“Glove? What glove?” Hambone asked.
“Do you mean this one?” Dante held up the one they had found by the jewelry booth. Grace chirped again, flew down by the side of the bench, and tweeted once.
Both Hambone and Dante looked at the ground to the right of Hambone’s feet. The werefox was on his feet first and snatched up the glove. He held it up and compared it to the one Hambone held. A matching pair.
“Kara’s been here!” they exclaimed simultaneously. Quickly, they began to look around. Grace watched them fret about, while she stayed in her original spot. After a few minutes of looking, both returned to the bench. Grace chirped.
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks Grace. We know she’s not hiding around here. Now, let’s think what does this mean?” Dante waved off the sprite. He stared down at the gloves.
Grace was not going to be put off. She flew in Dante’s face, startling him.
“What are you doing? Get out of my face.” Dante waved her away.
She dropped a pink and blue ribbon on top of the gloves.
“Isn’t that your sister’s?” Hambone asked pointing at the ribbon.
Dante looked down at the colored fabric. “It looks like Snowball’s.”
Grace went into a furious twitter of sprite speech that elevated at times and in which her aura flashed colors. Hambone and Dante stared stunned.
Dante tried to interrupt. “I’m sorry. I know she doesn’t like…” he said. “I know we should have….”
When the sprite finished, she looked exhausted. Hambone and Dante waited a moment, making sure she was done.
“We’re sorry for acting without listening. I think we just got excited about the glove clue and didn’t even notice the ribbon was there.” Hambone said, hoping never to hear Grace that angry again.
“So you figure Snowbell found her?” Hambone asked Grace. He got an approving chirp from her.
Dante looked again at the glove and the ribbon. “And my tricky sister left this clue for us because we would probably stop here?”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Hambone asked. “Let’s go find them.”
Chapter Eight
Sweat beaded on Jesset’s brow as the grinding stone spun beneath him. He could feel its power sharpening the edge of the sword. The rhythmic mediation set his mind at ease. His mind still filled with emotion, both worry and anger, the latter being prevalent. Those were not good emotions for a Mordock. Rash magical behaviors tended to draw unwanted eyes.
The fires sparked high in the brazier and the heat would be unbearable to most. Jesset was used to the dragon’s breath though; in fact, he relished in it. The firelight danced off the blade. He flipped the sword and stared at the clean edge, studying all the minute details. A drip of sweat fell from his nose and hit the smooth metal. The blade was good.
Jesset went to work on the other edge, starting up the foot pedal for the grinding wheel; starting his mantra for the next mediation. Stzzz…stzzz…stzzz…
His niece Kara, whom he had only seen a few times from a distance for the last nine years, had jumped into the Kilarne yesterday. Sources told him she did not drown, but she was in the Territories. Hopefully, his sources could provide some protection for her.
For almost hundred years, the land had feared magic. Anything magic or even the hint of it was strangled. Longshanks and then his son La’ard had seen to fostering this fear. Longshanks had been determined to purge the villages of any hint of alchemy He offered reward money to people who turned in others, which only made the peasants suspicious and nervous of each other. The king’s soldiers, renamed the Witch Guard, could show up at a person’s door if accused by another of being a witch. Accused witches and warlocks, often burned at the stake or drowned, provided a public warning. Even the young were not sparred. One scorned girl denounced a boy of seven as a wizard. Nobles cried out for his head.
When Jesset was born to a simple blacksmith, all rejoiced at first. This was their second male child; Kirt was their first. But as both grew, certain qualities about Jesset manifested themselves. Like when he was five, a rabid dog rampaged loose in the village. Jesset was out playing by the cattle passage when this wild beast spotted him. Anger seeped from its mouth as white foam. The dog charged the small boy. His mother, hanging clothes at the time, tripped while running to save her son.
“Doggie.” Was all Jesset spoke. Instantly, the dog stopped, cocked its head, and sat down. The boy got to his feet and went to pet the dog.
“No! Get away from that dog! It’s sick!” his mother screamed, struggling to get up. Jesset was already at the dog and patted it once on the head.
“He’s all better, Mama.” And sure enough, the dog had been cured. It lived another five years, a guardian to Jesset. He named it Carl. When asked why he named it that, Jesset replied because that’s what he told me his name was.
But the other people in the village cast suspicious looks toward the family. Rumors of magic began to spread. His mama didn’t care if her boy had magic. She just made sure no one took away. His family hid him away from view until things calmed down. It wasn’t until another family in a nearby town, imprisoned for magic, caused someone to remember Jesset and the rumors began again. Jesset was then ten.
Stzzz…Stzzz…Stzzz. He remembered Carl all right. He sure missed that dog.
He laid the sword to the side. Blacksmithing demanded hard work, but he would not trade his job for anything. It set his mind at ease, and his spirit calmed at the touch of metal. He’d learned the trade from his father, slowly but steadily. He still practiced blacksmithing even after the Mordocks took him away.
Memories of his childhood overwhelmed Jesset. When the rumors started up again about the family, his whole household became tense. Jesset’s father feared for his younger son. Through contacts in the market, he learned of an outlaw group called Mordocks. They were a roving band of people, who lived just beyond the reach of the king and his guard. Often times they would ‘adopt’ children with special abilities, a way to help the accused avoid royal measures.
Such a group was passing through town, when word reached Jesset’s father that the Witch Guard were on their way. His mother wrapped the boy in a blanket that evening, and took the horse deep along a trail. Jesset only remembered clinging so very tightly around his mother that he could hear her galloping heart beating.
The horse slowed in a small encampment, where he was uncovered and presented to the Taam, the leader of that particular Mordock tribe. Tears told the story for Taam, and he gladly accepted Jesset into the fold. The only stipulation: Jesset was now a Mordock forever. He could not go back and rejoin his family. He would be a member of the tribe. His mother reluctantly agreed. Their parting still brought tears to his eyes. Only ten, and permanently separated from his real family.
Seven years ago, he reunited with Kirt. A chance encounter at a tavern brought the brothers together. Overjoyed, Kirt wanted Jesset to meet his family, but the fear of magic lingered in the land still. He felt uneasy to meet his niece and sister-in-law and bring the eye of the Witch Guard upon them.
But somehow, Kirt became the spotlight.
His eyes traveled to a small chest tucked away in the corner. Locked away in that chest was a shard of mirror Kirt had given him several days ago. Was this the reason the Witch Guard took Kirt away?
He shook off his apprehension and sweat, stood up and stretched. His clothes felt drenched. How long had he been working at that sword? An hour? Two? Never mind—the duke who received it would admire it greatly.
Ruff, Ruff, Ruff…
“I know, I know. You need to be fed.” He smiled down at his niece’s dog. He was glad the small dog had found him after Kara was swept downriver. The dog had followed the river until Kara drifted out of sight. Birch hated even a bath, so Jesset knew there was no way he was going to swim after her. The dog told Jesset how he backtracked and caught an intriguing but somewhat familiar smell. Which led him to Jesset.
Jesset shuffled across the
dirt floor. Birch nipped at his heels. This little mongrel bounced along full of spunk. Birch made this uneasy time more bearable. He was the light at the end of a gloomy day.
Jesset brought forth meat left from his dinner the night before and threw that to the pooch. Eagerly, Birch scarfed up the morsel and looked around for more to fill his belly.
“Did Kara feed you this much or are you just trying your luck with me?”
Yes.
The dog jumped up and down in front of Jesset. He laughed and took a bit more meat and threw it to Birch. Again, it was gone in a flash.
Jesset prepared his own food as Birch stared at him, his tongue hanging out. Jesset knew what the dog was doing, just as he knew that there were two birds perched on his roof talking about their day. His ability to sense and communicate with animals came in handy. Not only could he talk to them, but he also could heal the worst of their injuries. This skill did not work on humans at all, for he tried many a time during his time with the Mordocks.
The animals were his source of information about Kara. A passing bird told him a dwarc had found her washed up on the shore. Jesset hoped for more information shortly.
A piece of onion fell from the table and disappeared in mid-air with very little effort from Birch. Jesset chuckled to himself. Once his food was cooked, he sat at his kitchen table to begin his meal. A bottle that held about two cupfuls of elderberry wine sat there from the previous night. It was a fine drink made by the satyrs in the Territories and delivered to him specially.
Seated and ready to eat, Jesset paused. Two deer approached from the south. He didn’t bother to get up, for these deer would come right into his household. Three minutes later, the head of a light brown doe poked through the open door, followed by her mate’s.
“Just in time my friends.”
Kara is safe. One of the were clan was seen taking her from Aladedas, the buck said to Jesset.
“Aladedas?” A human in that market could easily find trouble.
Sprite illusion kept her safe, the doe said, coming farther into the room.
“She has found powerful friends. Rare in the Territories.”
The doe nudged his arm. What should we do?
He rubbed the spot between her eyes. “You, my friends have done enough. I would not put you in danger. Enjoy some food. Rest and stay.” He stood up from the table and left his bowl. The deer came and sopped up the remaining food.
Jesset walked out the doorway, looking towards the Territories. He hoped Kara would be safe. For now, he could wait no longer to make his move.
Chapter Nine
As night fell, the bustle in the marketplace died down considerably. There were a few merchants who made their homes at the market, but most had other places to go. Katrena was one of those who had another home.
Skrag wrapped up all the merchandise and tucked it away in a trunk. He then loaded the product on a small cart attached to a pathetic mule. Katrena didn’t bother to watch Skrag anymore. He was infatuated with her and would never undermine his mistress.
She busied herself with watching the other vendors. Suspicion and contempt were the typical emotions that filled her. Too many times things had gone wrong and Katrena found herself in the middle of it. She now spent her life trying to make sure no one had the better of her.
Countless weapon trainings and physical workouts had helped tone her body and mind. Katrena had once been a member of the assassin’s guild and the thief’s guild too, but soon they came in conflict with one another. The assassins revoked her membership for stealing from the guild. Killing a few members in the thief guild did not ensure her popularity with that group either. Katrena didn’t care she was a pariah though.
Authorities were on the lookout for her, but not by name or description, really just by the crimes. That information did not give them much to go on, which allowed her the freedom to continue her business.
The only family left was her twin sister Ra’na and her mother. Dark elves were uncommon in Aladedas, but not as rare as humans. Races looked upon these dark cousins as ‘having a tendency towards evil.’ Really, they just assumed that dark elves were up to no good. And for the most part, that stereotype fit. Many other rumors about these beings were conjured from that belief of evil. Most were just utter nonsense.
Sunlight did not burn their dark skin. They did not drink blood or eat their victim, although Katrena did like her boar meat a bit rare. Silver eyes did not mean she was a silver-tongued liar. There were many other rumors that she laughed at because they were simply ridiculous. But when a customer came by believing in any of the stereotypes, she used it to her advantage.
“Skrag, are we ready?”
“Yes, Mistress. All done.” Skrag’s voice came out breathless. Some of that was just a side effect of the loyalty enchantment.
The trail home was smooth for the most part, except a few unearthed roots nearing the cottage. Katrena rarely conversed on these walks, enjoying the coming night, her favorite hour just before dark. Tonight she led the mule while Skrag rode. He had had a rough day, so she thought it best he should relax. Also because he would need his energy and strength on the surveillance mission in store for him tonight.
Skrag sat content staring at his mistress. Katrena tried not to look back at the goblin. Often he would have drool coming out of his mouth and look like a complete idiot. If he weren’t such a dedicated worker, Katrena would kick him to the curb. Or better yet, throw him to the Cynavinenan fighting hounds. They always enjoyed a good goblin chew toy.
Skrag hauled the trunk in the door. Small torches along the wall lit up like magic, pixie magic. Inside each torch, a pixie had been imprisoned, their natural light projected upwards.
“Mistress. All put away.” He looked tired but happy, or blissfully ignorant.
Her silver eyes caught some of the pixie shine. “I just have one more task for you, Skrag.” Her tone was melodious in his huge ears. “Just a simple scouting mission.”
***
Human laughter sounded from the bungalow like smoke from its chimney. Snowbell entertained Kara while they waited to see if their clue led Hambone, Grace, and Dante to them. They did not have to wait very long, for the door suddenly burst open and a fox charged in.
“Where is she?” Dante skidded to a halt in the middle of the living room. Hambone casually entered followed by Grace.
“So, I guess my little clue worked.” Snow said and then both Kara and she burst into laughter. Dante looked annoyed, but Hambone smiled, relief washing over him.
“We were worried,” the dwarc said.
And suddenly the mood seemed to change in the room. Kara’s laughter died down and something else replaced it. “Oh, you were worried. About me? A human in a market full of other races? And left alone?” She turned toward Dante now. “While you got a haircut, I was scared out of my mind.” Kara stood up. Silence followed. She still looked stern.
Dante looked ashamed. “But….”
“Snow rescued me. Something happened to my illusion. I panicked.” A deep sigh came out of her. “We only left the clue as a courtesy.” Kara returned to her seat. “For what it is worth.”
“I am…” Schunk! “…sorry.” Dante shifted to his human form in mid-apology. It startled Kara and made her forget her anger for the moment.
Snow sneered. “Cheap trick, brother.”
“He didn’t need it. I forgave him anyway.” Kara said. It took only a few moments for the mood to change to jovial again. While everyone got comfortable, Kara began to tell some of her market tale to the group.
“…had a blue stone set in this crystal design of a bat.”
“Women and jewelry. Of course.” Dante muttered smugly.
Grace flew into his head and gave him a knock.
“Ow, that hurt.”
Grace chirped and then flew back the girls.
“It was a beautiful piece. The caretaker was a bit creepy, and he insisted that I try it on. I forgot myself and took off one of
my gloves. As soon as my hand touched the necklace, I saw the look on his face. He could tell I was human. That’s why I ran.”
Hambone leaned forward. “That’s how we got our first clue. We found your other glove there. You don’t want anything from that shop.”
Kara looked puzzled.
“That booth is Katrena’s. She’s a dark elf. She also has a twin, named Ra’na.”
“Oh, the one who taught you how to make the soup?” Kara asked.
Hambone blushed and nodded. Nobody said anything for a moment.
“So what’s the big deal?” Kara asked.
“Katrena is bad news. Most dark elves are or can be.”
Dante smirked. “Except for Ra’na. Katrena doesn’t like big Ham here, especially since he likes her sister.”
“Ohhhh,” Kara saw the connection.
“But she’s bad news anyway. Very sly and too many rumors about what she is up to.” Snow added. “But very pure on race too.”
“What?”
Snow stopped and looked at the others before continuing. “I forget that you are still new to all of this. Katrena really can’t stand her sister, but even more so, can’t stand the fact that she associates with a mixed breed. I think poor Hambone’s life would be in danger, if he started to court her.”
“But that’s stupid.”
“Many of the races like a pure bloodline. Elves especially. Interracial couples are heavily frowned upon.”
Kara looked toward Hambone, who looked away. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s…there’s nothing you need to be sorry for.” Hambone said, still looking away.
Kara reached into her pocket, looking for her handkerchief. Her fingers felt something solid.
“What? Oh no!” Kara drew her hand out and held out the bat necklace. The gem started to sparkle. “It must have slid into my pocket!” Her voice became shaky.
“It’s okay Kara.” Snow was right next to her.
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