a bone. Her forward motion forced her to step past the bone onto a safe area of footing, leaving her straddling the bone.
Cursing under her breath, Rebecca brought her other foot forward so she could stand properly. Turning carefully, she investigated the bone and saw the rest of the body as it was sprawled on the ground. Judging by its clothes, it appeared to be a dwarf. The realization that the body was that of a dead dwarf nearly made her retch. It was disgusting.
Turning some more Rebecca could make out the bones of another body adjacent to the first. It was somewhat larger, possibly that of a human. She wrinkled her nose, even though there was no odour. These bodies had been dead for a long time. Both were wrapped in tattered clothing.
Her momentary reverie was broken by the pendant, which was now vibrating quite violently. The magic seemed the strongest when Rebecca was facing the second body.
She started to step past the first body when something caught her eye. The dwarf had been carrying a bag, but the leather had dried and torn open. The items that were within were exposed to Rebecca’s light and she could see them fairly clearly. There were gold pieces, a few gems, a dagger, some chunks of coal, and other personal items that one would take on a long journey. But the thing that really caught Rebecca’s eye were the well-oiled parchment scraps that were rolled up tightly with a partly disintegrated string. It was a roll of maps! The dwarf was a mapmaker!
Excited, Rebecca reached down and lifted up the maps. She shuddered at the thought of stealing from the dead, but the other dwarf definitely didn’t need them anymore. Carefully unrolling the maps, Rebecca was amazed at their detail. She recognized them as showing tunnels and passageways from the entire area that she had been traveling! Even some of the passageways she had skipped had already been surveyed! Some of them even led to gem deposits! Hastily but carefully, Rebecca stuffed the maps into her side pouch.
Then she glanced at the dead dwarf with respect and pity. He was a talented mapmaker. It was a shame he had come to such a sad end. “How did you die?” she wondered aloud. She helplessly looked at the bones and tattered rags and noticed that the dwarf’s arm almost pointed to the second body. The rags on that arm appeared to have been burnt.
Following the pointing arm, Rebecca glanced at the second body, which was half sitting and leaning against the wall. The elbows rested on the floor with the arms outstretched ahead of them. The skeleton’s lower jaw was hanging and looked as though it was laughing at her. She shuddered and looked down past the skeletal rib cage to the arms and hands. It was then that she noticed the long, serrated dagger in the skeleton’s right hand. It contained a jewel-tipped haft. Curious, Rebecca leaned forward to examine it more closely in the light of her light stone. As she drew near, the pendant literally thumped against her chest. The dagger was magical!
Eagerly, Rebecca reached out for the dagger when the image of the dwarf’s burned arm appeared in her mind. She looked at it again and realized that there was no hand at the end of the dwarf’s arm. It had been burned off!
With a frightened yelp, Rebecca threw herself back and landed with an unceremonious thump on her behind. She shivered as she gazed at the dwarf’s dead bod
y. She had nearly ended up just like he did! That dagger was cursed! The dwarf died because he - or she - had tried to grab the dagger! Her heart pounded just as hard as the pendant at her chest. That was close!
After a few moments, the dwarf rose to her feet. There was nothing more for her here. The room was at the end of the tunnel. She had no choice but to retrace her steps back the way she had come.
No sooner had she risen to her feet when the strangest thing happened. The human skeleton’s lower jaw fell, striking the chest on its way down. This triggered the head to roll to the side and fall on the right arm. As if spring loaded, the right elbow shot forward and the right hand flung the dagger straight at Rebecca’s abdomen!
Instinctively Rebecca grabbed for the flying dagger. Miraculously, the dwarf caught the dagger in midair!
With her mouth agape, Rebecca stared at the dagger in her hand in astonishment. An instant later, she dropped the dagger and sprang away from it, landing, once again, on her behind.
For what seemed like an eternity, Rebecca stared at the dagger in fear. Then she crawled forward very slowly, never taking her eyes from the weapon. Soon she was directly above it. One thing repeated itself over and over in her mind. It had not harmed her. Was the curse broken?
Then she came to another realization. The pendant at her chest had stopped quivering! Was the dagger’s magic spent? Back when Horst had given her the pendant, Rebecca had asked him about it. Horst, not being very familiar with magic, could only tell her what it was supposed to do. The only other thing the mage who had sold it to him said was that any magical items in your possession would not interfere with the magic. That meant either the dagger’s magic was spent, or it now belonged to her.
Cloak & Dagger: Book II of The Dragon Mage Trilogy Page 6