Curse Of The Dark Wind (Book 6)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  With a squeak, Fizzle snatches the crystal from Timoran and holds the smooth gem in his mouth. The drite takes a deep breath through his nose, filling his lungs and puffing out his scaly chest until it turns white. Spurts of rainbow mist bubble from his throat before he unleashes a stream of his hallucinogenic breath. Passing through the crystal, Fizzle’s magic becomes a glowing torrent that merges with the wind and absorbs the ashy remains of the Dark Hazes. The other crystals in the room reflect the colorful aura and fill the chamber with enough soothing energy that Timoran’s rage evaporates. A push of fresh wind rushes some of the enhanced drite breath through the entrance where it races toward the exit of Gale Hollow.

  “I think we are done here. We will leave the crystal near the entrance, so the locals can remove it when its job is done,” the barbarian calmly says with a smile. He takes the crystal from Fizzle’s mouth and pats the tiny dragon on the head. “You are a much wiser being than me. We are lucky to have you with us.”

  Unable to speak due to the strain on his throat, the drite blushes as they head for the doorway. The pair silently wondering how they are going to get up the chute they came down when they stop a few steps into the hallway. Both are surprised that the path is lit by moss that has absorbed enough rainbow mist to shimmer like gemstones. Next to the chute is the opening to a steep path where a very bruised, bloody, and battered Zander is sitting. The monster hunter grins as he pulls his cloak tighter around shoulders and staggers to his feet. Timoran chuckles at the sight of a double-ended reveler’s tail wrapped around the man’s body.

  “I was just about to rescue you,” Zander swears.

  “I am sure you were.”

  Timoran leads the way into the stairwell and takes a great deal of relief at the touch of a crisp wind passing over him. He feels Fizzle’s tears of joy fall on his shoulder as a swarm of glowing pixies emerge from the ceiling and disappear into the walls. Their speedy recovery gives the barbarian hope that Luke will be on his feet and fully healed by the time they reach the surface.

  *****

  Nimby waits patiently for Sari to finish making Luke comfortable on the snow bed, her peripheral vision never leaving the halfling. Daggers and spikes of ice are scattered around the thief, who continues to hide his concern with a charming smile. The wooden yo-yo in his right hand whizzes through air, but he barely pays attention to the tricks he is doing. Instead, he keeps his eyes on the tense gypsy and bounces on his toes to stay warm. He follows her gaze to the body of his father and rolls his eyes at the curious nod of her head.

  “If you expect me to feel guilty about that then you’re going to be disappointed,” the brown-haired halfling declares. He carefully walks around the corpse to stand on the other side of the bed. “He was my father and the one who taught me many of my tricks . . . well, a few of my tricks. Anyway, the man was a bastard and forged me into what you just spent ten minutes attacking with daggers and spikes. Nearly had me around the seventh minute.”

  “I wasn’t really trying to hit you,” Sari snaps, her eyes flashing to the bubbling snow around Vile’s shortsword. “I could have stopped you easy.”

  “Of course you could since you’re a champion and I’m nothing more than a simple thief and carpenter,” Nimby states with a laugh. He clears his throat and sighs, realizing that the girl is refusing to let her guard down. “I’ll explain myself if you swear not to share this with anyone. As far as your friends know, you killed General Vile. With him gone, I can settle some other things and I don’t want Luke trying to find me. That would be messy and I’m not really ready for that chat.”

  Sari draws a pair of daggers from her skirts and points them at the halfling. “You murdered Fritz and tried to kill Luke. I might not have been with my friends during that time, but I saw the aftermath of what you did. There’s no reason I should trust you. This could be a trap since you people don’t seem to have a lot of loyalty to each other. The only reason I haven’t killed you is because you saved me.”

  “Is that a yes or a no to my request?” the halfling asks, tucking the yo-yo into his pocket. He rubs at a bronze ring on his left hand, buffing the dull metal. “Look, little gypsy, I stayed away for as long as I could. I kept an ear out for news and returned when I learned my dad was on the move against you. A certain level of ruthlessness is needed to handle people like him. More if you’re going to tackle Stephen and I’ve never met the man.”

  The snow beneath Sari shifts and rolls under the bed of snow, lifting it a few inches off the ground. She moves Luke away from Nimby and creates a cage of ice around the thief. He leans against the bars, ignoring the chill that seeps through his black tunic. He taps at the prison with his shortsword, the pristine blade singing with ever strike.

  “You’re going to meet with the others,” Sari claims as she approaches the cage.

  “I didn’t like you to begin with and you’re not helping matters now,” Nimby says, his eyes following on his father’s poisonous weapon. He draws his yo-yo and flicks it through the bars to snag the shortsword and flip it into his empty sheath. “I like Luke and Kira as a couple. She makes him happy and I swore I’d see them together. Then you came along and made a mess out of things.”

  “Are you going to try to kill me now?”

  “That’s ridiculous since I saved you.”

  “You only moved when Luke was in danger.”

  “See? I’m not a bad guy.”

  “We’ll see what Fizzle and Nyx have to say about that.”

  Nimby spins his shortsword and swiftly strikes three of the ice bars with the hilt. All of them shatter and he escapes the cage, rolling away from the spikes that erupt from the ground. He gracefully avoids Sari’s attacks and yawns as he catches one of her thrown daggers. With a twist of his wrist, Nimby sends the weapon flying back at the gypsy. She catches it with a graceful spin, but he is gone by the time she looks back.

  “It appears we’ll have to continue our chat like this,” the thief announces from wherever he is hiding. He laughs at the sight of Sari turning around and looking for him. “The only people in the area who have a shot at finding me are dead in the snow, unconscious on a bed, or in what I believe you’re calling Gale Hollow. Cute name by the way.”

  “Talk then leave,” Sari replies. She gives up hunting for the halfling and starts gathering her fallen daggers. “I promise on the memory of my clan that I won’t tell the others about you. Take as long as you need. I’m curious to hear about all of your stories and excuses.”

  “I’m not going to blather on until your friends come back.”

  “You can’t blame me for considering that plan. I’m sure you would have done the same if you were in my position.”

  Nimby reappears on the other side of the snow bed and takes a seat near the forest tracker’s feet. He grins when Sari scowls at him, both of them drawing a weapon for comfort. “Aedyn must have figured it out and told the others that I diluted the poison I used on Luke. It was the only way I could give him a chance to survive and get myself out of the area. The entire plan was a close call because I thought Aedyn would be there from the beginning. As for my original allies, I had hoped they would remain unaware of my betrayal for a few days. They caught on quicker than I expected and sent a few agents before I could truly disappear. Anyway, I’ve been hiding and trying to figure out my new purpose ever since that night. This little incident is the first step toward clearing my past and taking my future in my own hands. Maybe I’ll face Luke one day, but not for a while. That’s my reason for all of this. Feels good to finally tell someone the truth. I don’t even remember the last time I had a conversation.”

  “I have one question,” Sari states as a cuff of ice snakes out of the bed and snares Nimby by the wrist. “Why did you betray everyone in Freedom?”

  The halfling sucks in a deep breath as if he is about to yell, but he slowly lets the air out to calm down. With casual ease, he slips his hand from the freezing cuff and stands. He glances at Sari several times, reveal
ing that he is wondering if she is worthy of another of his secrets. Biting his lower lip, Nimby rolls up his sleeves to expose his arms and them together. Old scars are on his forearms, the meticulous carvings spelling the phrase ‘You were right, Fritz’.

  “The old gnome said I couldn’t kill two friends in one night,” Nimby says in a shaky voice. He pushes his sleeves back down and turns his back on the gypsy, hiding his tears. “I told him he was wrong because there were times that I’d killed that many and more in one night. The thing is that I never had any real friends before this heroic moron and the other idiots. I was raised to be a thief and a killer, so they were prey to me. I cried when Fritz died in my arms and it was the first time I ever felt remorse. That greasy bastard was right and I tell him that every night before I go to sleep because I know he’s watching me from the afterlife.”

  “You were absorbed by your own scam,” Sari whispers, nodding her understanding to the halfling. “It happens a lot to those who go so deep into a role that they lose themselves. Do you know what went wrong?”

  “I couldn’t tell you when my act became my reality,” the thief admits. He cocks his head to the side and sticks out his tongue, tasting a subtle change in the air. “Maybe it happened when I started hanging out with Fritz while spying on Selenia and the Caster Swamp. I’m sure Luke had something to do with it too. I guess they all did, but it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done and now I have to figure out what to do next.”

  A howling wind roars through the trees and tears several branches from the canopy. Luke groans and shifts in the bed, causing Nimby to slowly back away. The halfling waits for Sari to pay more attention to the half-elf before silently sneaking back to his father’s corpse, its remaining eye still open in shock. Nimby takes a final look at the dead soldier and turns to leave, startled by the gypsy standing behind him. He chuckles and enjoys the rare feeling of being surprised, knowing his old self would have gutted the girl.

  “You can stay and tell them what you told me,” Sari politely suggests. She shakes her head when the scent of Ifrit mead hits her nose, the aroma making her dizzy. “Luke will be awake soon and he’ll be too weak to be angry. You could explain yourself to him and that will help you with Nyx.”

  “You’re ignoring the fact that I already said I’m not ready for that,” the halfling says as he steps away. His friendly smile fades away, replaced by a blank expression. “I mentioned that I swore I’d see Luke and Kira together. I know the situation with you three, so I won’t get involved. If he chooses you then that’s what happens, but I’ll come after you if you hurt my friend. We’ll see who wins when neither of us hold back.”

  “Then I guess we’ll never find out because I’m not going to hurt him,” Sari adamantly declares with a proud sneer. Luke’s coughing fit makes her return to his side, the gypsy sensing that the thief is gone before she can turn around. “Thanks for the save, halfling.”

  With another burst of wind, a rainbow fog flows into the area and envelopes the bed. Luke opens his eyes and sits up, his joints creaking from the cold. He is in a daze and looks around the clearing, the half-elf unsure if he is awake or asleep. His attention falls on the body of General Vile, which jolts him to full awareness and sends a surge of worry through his mind. He takes Sari by the hands and gazes into her emerald eyes as if they will silently tell him what happened while he was unconscious.

  “I had a strange dream that I barely remember,” Luke whispers, placing his head against the gypsy’s knuckles. He enjoys the coolness of her smooth skin and runs her hands around his warm face. “I feel a lot better. It’s as if my energy is coming back. Also, I could have sworn I heard Nimby talking.”

  Sari gives him a gentle kiss on the lips and rubs the back of his hands. “Definitely a strange dream, lover. Maybe you heard me fighting General Vile. Apparently he was Nimby’s father, so they might have sounded similar. Besides, your bard’s memory is probably fuzzy due to the infection.”

  “I guess you’re right,” the half-elf replies before coughing up a glob of gelatinous Dark Wind. The ichor dissolves into ash, which burn when touched by the rainbow breeze. “It’s a shame. I really want to talk to Nimby one day and find out his reason for betraying everyone. Guess it’ll happen one day.”

  “Just not today.”

  “Obviously.”

  “That would be ridiculous.”

  “What?”

  Sari kisses Luke with enough force to make him cringe from the pain in his stiff neck and shoulders. She eases him down to the snow bed and lets her hair fall upon his face, the cool tresses tickling his warm skin. Another gust of rainbow mist washes over them, leaving the giddy couple giggling over every word.

  11

  “Luke!” Nyx shouts when she sees her friends leading their horses into town.

  The sight of her little brother walking under his own power fills the caster with joy and washes away her worries. Pushing the bowl of medicine in her hands to a nearby priest, she carefully gets out of the gathering of sick animals and sprints across the courtyard. She is about to tackle Luke when the snow lifts her off the ground and engulfs her entire body. With a burst of flame, the prison melts and Nyx lands in front of Sari, who is blocking the caster from getting to the chuckling warrior.

  “He’s walking, but he’s still weak, Nyxie,” the gypsy calmly states before stepping out of the way. “Be gentle. I’ll never speak to you again if you break him.”

  “I wasn’t going to hurt him,” the caster mutters as she approaches Luke. She hugs him around the chest and pulls away immediately. “You’re freezing. Not just physically, but I can sense that your aura is . . . cold. I thought you guys killed the source of the living curse. Did something go wrong?”

  “It went as smoothly as it normally does with us,” the forest tracker replies with a smirk.

  “A few things did go wrong, but we were able to destroy the source,” Timoran reports, handing his horse off to a nearby halfling. The barbarian takes a deep breath of the evening air, enjoying the fresh breeze. “Zander has been giving Luke the last of the roots from the hill to keep him stable, but the Dark Wind has not left his body. I believe it is possible that General Vile hit him with a poison that is keeping him sick.”

  “I told you I killed the halfling before he could do anything,” Sari argues, stopping Nyx from asking a question. Her palms sweat as she feels her oldest friend’s attention boring into her face. “Vile attacked me when I was guarding Luke and I managed to kill him. He was after me because Stephen wanted me to suffer or something ridiculously evil like that. He tried to use Luke as a hostage, but I was a lot faster than he expected. So there has to be another reason for this.”

  Delvin slips between Luke and Nyx, taking the forest tracker’s hand and shaking it with care. “Welcome back and nice work, but I don’t think this is over. Many of the animals are steadily recovering and should be returning to the wild in the morning. It appears the ones with a more magical nature can only be stabilized. I took a look at the Verenstone Dragons who are not getting worse, but they’re still in pain. I think the Dark Wind is clinging to potent auras in an attempt to stay alive.”

  “Fizzle agree,” the drite says with a yawn. “It take time. Dark Wind resisting purge. Enemies have more plan.”

  “So what are you going to do next?” Zander asks while stroking his mount’s head. He pulls a bag of coins out of his pocket and tosses it to a nearby priest. “Forget I asked. I think this is where we part ways, champions. I helped save your friend and my debt to Nyx is paid. No offense, but you people are more trouble than you’re worth. Though the payday you helped me earn with those revelers is going to tide me over for a few years.”

  “Then you can get a decent job,” Luke snaps.

  “You get a real job first and then we’ll talk, hero.”

  “Nature killer.”

  “Tree kisser.”

  “Scumbag.”

  “Naïve child.”

  The two men stare at
each other for a few seconds, their fists clenched as if they are about to fight. Both warriors smile and chuckle before shaking hands, Zander making sure not to crush the weakened half-elf’s fingers. Saying his brief good-byes, the monster hunter gives Nyx and Sari kisses on the hands and slaps Delvin on the back. He bows to Fizzle and hoists himself onto the back of his horse. Shifting in the new saddle and adjusting the reins, Zander gets himself comfortable as he turns to Timoran.

  “You’re a good man, Wrath,” he says, leaning forward to give his steed a carrot. “I never realized barbarians could be so wise and strategic. It truly was an honor hunting with you and I hope we can do so again in the future. Under better circumstances, of course.”

  “I look forward to that day,” the redheaded warrior says, saluting the monster hunter with his great axe. “Be careful, my friend. Some of the local beasts may still be crazed from the Dark Wind.”

  “Thanks for the warning. Keep your friends safe, big guy, because they definitely need you.”

  Clicking his tongue and pulling on the reins, Zander urges the horse to turn around and trot away. As he passes the stables, he leans over to snatch a bag of horse feed from a pile and slings it over his saddle. The hunter tosses a few silver coins onto a table as he passes, smiling at the female halflings who are tending to a trio of griffin cublets. Zander waves over his shoulder before the stretching shadows of the forest envelope him and the clopping of his horse fades away.

  Timoran is still staring in the direction of the departed monster hunter when he feels someone tugging on his arm. He looks down to see Nyx gesturing with her head to one of the smaller towers, the others already halfway there. She taps her finger on the chestnut case that holds the Compass Key and an uncomfortable warmth runs along the barbarian’s skin. He awkwardly nods at the caster, who turns on her heels and leads the way to the tower. Patting the head of his great axe, Timoran follows and silently thinks back to the power that coursed through his body in Gale Hollow.