by Jim Hines
Suddenly the bearded man peered suspiciously at Jenn. “And who is this supposed to be?”
“I caught her trying to pick my pocket,” answered Nakor. Galadrion raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing.
Raised eyebrow count: 11
“I figured we’d sell her to someone as a kitchen slave or something,” Nakor continued. “We’re not getting paid enough to make a decent living anyway.”
The man laughed at that. “Ain’t that the truth.” He continued to study Jenn for a moment. “My name’s Lucas. That blond fellow over there’s Stephan.”
This is the part where they bond over low wages and jokes about slavery.
The mercenary identified as Stephan still seemed suspicious. “If she’s your prisoner, why isn’t she tied up?”
Nakor laughed harshly. “Aside from the fact that Galadrion here would kill her before she got anywhere, just where exactly do you think she’d go if she escaped?”
Lucas joined in the laughter. “Stephan’s just bitter ’cause he thought we’d found those two we were looking for.”
Looking slightly sheepish, Stephan wandered a few steps away. Then he turned around and said “What were you’re names again?”
“Thomas,” Nakor replied without missing a beat. “The sorceress is Lauren.”
Lucas clapped Nakor on the shoulder. “It’s great to meet another underpaid mercenary.”
Stephan stopped and stared at Nakor. “I thought you were a priest.”
What happened next was over so quickly that Jenn had to replay the events in her mind. Nakor shoved Lucas into Galadrion, who snapped his neck before he knew what was happening. Stephan managed to get his sword partly drawn before an arrow slammed into his chest, followed closely by another. Within seconds, both men lay dead.
“Oops,” Nakor said, looking embarrassed. “I think I made a mistake.” His black cloak faded into nothingness as Pynne ended her illusion.
“They needed killing anyway,” Galadrion commented. “Otherwise what would you have done with them?”
These characters are much more cavalier about killing than I remember. I was a bloodthirsty little college student back in 1995…
Pynne reappeared, glaring at Nakor. “Next time, you be the sorcerer and let one of us to the talking.”
Or maybe “do the talking”? This is why copy-editors are so important!
Jenn just watched in amazement. It had been the most efficient killing she had ever seen in her life. “Not bright enough to be dangerous?” she whispered quietly.
Bending down, Nakor retrieved his cloak from the fire pit. He stepped away and shook it violently, sending ashes and berries in all directions. He looked sadly at the berry stains and burn marks.
“It would make you too easy to identify,” Whoo commented as he reappeared.
“I know,” Nakor answered sadly. “But it was so comfortable.”
Dropping the cloak in the dirt, he turned to Jenn. “There are some people who don’t like me very much.”
She looked at the two bodies.
“You’re probably going to be safer if you don’t follow,” Nakor continued without stopping.
“So what will they do if they find out I was with you?” Jenn demanded.
Nakor closed his eyes. He knew what would happen. Olara or one of her priests would ask questions, trying to find out what she knew. After that, she would be killed. He looked helplessly at Galadrion.
“She might be safer with us,” Galadrion offered.
“It will take another half a day to get back to my home,” Nakor said. “Why don’t you come with us until then, and we can tell you the whole story. Then you can decide what you want to do.”
Jenn considered this. Alone, she would probably starve, or be captured by the people following Nakor. “Can you get me to a city?” she asked.
“There’s a small town about a mile past my house,” Nakor answered.
“Okay. Then let’s go,” Jenn said impatiently.
Nakor smiled, and they resumed their march.
* * *
“And her sword can drain people’s blood?” Jenn asked for the third time.
“Both the sword and the dagger can, yes,” Nakor answered. Jenn had been fascinated by the idea of long-dead gods and powerful spells. For hours, she had alternated between listening silently to Nakor’s tale, and assaulting him with a barrage of questions.
“And the coin protects her from finding you?”
“As long as we stay within fifty paces of Galadrion, yes.”
“Then why didn’t she find us this morning when Galadrion was off gathering berries.”
Nakor hesitated. He looked at Galadrion.
“I stayed within fifty paces,” she said with a shrug.
“Oh,” Jenn said.
Gesturing for silence, Nakor knelt down. “The forest thins out very quickly up ahead. After that, we’ll come to a river. The castle is just beyond.”
“You live in a castle?” Jenn demanded.
“Well, it’s not much of a castle,” Nakor admitted.
Cautiously, they crept up to the very edge of the woods. From there they could see crumbled ruins of the castle in the distance.
“I see four of Olara’s mercenaries,” Nakor whispered.
“There’s a priest over there,” Galadrion pointed, “standing in the shadows.”
I still don’t remember why they came back here.
“So,” Pynne asked, “All we need to do is get across the river, get inside the castle, get supplies, and get back out without anyone spotting us?”
Aha! They need supplies! Which apparently aren’t available anywhere else in this world. Understandable, since my worldbuilding thus far seems to lack any sort of shops, towns, settlements, or communities.
“That’s right,” Nakor answered. “And I don’t have the slightest idea how to do it.”
Pynne turned to Whoo, and they whispered back and forth for a moment. Then they both vanished.
“Wait here,” came Pynne’s voice. “You’ll know when to move.”
Nakor looked at Galadrion and Jenn. Shrugging, he sat down to wait.
“The nearest town is a mile downriver,” he said, turning to Jenn.
So there IS a town! But we can’t go there for supplies, because…um…
Jenn looked down. Despite her initial distrust, she had begun to like these people. They were the first people she had ever met that didn’t seem to want anything from her. Besides, she was fascinated by Nakor’s tales of magic and evil goddesses. While she was a long way from actually trusting any of them, there was still a strong urge to remain with this odd group of people.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Do you really think I’d be safe there?”
Nakor looked at Galadrion. “I’m not sure,” he answered. “Olara probably doesn’t even know that you’ve seen us, so there would be no reason for them to bother you.”
“Still,” Jenn said, considering, “I think I might be safer with you than I would be on my own.”
“How do you know you’re safe with us?” asked Galadrion.
That made Jenn pause. She was still confused about Galadrion, but she had also begun to admire her. The image of this tall woman casually snapping Lucas’s neck had burned itself into her memory. “I’d be safe,” she concluded.
Every young girl should have a tormented bloodsucking killer to look up to.
Nakor’s first instinct was to send her away in order to protect her. But he had long ago learned the futility of trying to force his decisions on other people. If this was what Jenn wanted, he would have to respect that.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked sadly.
Jenn nodded.
A ways down the river, a purple-cloaked Nakor peeked out of the forest and began making his way toward the castle. Pynne frowned. She gestured once, and Nakor’s brown boots shimmered briefly, then turned black. “Much better,” she muttered.
Once again, transitions are for the WEAK!<
br />
It wasn’t long before one of the guards spotted Pynne’s illusion. With a shout, he drew his sword and began running.
“Stay here,” the priest directed two of the men. He and the two hired guards began to chase after Nakor. Soon, they had vanished into the forest.
The two men who stayed behind turned to look at each other.
“Great,” said one, “So much for either of us getting the extra fifty gold.”
“Wasn’t there supposed to be a woman with him?” asked the other.
“Yeah. But there wasn’t any reward for getting her.”
His companion leered. “You mean we aren’t getting paid any reward for her. I think we could find ways of making it profitable.”
The other man laughed.
Ugh. No fantasy novel is complete without some sort of rape threat. Okay, look. Because I am disgusted with my 1995 self for thoughtlessly adding this particular cliché, I say we pretend the two bad guys are planning to turn a profit by asking Galadrion to teach them her wicked embroidery skills, after which they hope to start a business selling tablecloths.
Whoo was beginning to grow irritated with the conversation. Perching on the remains of what was once a wall, he carefully strung his bow.
Nakor watched as one of the two guards jerked back, clutching his throat. The other swiftly followed.
Oh no! The bad guys’ embroidery dream has come to a sad and sudden end.
He looked at his companions. “Teamwork,” he commented. As one, the trio raced up to the river.
There had been a sturdy wooden bridge that spanned the river. Now, all that remained were two posts on either bank where Nakor had anchored the bridge.
“Apparently they don’t want to make it easy for us,” Nakor commented. With that, he slipped off his boots and prepared to swim across.
Galadrion grabbed his arm. “Nakor, I can’t cross that,” she said, looking at the deep water ahead.
Nakor and Jenn looked at her.
“You can’t cross running water?” Nakor asked, remembering something he had once heard about vampires.
Galadrion rolled her eyes. “I can’t swim.”
I kind of like that reversal of expectations there.
With a laugh, Nakor turned back to the river. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the water. His brow wrinkled. Water was not the easiest of the elements to manipulate.
After a short time, he opened his eyes. A bridge of ice stood where Nakor had frozen a strip of the water. “After you, Galadrion,” he said gallantly.
Nakor’s magic can do anything the plot requires!
“You just want me to be the one to fall through if your bridge isn’t strong enough,” she accused. But she led them across to the castle anyway.
There, Nakor found that the heavy oaken door had been smashed. With a sigh, he led the others inside. Whoo followed, after taking a moment to unstring his bow.
Whoo read ahead and knew there was nobody else lurking inside, so there’s no need for weapons. He’s clever that way.
Once inside, Nakor moved swiftly. He opened a small door, then gave a quiet prayer of thanks. Olara’s men had been so busy trying to find him that they hadn’t bothered to steal anything.
He grabbed a coil of rope and shoved it in his backpack. As he grabbed other assorted supplies, he took a moment to glance back at Jenn.
Thank the gods! There’s nowhere else we possibly could have gone for rope.
“Do you need anything?”
Surprised, she shook her head. Nakor turned back and grabbed a few other items, then shut the door. Then he pursed his lips and whistled loudly.
A moment later, there was a flapping of wings as Flame flew out of another room to land on his shoulder.
“Wonder where he’s been hiding?” Galadrion said.
Wherever all good characters go when the author forgets about them for a few chapters. Also, the whole whistling thing? They really aren’t worried about the remaining bad guys that ran off after illusory Nakor, are they?
“There are plenty of good hiding places around here,” Nakor answered, ruffling Flame’s feathers. “Lots of good mice,” he added with a grin.
“Yeah, they ate most of your food while we were away,” Galadrion commented. “I grabbed what was left, though.”
“Great,” Nakor said. He grabbed some leather cord from his pack and cut off a small piece. He used that to tie his blond hair back into a long braid.
The elf’s tying his hair back. It’s on, now!
Reaching into a closet and pulled out a long brown cloak and tossed it over his shoulders.
Wait, what?
“How do I look?” he asked once he fastened the cloak shut.
Galadrion raised an eyebrow.
Raised eyebrow count: 12
“It’s the best I can do for a disguise,” he said defensively.
Moving quickly, they left the castle. Galadrion and Nakor each grabbed one of the dead guards, dumping them in the river as they re-crossed the bridge of ice. Once they reached the other side, Nakor stopped and looked back at the river. He waved his hand, and there was a loud cracking sound. Slowly, the ice bridge began to break apart and float downriver, melting as it went.
“Pynne said she’d meet us at the tree you fell out of,” Whoo said as they ran.
“Tree you fell out of?” asked Galadrion.
It pains me to read Galadrion’s line with no response from anyone. It’s like she went for a high five, and the rest of the party just left her hanging.
* * *
Pynne flew swiftly through the woods, sending her phantom Nakor darting between the trees. She paused to glance behind, making sure the others were still following. Seeing the three men crashing through the undergrowth, she began moving again.
To the right she could hear the river flowing. It had been about five minutes since she first started this chase. She figured Nakor and the others would need at least another ten.
Pynne has a digital watch for keeping track of time so precisely. It’s a pixie thing.
She ducked, narrowly avoiding a large tree branch. It was becoming more difficult to fly and maintain her illusion at the same time.
Breathing heavily now, she continued to lead the men further from the castle. They were slowly beginning to gain, as she was unable to fly at her usual rate.
Worried, Pynne looked around for some way of prolonging the chase. Perhaps there would be some sort of rough terrain over which she could lead them. If not, they would soon catch up to her illusion. Once that happened, Pynne didn’t know what she would do.
As she flew, she passed two baby bears playing under the close supervision of their mother. Pynne grinned briefly, remembering Nakor’s story about the bear family he had disrupted.
To the right lay the river. Up ahead, the forest seemed to stretch on forever. It was the most obliging forest Pynne had ever seen. Nice, even ground with trees spaced far enough apart to allow for easy movement among them. Nothing seemed to offer a promising route to prolong the chase.
“Maybe I could send them into the river,” she muttered to herself. It wasn’t a very promising idea, but it was the only thing she could think of to keep her pursuers occupied.
Suddenly she had an idea. She concentrated, and Nakor began to veer to the left, coming around in a wide circle.
Minutes later, she dropped the illusion and landed gracefully on a high tree branch.
“He disappeared behind those bushes!” the priest called to his men.
Putting on an extra burst of speed, the three men crashed through the bushes, then came to an abrupt halt. Nakor was nowhere to be seen. Up ahead, two tiny bears peered curiously at these intruders. They looked around nervously.
“He’s supposed to be a wizard or something, right?” asked one of the mercenaries.
“Maybe he changed into one of the bears,” offered the other.
“Can he do that?” asked the first.
“Well he couldn’t just van
ish!” insisted the priest. “Spread out, and start…”
He was interrupted by a loud growling from behind. As one, they turned around to see the mother bear rear up to her full height of nine feet. Angrily, the mother bear advanced, seeking to protect its young.
Pynne flew back in the direction she had come. She winced sympathetically, hearing the first scream from behind her.
“Silly footerlings.”
And they all shared a hearty chuckle as their enemies were mauled and mutilated by an angry bear.
Chapter 6
Nakor jumped, startled, as a small pinecone bounced off his head.
“That’s for this morning,” Pynne commented, coming into view in front of him.
“What happened to the others?” asked Whoo.
“Well,” Pynne started, “the bear had the advantage of surprise, so they probably didn’t do too well.”
She landed on the ground and folded her wings behind her. “Never get between a mother and her young,” she commented to herself.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a mean streak?” asked Nakor.
Pynne grinned. Then she studied him closely for a moment. “I liked the other cloak better.”
“Me too,” Nakor said.
“So now what?” Whoo asked.
“I think we should try and find the scroll Thomas was talking about,” Nakor commented.
You think? I didn’t write all of that exposition and plot-bait for nothing, you know!
“You don’t even know if that exists,” Pynne protested. “And even if it does, all he said was that it was ‘safe from her.’ How are we supposed to find it?”
“In the temple,” Jenn said quietly, without looking up.
Everyone stared at her. “Beg your pardon?” Whoo said.
Jenn looked at Nakor. “You said Olara couldn’t stay inside the temple, right?”
Suddenly an enormous grin spread across Nakor’s face. “Right,” he answered.
Jenn shifted position, uncomfortable at being the center of attention. “So what better place to hide something from her?”
“I don’t suppose you could tell us where inside the temple Averlon would have hidden it?” asked Whoo.
Jenn shook her head.
Something was tugging at the back of Nakor’s mind. It felt as if there was some fact he was forgetting, some little bit of information he was overlooking. He closed his eyes, trying to remember.