She did not try to take it from me. She leaned forward, her brow furrowing and her face growing very serious. For a moment, I saw a flicker of recognition in her face. Something about this cylinder was familiar to her.
I held my breath until she pointed at the symbols. “There are at least four different languages on each wheel. Draconic, Dwarvish, Elvish, and one other I don’t know.”
I frowned. “But, I know Elvish. I don’t recognize any of these symbols.”
Elistra nodded. “The Elvish and Dwarvish symbols on this are from very old dialects. They aren’t used anymore.”
My hand quivered slightly as I spiked a suspicious eyebrow.
The fortune teller glanced at me, a hint of a smile turning up one corner of her ruby lips. “I used to have a book about the old languages. It was one of my favorites.”
“Do you still have it?” I asked. When she shook her head, I twisted my lips sideways in disappointment. It sounded like it would have been a very expensive book. Not that I would’ve taken it and sold it, mind you. Not from Elistra. At least, not right away.
Elistra twisted a couple of the little wheels on the cylinder. “All the symbols on the top mean Light. The next one below that is Dark. The next one is Freedom, and the next is Slavery… no! Chains. My mistake. Followed by Angel, and Demon after that, and Life and Death after that.”
I looked at the symbols carefully, realizing just how complicated this puzzle got. “If each wheel is filled with symbols that all mean the same thing, how are we supposed to line them up with one another?”
Elistra shrugged and twisted the top two symbols around, letting them rest in a couple of different positions. “You may have to try lining each language up. Or, it may be oldest to newest. Either way, I don’t think it will unlock until the entire puzzle is solved.” She pulled her hands away and yawned, stretching. “Have fun with that. I’m going to get some sleep before the next spider apocalypse.”
I tore my eyes away from the cylinder and glared at Qualar’s back. “How disappointed would you be if he was dead in the morning?”
“Wait till we’re on sanctified ground, that way you can be sure he doesn’t come back to haunt you.” Elistra laid on her side and pulled her blanket over her head as she spoke.
I shrugged, an evil grin crossing my face. “Like I wouldn’t enjoy killing him twice.”
THERE I WAS, SLEEPING IN THE RAIN…
Was, being the key word. As soon as my face started getting wet, I woke with a start.
Thunder rolled in the distance. The rain hissed as it lightly fell on the smoldering campfire.
Elistra and Qualar were both sound asleep.
The door was open on the wagon, and a raccoon sat just inside, gnawing too happily on a cheese wheel.
“Hey! Get out of there, you nasty varmint!” I lunged to my feet as the coon did, and chased it away from the wagon, flapping my hands like a graceful swan… or a dying crane, one or the other.
I frowned at the discarded cheese wheel, then poked my head inside the wagon. The bed at the back was empty. Rashel and her baby were not there.
I quickly looked around the outside of the wagon where the draft horse was supposed to be tied. It was gone.
A string of curses in multiple languages spewed from my mouth.
Qualar stirred. “So… much… cursing… why am I wet?” He scrambled to his feet, sputtering a few curses of his own.
Elistra sat bolt upright. “Is Rashel gone?”
I nodded, watching as the seeress rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “How’d you know?”
“I’m a fortune teller, dear.”
I snorted. That’s right. Stick to your cover story. But I knew better by now—a faker can always recognize another faker. It was probably one of the reasons she had taken me in.
Elistra stood and moved to the wagon, slipping past me and ducking inside, out of the rain. She assumed a cross-legged position on the floor and closed her eyes.
Qualar moved to my side.
“What are you doing?” the two of us asked as we stared at the fortune teller.
“I suspected Rashel instantly,” Elistra said. “The clothes that I gave her have an amulet sewn into them that I can track with my mind.”
Qualar crossed his arms. “Why track her?”
Elistra kept her eyes closed, her face stone. “Because she stole from Fran.”
My heart stopped. I spun on my heel and rushed across to my blankets. I jerked them up from the ground, shaking the raindrops from them. My treasure was gone.
Just for good measure, I checked Qualar’s blankets, then Elistra’s. The emptiness of both made my hands shake, and my heart pounded hard in my chest.
I went back to the wagon and clutched the doorpost, staring at the seeress impatiently.
“Well? Anything?”
Elistra frowned, eyes still closed. “She is halfway to Bendenwood. Off the road. Waiting. Waiting for something. She has the cylinder with her. And the baby.”
I grabbed a dry cloak off the floor of the wagon and threw it around my shoulders, marching in the direction of Bendenwood.
“Fran!” Qualar hurried to my side.
“Shove off, fire-eater!” I snarled. “I don’t need your help to strangle the little wench.”
“You wanna ride me?”
I scowled at him. “Excuse me?”
He sighed, “Not like that! I mean you can actually ride me and get there faster!”
I turned to yell at him, but all my words were forgotten as I watched his body twist and elongate. His arms raised and his hands turned to hooves. Antlers grew from his head, and his brown hair raced across his body, covering it in fur.
Next thing I knew, a beautiful elk stood in front of me. He snorted in my face, then turned sideways and scratched his back with the tip of one antler.
I smacked him in the shoulder, making him groan and prance to the side. “Are you a druid? Are you a stinking druid, you little coal-cruncher!? You’re supposed to be weaving baskets, not spewing fire to attract girls!”
“Fran! Focus!”
I turned to find Elistra watching me with her hands on her hips. “You don’t have much time! Whoever Rashel is waiting for won’t take long to get there. You must hurry and make sure they don’t get the cylinder. It’s more important than you realize.”
She said the words with such conviction that I pushed aside the numerous questions running through my mind.
After gracefully flipping onto Qualar’s back… and my rear hitting the ground on the other side of him… he finally knelt and let me slip on before galloping away with me into the trees.
THERE I WAS…
Lying on the ground, staring at my reflection in a silver sword. The icy sting of a sharp blade slid across my throat, followed by the warmth of my own blood coating my skin. Somewhere nearby, baby Raina wailed and cried. Terror gripped me as I started to choke, knowing that I was going to die very soon.
Oh, wait…
I’m getting ahead of myself.
Let me back up a few minutes or so.
I stared at Rashel from the cover of the forest. She sat cross-legged in a small clearing, the baby sleeping next to her in a basket. The draft horse was tied to a tree. And Rashel was fiddling with MY prize.
She squinted at the runes surrounding the cylinder, turning each wheel in a different direction.
I had been watching her for a solid five minutes… okay, maybe less… perhaps two minutes… I wasn’t keeping track of time, alright? I was fuming. She had MY prize and was trying to solve MY puzzle.
All the same, I was no fool and knew better than to rush in. Qualar was checking the perimeter for Rashel’s expected guests. I just needed to wait and come up with a plan.
As a plan was forming in my mind, there was a loud click from the cylinder that startled Rashel. She dropped my prize on the ground and stared as it began to glow with a purple light.
A breathless moment of silence passed.
All logical plans in my mind melted in the inferno of my rage.
She had solved MY puzzle.
Before I knew what I was doing, I summoned the magic deep in me. My skin tingled as I changed my appearance, just before stepping out into the clearing.
“What have you done?” My voice sounded like the halfling that had attacked Rashel in the alley.
Rashel jumped to her feet, spinning toward me. She frowned.
“Oh. Garth.” She glanced down at the cylinder. “Well, I didn’t mean to open it. Besides, what does it matter? My father will be happy. Anyway, aren’t you supposed to be hiding and waiting for them to get here?”
My heart stopped in my chest.
“I am hiding.” The halfling’s voice rang out just before he appeared right behind Rashel, smirking at me.
Rashel looked between the two of us, then nervously stepped behind the halfling.
I had meant to intimidate Rashel with this disguise. I had no idea that she actually knew the filthy little halfling.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Garth, eh? I never would’ve guessed.”
He snapped his fingers at me. “Got ya, shapeshifter.”
I sensed it coming and rolled out of the way just before the net dropped on top of me.
My heart raced. Every impulse in my body said to run into the woods, but my eyes locked onto the cylinder which still glowed with that purple light.
Elistra’s words rang in my mind. “It’s more important than you realize.”
Without thinking, I rushed Rashel and the halfling.
The halfling crossed his arms and looked over his shoulder. “Trym! Do your thing!”
Without warning, a beam of silvery light slammed down on me. At first, it looked like sparkling moonlight, but then the pain hit me. I stopped dead in my tracks as ghostly flames lit across my skin. My muscles twitched and spasmed as shooting pain raced under my skin.
I fell to my knees, gasping. I clawed at the ground, moving an inch at a time closer to my cylinder. A scream escaped my throat finally as the pain became too much, but then my scream turned into an unearthly wail.
The baby woke and cried out.
Rashel’s face contorted into one of horror.
Garth smirked and moved toward me.
Another halfling, a female in plate armor, stepped from the woods, her face a picture of concentration, her eyes glowing faintly with magic. She held a giant silver sword in her hands that grabbed my attention. I could see my reflection perfectly in its polished blade.
I watched with horror as my shape changed in my reflection. I grew long and frighteningly thin. My clothes melted into my body. My fingers elongated and grew knobby with claws. My hair shrank into my head, and my skin turned inky black. My eyes grew large and white, without pupils.
Finally, the halfling woman stopped in front of me. She stabbed her sword in front of my face so I could get a good look at my true reflection.
“We have ye now, doppelganger,” she hissed in a thick accent.
The magical moonlight disappeared, and I gasped for air as the agony it brought left my body.
Two more halflings, both wearing black clothes and hoods, dropped from the trees and grabbed the net off the ground, moving closer to me.
Garth, arms still crossed, circled me. “We’ve been watching you a long time, doppelganger. My cousin here, Trym, was one of your unfortunate victims.”
Trym squatted in front of me, grabbing me roughly by the jaw and staring me in the eyes. “I had a really neat javelin that shot lightning. Remember it?”
I snorted. “Wanna buy it? I’ll give it to you half price.”
The halfling drew her fist back and punched me in the nose.
Garth went on. “I have admired your work, beast. I can particularly respect the time you stole the crescent scepter out from under Eboneye’s nose last year. That was beautiful.”
“Thank… you…” I gasped, reaching a shaking claw up to touch my bleeding nose.
“As dangerous as it was to steal directly from Eboneye himself, though, I’m afraid you met your match when you stole from the baron. You see, this thing,” he nudged the cylinder with his boot, making the purple light shine brighter, “cost him a lot of time, blood, and money. He was going to give it to the duke of Dunwynn.”
“To save the family name from shame.” Rashel added softly, stooping and picking up her crying baby.
Trym eyed me with disdain. “He offered us a lot ‘o money ta find ye. I woulda done it fer free, though.”
I snorted blood from my nose. “And that is why… you will always be poor, short stack.”
Trym kicked me over onto my back, placing her giant sword across my throat.
Rashel shrank back a few steps, her face going pale as she knew what was coming.
Garth leaned over and smirked at me once again. “It’s been a fun game, beast.”
Trym tensed and drew her arm back.
And now we get to the part with the icy sting of the blade, and throat slicing, and blood and crying baby and all that good stuff.
As I choked on my own blood, a desperate, angry roar filled the air.
“BEAR!” Rashel’s voice shrieked in terror.
Before I could blink, a giant, brown ball of fur barreled into the group of halflings. It knocked them all away, then planted itself over the top of me. Belying its size, a huge paw lashed out, punching Trym across the clearing where she smacked hard into a tree. The creature then snapped at Garth, but somehow missed the slippery little halfling.
As my eyesight began to fade, all I could think about was my precious treasure. I turned to the side just enough to see the glowing purple cylinder. I reached out with a bloodied hand and touched it.
As my fingers closed around it, a trickle of blood seeped into the crevices. Then a strange thing happened. The cylinder began to hiss and pop, and the purple light flashed even brighter.
Suddenly, everything around me disappeared. I saw myself lifted high above the landscape, looking down on the world as if I were a star.
My eye was drawn to seven ancient towers that somehow seemed to stand out over everything else. One was in the mountains, another in a marsh far to the south, four across the seas, and the last hidden beneath the waters between.
As I stared at the towers, a massive storm formed before me. The clouds bubbled and brewed until they made a face that looked similar to Elistra’s, but the eyes were hollow, cold, and dead.
Lightning crackled throughout the massive cloud as a voice filled my head: You don’t belong here, little abomination.
Although I’d been called worse before, the words stung. I opened my mouth to shoot an incredibly witty insult back to the cloud, but it must’ve known that my superior insult would’ve burst it. With a wave of a cloudy hand, and a brilliant flash of lightning, the world shifted around me. The cloud and the towers all bobbed and weaved like reflections in a puddle, and then changed to a marble floating against a background of black silk.
As everything grew still around me and I could see things clearly again, I realized that it was not a marble at all.
I was far above my world, among the stars. The entirety of Arinthar was laid before me in a beautiful, silent globe. I could see the great mainland of Laurentia and the chain of isles that ran west of it. I could even see my home isle of Thac, though it was very small in comparison.
After a long moment of staring, mesmerized, at my beautiful world, a light at the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned to see the sun, blazing in all its golden glory, surrounded by the far whiter light of the celestial realms beyond. There are no words to describe the beauty that I saw there. It rendered me speechless, which, as you may know by now, is no mean feat.
I’m not sure how long I floated there in the ether, transfixed by that vision. Yet eventually my mind wandered back to thoughts of home.
As I turned my gaze back to Arinthar, I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. Five ghostly, nearly invisible chai
ns were anchored to different spots around the globe. I admittedly didn’t pay a lot of attention in school, but I couldn’t recall anything being taught about chains attached to our world.
My eyes followed the ethereal chains down to another world I had not previously noticed. It was almost as black as the space around it, but rivers of lava and fire rippled across its cracked, arid surface.
As I looked closer, I saw countless millions of beings roaming in packs across the surface. Some were very large, others very small, some white, some black, and some red, but all of them were hideous in appearance.
All except the succubi and incubi, of course. Some people I knew wouldn’t care if they were burning in hell, as long as they could be with that army of deliciously good-looking…
I stopped myself as I realized what I was staring at.
Demons!
As if it had heard my thoughts, one of the creatures, the largest of them all, stood and fixed its gaze upon me. His reptilian skin was red and black. His long, muscular arms did not end in hands, but in hideous hooked claws. A long, powerful tail swept behind him, filled with rows of deadly spikes. His skin was stretched tight across his face and rib cage, making him appear almost skeletal. Four giant spikes rose from his back, and four thick horns formed a crown around his head. Blazing eyes full of malice locked onto mine and froze me in terror.
Visions began to pour into my head. I saw Arinthar burst into flames. Every being on my beloved world—everything from men to dwarfs, and even dragons—were caught in the inferno. Yet, they did not die. No, somehow, they were forced to live as the flames ate away at them.
I could not look away as they writhed in agony. Their screams and pleas filled my ears. Beyond it all, I could still see the giant demon’s face, and hear the rumble of his laughter in the background.
I don’t know how long the visions continued. It seemed like centuries. I not only lost track of time, but I forgot who I was, or that I had even ever been. All I knew was torture. All I could feel was pain. I wanted my existence to end. I begged for death.
Tales From Thac Page 23