Ritual of the Lost Lamb

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “Oh, just shut up already,” the gypsy groans as she puts away her daggers. Weaving the flower into her hair, she frowns at how only her cheeks flush. “Don’t think this will be like last time. You won because I was split among many bodies. One of me wasn’t even in the fight. This round will be the real thing and I don’t need powers or weapons to do it. No matter what, Grasdon, you’re nothing more than a pampered noble.”

  “Eat pretty and then fight!” the Oakind bellows, not wanting the women to start early.

  Kira puts the foul-tasting flower into her mouth and struggles to swallow it while Sari devours hers quickly. She leaps away from the charging gypsy and pounces to deliver a kick to her opponent’s leg. The heiress is about to follow up with a punch to the head, but stops when the champion spews crimson onto the ground. One smell tells them that the crystalline ichor is not really blood, the stench reminding them of medicine. They both watch as the thick liquid oozes toward the waiting roots of the Oakind like it is alive. A wave of concern breaks through Kira’s rage and she goes to check Sari, which leaves her open to a slap across the face. Another splatter occurs and the combatants stop to stare at each other, an irritating buzz making it hard to focus their thoughts. They make eye contact and another surge of anger drives them to tackle each other and roll across the damp ground. Kira knocks Sari away and scrambles to her feet, nearly tripping over a root that is snaking through the dirt.

  “This is ridiculous,” the heiress says before she experimentally flicks her nose. The result is another blast from her mouth that makes her sick to her stomach. “Not that I can’t beat you, but this is beyond disgusting. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we were tricked.”

  “And not just by the Oakind,” Sari whispers, nodding her head toward Nimby. The halfling is using the rod on his skeletal arm to punish the Lich, which results in a burst of screams that startles the nearby cats. “I think Nimby fell asleep and his parasite put a conflict spell on us. We obviously have some lingering issues and he enhanced them to the point where I wanted to tear your head off. Do you feel overheated and sluggish?”

  “Like I’m bloating and about to explode,” Kira answers as she pinches her ear. She has a violent reaction that eases the growing discomfort, but she can feel the sensation swiftly returning. “We have to see this through to the end and get that herb. I say we continue the fight and make sure not to really hurt each other. Neither of us brought healing potions, so we have to be careful. By the way, I’m sorry for what I said.”

  “I’m sorry too. Hit me first since I’m having trouble moving.”

  Already cringing, Kira shoves Sari and dives to avoid getting hit by the red liquid that is drawing the Oakind closer. The gypsy helps her friend stand and decides to tighten her grip on the other woman’s wrist. With their senses starting to clear, the fighters become aware of an incredibly sweet smell in the area. After she is slapped in the face, Kira notices that the liquid coming out of her mouth tastes more like cheap wine than blood. Holding up a hand to stop the fight, the heiress returns to her weapon and uses the sickle to prick her finger. Real blood bubbles from the wound as the fake ichor erupts from her mouth, some of it hitting her arm. She waves Sari over and smacks the other woman on the back to help with the building pressure, the blast getting their feet.

  “This is getting more disgusting by the second,” Kira says with a groan. The young woman is about to rub her eyes, but fears that it will cause another explosion. “We’ve been turned into walking wineries and are helping the Oakind get drunk. I get the feeling that their plan is to have us eventually stop fighting and then explode from the alcohol that those flowers won’t stop making. Then, they’ll eat the rest of us or turn us into mulch. We need to get these flowers out of us. Nimby can steal the herb since they don’t seem to notice him.”

  “Take a deep breath and I’ll see if this works,” Sari whispers when she sees that the Oakind are mindlessly rocking back and forth. Signaling to Nimby, she points at the final herb while tendrils of water put her daggers back in place. “Looks like our new friends are in a trance. Still, this is going to be very gross and uncomfortable. Both of us might want to stick to ale and water for a while after this.”

  Putting her fingers against Kira’s lips, Sari kicks her friend in the leg and braces herself for the horrific expulsion. As soon as the heiress’s mouth opens, the gypsy sends a line of water into her throat and focuses on snaring the flower. She shudders and gags when her power touches the slimy plant, its influence splitting between her and Kira. Barely able to focus, Sari changes her plan and emits a ripple of cold that makes her companion gasp in shock. The gypsy does the same to herself by going through her own bellybutton, which cause both women to collapse to their knees. Their guts ache as the frozen flowers are shattered and their bodies violently expel the last of the fake blood. Exhausted and covered in muck, the adventurers get to their feet and glare at the applauding halfling.

  “That worked out better than I thought it would,” the Lich declares as he casts a spell. One of the patches of vines opens up to create a path out of the circle, the exposed animals scurrying into the shadows. “We got the herbs, you solidified your friendship, the Oakind got a treat, and I was entertained. These foolish creatures even brought us closer to a place that I can use to summon General Vile. You’re welcome.”

  “Do not talk to either of us unless we speak to you first,” Sari says, wiping crimson liquid from her face. She leads the way into the jungle and whimpers at the wave of heat that moistens her coating of gore. “You were right about one thing, Kira. This whole mess is entirely my fault and I should have found another way. I promise to give you the most expensive wedding present as an apology. Bigger and better than what any noble can get you. Money is no object, so don’t hold back when I ask you for ideas.”

  “You don’t have to go broke to say you’re sorry,” Kira replies with a smirk.

  “It’s so cute that everyone thinks I mean buying stuff.”

  13

  Nyx sprints through the forest and flings lightning bolts over her shoulder in the hopes of stopping the charging dread boar. The blasts hit the ground and runs up the creature’s metallic hooves, making it squeal in ever-growing rage. Intending to gore the half-elf, the crimson-tusked beast moves faster and uses its solid head to bash trees out of its path. With a graceful flip, Nyx avoids the attack and lands on the dread boar’s back. She grips the ridge of black hair to avoid getting bucked off and trampled, her knuckles aching from being clenched so tightly. The channeler attempts to cast a calming spell, but she slips and is thrown to the side before she can finish. Rolling away from the rampaging beast, she hurls a javelin of flames that burrows into the creature’s flank. As she scrambles away, Nyx is sent flying by the exploding animal and lands in a murky pond.

  “Anybody else here?” asks the half-elf as she crawls to the muddy shore. Standing in the shallow water, she looks down to see that her boots are missing. “Where is here? I remember waking, taking a bath, and going to breakfast in Silverstar Manor. Then, we were discussing where to go and Delvin went to get horses. My butt is definitely sore enough to prove I was on one of those. Must have gotten separated, but I don’t remember.”

  “I can explain if you want,” says a silky voice from the pond. A green-skinned woman rises from the water, her hair decorated with lilies and her body rippling with every movement. “You are lost and I can help. Sadly, I don’t know where your friends are, but I can look into your eyes and find them. Come over here because I can’t get too close to shore.”

  Nyx cautiously eyes the fairy, which reminds her of a river nymph without the natural shyness. “Why is that?”

  “Because it is winter and the warmer water is here,” the woman replies, stretching her arm forward. The limb turns to ice when it touches the cold shallows and she pulls it back to let it thaw. “I’m not a river nymph if that is what you are thinking. My kind is much rarer. I’m a spring fae and we thrive in the war
m waters. Please come closer and let me use your energy to find your friends.”

  Remaining cautious and on edge, Nyx wades into the middle of the pond and lets the woman touch her face. The sensation of her aura being massaged makes the half-elf yawn and realize that she is utterly exhausted. She remembers traveling for at least three days, but the images remain hazy in her mind and center on complaining about the horse. A voice echoes in her mind, eventually becoming that of Delvin calling her name. Nyx stares into the fairy’s eyes to see her fiancée chained and dangling over a hole while the others are trapped in a nearby cage. Shadowy figures drift in and out of the vision, their edges blurring as the half-elf starts to fall asleep. The scene abruptly twists into a red-tinted reflection of her own face, which disappears before she can make out any details. The shock leaves her with a sense that something is wrong and she struggles to open her eyes, the lids feeling like they weigh as much as a mountain.

  The sound of high-pitched choking and gagging helps Nyx break the illusion that she is under. She is surprised to see that her right hand is wrapped around the fairy’s throat and squeezing with all of her strength. The green-skinned woman has transformed to reveal jagged teeth and barbed tentacles instead of hair, very little of her previous features remaining on the monstrous body. A trickle of blood is running down the half-elf’s neck from where she has been bitten, the brief contact enough to make her react out of instinct. Enhancing her strength, Nyx hurls the predatory fairy out of the pond and watches it turn into ice. The creature shatters against a tree and melts into the earth where toxic worms squirm away in search of a new host. Not wanting anything else to be corrupted, the channeler burns all of the parasites with a rolling ball of flame.

  A low growl causes Nyx to whirl around and face a pack of wolves that are baring their ivory teeth. Feeling too weak to fight and tired of being pursued, the channeler transforms into mist and rises into the branches. The pack surrounds the tree and howls when the half-elf reappears, her attention on the surrounding landscape instead of the predators. All she can see is a leafless forest and many beasts that are too big to hide from view. Wyverns fly among the clouds and giants wander in the distance, so Nyx makes herself blend into her surroundings to avoid detection. She can hear trolls and ogres in every direction, at times the two predators sounding like they are fighting over territory. Ponds and lakes are nothing more than oddly shaped breaks in the forest, the water too low for the channeler to get a clear look. She thinks the L’dandrin River is to the south, but the strange line of missing trees is too far away for her to be certain.

  Coating her body in sapphire energy, Nyx jumps into an approaching breeze and lets it carry her high into the air. A fiery bubble that spits acidic gas keeps the wyverns away, the scaly beasts still circling the channeler from a safe distance. Her stomach tying in knots from a blossoming fear, she continues scanning the forest for signs of her friends or any familiar landmarks. A city in the distance reminds her of Hero’s Gate with its large wall, but she cannot see the Flooding Falls. Nyx twists to get a look at the other direction, but a powerful gale sends her further to the west. She is knocked around inside the flaming orb, her chaotic movements scaring the wyverns into the clouds. It takes a minute for the channeler to regain control and hover high above the forest where she can catch her breath. The land below becomes hazy and small, which makes her fear that she is floating toward the distant stars. Casting a magical tether into the trees, the half-elf carefully hauls herself toward the wintery forest. A frown is on her face when she sees the wolves are still waiting below, the determined pack having found a way to track her from so far away.

  Nyx stops at the sight of an unfamiliar creature barreling through the forest in pursuit of a small, crying figure. The beast is dark red with four powerful limbs and a long tail to help maintain its balance when running. It has a wide head with bulbous eyes, the orbs protected by a clear shield that glimmers in direct sunlight. No matter their size, any animal that gets in the predator’s way is chomped in half and ignored for the flailing form that is slowly getting overtaken. The beast grunts and groans when its prey veers to the right and narrowly avoids getting swallowed whole. Unable to turn quickly, the bizarre creature stretches its thick neck to attempt a desperate bite. All it manages to do is crush a tree while its large body rolls in its original direction.

  “Why am I just watching this?” Nyx asks when she snaps out of her trance. Yanking on her tether, the channeler hurtles toward the ground and unleashes a circle of flames that drives the wolves away. “Run this way! I’ll take care of whatever that thing is. I should be a little ways ahead of you, so follow my voice if you can.”

  “Thanks, big sister,” says a blonde-haired child as he darts out of the trees. His pointy ears reveal his Elven blood and there is a mischievous glint in his emerald eyes. “I can lead you to the others. They aren’t far away. We only have to kill that thing first.”

  “Luke?” mutters the channeler while staring at the boy. She hears the predator crashing through the forest, but simply puts out her hand to create a barrier that it bounces off of. “This is a dream. I’m asleep and this is some kind of nightmare. Let me guess. I’m going to be protecting you until the end where I have to decide between you and our other friends. This is to make me believe that I can’t save you, right?”

  “Actually, I’m a projection of the aura you absorbed,” the boy replies while watching the screeching beast’s failed attempts to reach them. He cringes when a tree explodes into fire-edged shards that pierce the animal’s furry hide. “You created me to act as a guide, but your aim was off. I ended up appearing by the river instead of near you. It’s also possible that the memory of what you did to Willow and Cyril caused you to create me. Either way, we really should hurry to save your four friends.”

  Nyx’s eyes turn gold as she examines the boy, a wave of her hand causing the ground to collapse beneath the determined predator’s weight. “You’re made of his aura, but you’re mixed with something else that I can’t place. Guess I could have done that. Still, I’ll be keeping an eye on you in case this is another trap. How far do we have to go to find our friends?”

  “They are being contained about two hours to the southwest,” Luke answers with a friendly grin. The boy rubs at the toy swords at his sides, the rubies in their hilts glistening like the real gemstones. “Things will get difficult when we have to cross the pit, so we should conserve our strength and avoid fights. At least after this one because that thing refuses to leave us alone. If it helps, that’s a construct created by the Baron to stop us from saving the prisoners. You wouldn’t be killing a real creature.”

  “That does make it a little easier.”

  “Great. Then, can we go?”

  “Lead the way, but nothing suspicious.”

  Nyx drops the barrier and turns to see that the predator is trying to climb out of the hole, the creature’s claws finding it difficult to grip the soft earth. She creates a compact fireball and is about to incinerate the beast when a needle of worry strikes her brain. Glancing at Luke, she sees that the blonde child is impatiently hopping from foot to foot. She gestures for him start walking while she follows with the churning spell held above her head. The channeler waits for them to get far enough away that she can safely toss the explosive orb into the hole. A large pillar of flames reaches the sky and attracts the wyverns, the reptiles flying close enough to enjoy the surge of warmth. The other animals watch the geyser, which sparkles to mesmerize their senses and prevent them from attacking the two travelers. To make sure her trick remains a secret, the channeler creates a gust of wind along the ground to wipe the sleep-inducing mist away from the edge of the hole.

  *****

  Nyx leans over the cliff to see exposed roots jutting out of the solid earth, half of them having been sliced by whatever destroyed the ground. Far below is a lake of shifting ice that will shred the channeler if she happens to fall into the jagged depths. Serpentine shadows move beneath
the surface, only the hump of a tail coming into view from time to time. While not a threat, a trio of vultures circle the area and scream at the two intruders. Small islands are scattered about the lake, most of them showing signs of having once been part of a large graveyard. Moving from one chunk of land to another is the only way for Nyx to reach an old temple that sits in the middle of the lake. The arched roof has completely caved in and the stained-glass windows are nothing more than empty frames, but she immediately recognizes the empty husk. Putting her hand out, she can feel her magic get cut off at the elbow by an invisible barrier. With a sigh, she pulls back and sits on a stump that is partially covered and consumed by flat-topped mushrooms.

  “This place used to be a lake of acid,” Nyx says, frowning at the sound of ice splintering below. She throws a ball of light toward the nearest island, the spell bursting into sparks as soon as it crosses the barrier. “There wasn’t an anti-magic wall either. This set up feels very sloppy since a careful enemy would remember the details. It really makes me think that this is nothing more than a dream or illusion.”

  “Unless the terrain changed since you were last here,” Luke explains while munching on a brownie. He offers half of it to the channeler, who politely refuses and goes back to thinking of a way across. “Sari did use a lot of magic around here when she was starting to learn about her naiad powers. Maybe she went too far and transformed the acid into permanent ice, but it kept its flesh-melting properties. So if you fall and are lucky enough to fall on a solid piece without getting sliced apart, you’ll still be killed before you can escape. Falling through is an even quicker death. As for the barrier, why wouldn’t there be one? You’re the only one who wasn’t captured and this is the best protection from a caster. At this time, I don’t think you have the power to undo a defense like this.”

  “That’s either true or you’re talking from my own doubt,” the channeler softly replies while pushing dirt around with her foot. Finding a smooth rock, she nibbles her lower lip while an idea begins to form. “The trick is to reach the building without dying. My magic can’t do it because of the barrier. If I’m expected to get over the lake then there has to be a way around this challenge. One that doesn’t require me getting help. The problem is that I only have one shot at this. Choose the wrong tactic and I fall to my death with only an illusion to bear witness to my final moments.”