by Dan McGirt
He continued reading. “I will now give you the test booklet. This is the Standard Heroic Aptitude Test, which will measure your potential for success as a hero. It consists of two thousand multiple choice questions. You are to fill in the blank containing the letter which matches what you think is the best answer to each question. Make no stray marks on the answer sheet. You have one hour.” He handed me the test booklet. “You may begin.” He turned over an hourglass on the desk.
I feverishly attacked the questions. Some asked me to identify weapons and monsters. There were questions about scholarly essays on heroic ethics, methods, and styles. There were problem questions, asking me to choose the best escape or rescue plan in a given situation. I answered those I knew from experience or common sense, guessed wildly at the rest. My pencil broke twice, and the scribe would only give me a new one after I raised my hand. As the final grains of sand fell, I was filling in blanks randomly, not even bothering to read the questions. I filled in the last one with seconds to spare.
“Time! You shouldn’t guess randomly, you know. There is a penalty for wrong answers.”
“I could never have finished them all otherwise.”
“You aren’t expected to answer every question.”
“Now you tell me.”
“Let me see your answer sheet so I can grade it. You have to achieve a minimum score to earn the right to keep the relics.”
“Some of those questions weren’t fair,” I said as he checked my paper.
“Such as you can’t answer questions about sea monsters because you aren’t from a seafaring nation? Yes, I’ve heard these complaints of cultural bias before, but the Standardized Heroic Aptitude Test is still the best measure we have of heroic potential. My, my! This is most irregular.”
“What?”
“You got them all right.” He glared at me over the rims of his spectacles. “You cheated, didn’t you?”
“Of course not! I didn’t even know I was going to take this test until I got here. I thought I’d have to fight a horrible monster which, frankly, I’d have preferred.”
“Mr. Cosmo, cheating is a very serious matter. I’m afraid I’m going to have to rule the results of this test invalid. You’ll have to take it again.”
Never! Not for all the holy relics in creation! “How would you like to take a swim in that river down there?”
“Are you threatening me?”
I wouldn’t really do him bodily harm, but he didn’t know that. I snatched up my axe. “Or better yet, I could—”
“Wait!” he said, quivering like a rabbit. “Wait! I was observing you the entire time and I saw no evidence of cheating. The results stand! Here is your claim ticket for the relics!”
“Thank you. I appreciate this.”
I jogged back up the tunnel to where Merc and the Keeper waited.
“What took you so long?” asked Mercury.
“It was too horrible to describe,” I said. I flashed the claim ticket before the Keeper. “But I passed.”
“Excellent! Excellent! You may take it all. I suggest you put the armor on now.”
“Why?”
“Because the Society will attack this place momentarily.”
“What! How did they find us?”
“The presence of The Gods, even indirectly, is like a beacon to them. Well, I must be returning to Paradise now. It’s been a pleasure meeting you both.”
“You mean you’re not going to help us?”
“I’m just a big strawberry. What can I do?” The Keeper shimmered and vanished. Merc ran up the stairs to ground level while I donned the armor, strapped on the shield, and took Overwhelm for my own. The hauberk weighed so little I felt I was wearing a suit of tissue, not chainmail. The helm wore like a felt cap. The sword was light as a broomstick. As I gave it a couple of experimental swings, Merc rushed back into the chamber.
“Jason! Run! Out the other door!”
“What is it?”
“Overwhelming force.”
“How bad can it be?” I asked, feeling confident and cocky with my new armor and the feel of Overwhelm in my hand. I vaulted up the stairs to the surface.
Hundreds of gibbering goblins, their light-sensitive eyes protected by green visors, streamed into the clearing from every direction, waving tiny swords and and clubs. They were accompanied by dozens of their larger cousins, the burly bugaboos. Natalia Slash hovered above on the back of her purple dragon, Golan. Isogoras the Xornite was seated behind her. They were escorted by Dylan of Ganth and twenty new Black Bolts mounted on sable gryphons and armed with crossbows, all aimed at me. I retreated back down the stairs.
“Merc! Run! Out the other door!”
“I thought you’d be back soon.”
We rushed down the tunnel as the goblins and bugaboos poured into the chamber. I lost my extra strength underground, but we didn’t have to deal with Natalia and company. It seemed a fair bargain. We reached the ledge over the Hidden River. The scribe and his furniture were gone.
“We’ll hold them off here,” said Merc.
I glanced down at the river below. “We’ll have to.”
“Step aside.”
The first of our pursuers were halfway down the tunnel. Mercury cast a spell which made the floor slippery as greased eels on ice. The lead goblins lost their footing and slid down the slope and right off the ledge to drown in the river below. Goblins can’t swim.
But they are surefooted, and once those further back realized what was happening and slowed their breakneck pace, they began to reach us on their feet. They could only come a few at a time, however, and I easily sliced them to bits. Mercury stepped aside to watch.
“This sword is wonderful! It almost fights by itself.”
“Considering the way you usually handle a sword, that’s probably a good thing.”
The first pair of bugaboos reached me. While I was engaged with one, the other struck me in the head with its spiked mace. My miraculum helm absorbed the full impact of the blow. I didn’t even feel it! I dispatched his companion and turned to skewer the one who had struck me.
“I could fight like this all day! The sword weighs so little it’s just like waving my arm around.”
“Did you ever try waving your arm around all day?”
“Still, this is easy.”
As the words left my lips, a powerful jet of water struck me in the back and slammed me against the wall. I bounced off and toppled backwards into the river, hitting the surface with a tremendous splash. The weight of normal armor would have dragged me to the bottom, but this suit didn’t hamper me at all. In fact, it tended to buoy me up, and I was able to use my shield like a float.
The attack had come from a trio of flashy girls on a rock in the river. They held a large hose from which water shot under high pressure. The wore scandalously styled black maillots, gaudy green lipstick, and tacky jewelry.
“Nymphs gone bad!” shouted Merc before he too was blasted from the ledge. When we were both in the water, the nymphs aimed the hose at our heads, making it difficult to stay afloat or even breathe. I lost my grip on both sword and shield, which floated away downstream. To escape the pounding spray, I dove underwater, as did Merc.
That respite would only last as long as we could hold our breath. I had powerful lungs, and Mercury had undergone extensive physical conditioning, so we had a couple of minutes before we would have to surface anew. We both had the same idea and made for the rock, coming up on opposite sides.
We took the nymphs by surprise, for they had evidently expected us to flee. I grasped one by the ankles and pulled her in. The others dropped the hose, which whipped about wildly of its own accord, spraying water in every direction.
Pulling a water nymph into the water was not good strategy. It offered her no resistance and she was all over me, unlatching my helmet and scratching at my face with long, sharp nails. Yet trying to get a grip on her was like trying to grasp the water itself. A second nymph joined her sister in battlin
g me, and together they forced me under.
The current carried us downstream. One nymph twisted my head back while the other caught me in an embrace and pressed her mouth against mine. The kiss was far from pleasant, for she vomited water down my throat. I flailed helplessly, drowning as surely as the goblins had. The water around us churned wildly and seemed to be flowing upward, in defiance of all common sense. It didn’t matter. I was close to senselessness anyway.
We broke the surface of the pool beside the clearing. Sunshine and open air. Not that I got to breathe any of the air. The nymphs were still holding me in place for the kiss of death.
“Enough!” ordered Isogoras from above. “Leave him to us! Bring the wizard!”
With expressions of profound disappointment, the nymphs released me to bob in the pool with dozens of goblin corpses. One of the Black Bolts swooped down so that his gryphon could pluck me from the water with its talons and deposit me on shore. I lay gasping on the grass like a beached whale. Natalia and Isogoras landed and dismounted.
“Are these yours?” rasped the wizard, dropping my helm, shield, and sword beside me. I coughed and spat in reply. “Did you think we were unaware of this place?”
“I was,” I wheezed.
“The Society knows all.”
“So you got lucky.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it.” A cloud of prying eyes flew into my view. “I have observed your every move since you entered the Forest, and you never suspected a thing. I gathered my hirelings and waited for the proper moment. You are mine to deliver to Erimandras the Overmaster. But first…” He drew a long, slim dagger from his belt. “You cost me my most prized possession, the Horn of Hockessin, which it took me years to locate. I was unable to find it after our encounter, so you must pay. The Overmaster won’t mind if you are missing a few fingers, an ear, an eye, perhaps your nose.”
Before he could begin his grisly surgery, the three nymphs surfaced with Mercury in their grasp. A Black Bolt snatched him from the water and dropped him beside me.
“What a pleasant surprise,” he gasped.
“Mercury,” said Isogoras. “This time there is no escape for you.”
Merc ignored the Xornite. “Natalia… keeping low company, aren’t you?”
“His gold is good. And I will also gain credit for Cosmo’s capture, netting me an easy ten million.”
Merc rolled his head to sneer at Isogoras. “Didn’t care to face me alone again, eh?”
“Too much is at stake for me to take chances,” said the masked wizard. “Careful planning pays. I have you, I have Cosmo, and I have the relics, all of which gives me the means to depose Erimandras when I return to Fortress Marn!”
Natalia’s eyes narrowed in cold calculation as Isogoras spoke, but the wizard appeared not to notice.
“Ever ambitious,” sneered Merc.
“Enough prattle! Bind them, Natalia!”
“Watch your tone when you address me,” she said, but she brought forth heavy steel chains and manacles from her saddlebag and approached us. I glanced at Merc. He winked.
Wizards recover quickly, which is what Merc had been doing as he conversed with our captors, stalling them until he was ready to move. I was ready too, my natural hardiness augmented by the hot rays of the sun. I sprang to my feet and held out my hands. Sword, shield, and helm flew into place with Mercury’s assistance. He stood at my side, armed with a saber pulled from his cloak.
Natalia dropped the chains and drew her own sword, the family blade which she had evidently recovered from the Longwash. “Cosmo’s mine!” she screamed, scattering the goblins and causing the Black Bolts to hold their fire.
“Drop the sword, Mercury, or I will order my men to slay you,” said Isogoras, indicating the mercenaries. Merc shrugged and plunged his weapon into the ground at Isogoras’s feet. “Let’s watch.”
Her attack was swift and brutal, but Overwhelm was equal to it. I certainly wasn’t. I just held on tightly to the haft and let the sword guide my arm, praying it was good enough to save me. None of her furious blows struck home, but I was clearly on the defensive and she forced me steadily back towards the river, where the wicked nymphs waited gleefully, hoping for a second go at me.
They would never get the chance. Once I lost my footing in the water, Natalia would win. But there was nothing I could do. The sorcery of Overwhelm, even backed by my strength, was no match for her skill.
While all eyes were upon our duel, Merc stealthily reached into his cloak. He whipped his hand free, releasing his entire stock of flares into the air. Half of them whizzed upward to burst amid the hovering Black Bolts. The spooked gryphons flew out of control in all directions. The rest of the flares went off near the ground. The goblins fled, their visors offering no protection against a light so bright and near. One flare burst in the face of Isogoras and another next to Natalia. Golan collapsed, stunned into numb blindness.
Blinking, I staggered and fell backwards into the pool. The nymphs surged forward, only to stop at the sight of Mercury’s outstretched hands. He helped me to my feet and we ran from the clearing.
“Where are we going?” I asked as we passed a group of goblins. Streamers of light penetrated the gloom beneath the trees.
“I don’t know! Just keep running until we think of something better!”
“Isn’t this the part where the friendly lugs come to our rescue?”
“We’ve already done that scene. I think they’re gone. They didn’t strike me as fools.”
“So we’re on our own. Great.”
“It’s good exercise.”
Mercury fell flat on his face, twitched, and didn’t move. I knelt beside him. “Merc! Are you okay?”
The goblins, back in their element, started to regroup.
Avoiding the patches of light, they cautiously headed our way.
“Merc! Get up!” I took off my helmet and bent to listen to his breath. I found none. “What happened to you?”
I felt a sharp sting on the side of my neck. I reached up and pulled a tiny black dart from my skin, the kind shot from a blowgun. It was marked with the symbol of a crescent moon. That was the last thing I saw before all went dark.
* * *
19
I woke. I was lying on my stomach with my hands and feet bound by thick leather thongs. The air was chilly, the snowy ground was hard and stony. My armor had been removed and my tunic and pants provided little protection against the cold. The light was dim, but nothing like the gloom of the Incredibly Dark Forest. I rolled onto my back and got a better view of where I was. The sky was gray and overcast, the sun present but not visible. The landscape to my right was a craggy collection of weathered rocky hills. Mercury lay about a yard away, unconscious and bound as I was, his cloak missing. To my left a dilapidated suspension bridge with frayed ropes and broken footboards spanned a deep chasm. On the far side was the wall of vegetation that unmistakably marked an edge of the Incredibly Dark Forest.
“You awaken. Good. I am BlackMoon.” The soft stiletto voice startled me. I looked up from my sightseeing and saw him standing over me. He was lean and hard, a living dagger of a man with green cat’s eyes. I had not heard his approach across the gravel-strewn ground and he had been nowhere in sight a second before. “I hoped that you would, for I wished to tell you how rewarding this hunt has been.”
“Where are we?”
“Malravia. This is the rendezvous point at which I will deliver you and your companions to the agents of the Dark Magic Society and collect the reward.” He frowned. “A pity.”
“Why?”
“This has been an enjoyable hunt. It is the pleasure of the chase which I love, not the pecuniary rewards. My skills are such, however, that I am rarely challenged.”
“And I—we—challenged you?”
“No. It was not a matter of skill on your part, but the interesting circumstances through which you led me. I held back, savoring the hunt and waiting for the perfect moment. Stealing you from N
atalia Slash and the Xornite wizard in the heart of the Incredibly Dark Forest was a finer experience than I could have asked for. Better even than the fall of that lout the Red Huntsman.”
“If chasing me was so much fun, let me go and we’ll do it again.”
“Every hunt must end, and this one has gone on too long. It is time I turned to other pursuits.”
Mercury stirred and mumbled, then rolled onto his back. He quickly took in the situation. “Malravia. Haven’t been here in a while. And you must be BlackMoon.” The bounty hunter nodded. “I’ve admired your work,” said Merc sincerely, “though I’m not too wild about this particular demonstration of your skills.” He strained at his bonds.
“Thank you,” said BlackMoon.
“Incidentally, how did you manage to carry the two of us through the Forest? I am assuming it has been several days since our capture and that you kept us drugged during the journey.”
“It has been a week;” said BlackMoon. “And you were carried by my porters, a pair of jujula bound to my service.”
“What are jujula?” I asked.
“A breed of minor spirit beings sometimes enslaved by sorcerers in need of cheap labor,” explained Merc. “But yours, I take it, are bound to serve the wearer of some magic talisman in your possession?”
“I do not care to discuss my methods any further.”
“Of course not,” said Merc. “I assume agents of the Society will be arriving soon to take us into custody?”
“Enough talk. I only allowed you to awaken so that I might express my appreciation for giving me a good hunt. It is now time for you to sleep again.” He withdrew a black vial from a pouch on his belt.
“Don’t bother,” said Merc, slipping casually out of his bonds. He leaped to his feet and dropped into a fighting stance. BlackMoon reacted instantly, hurling the vial directly at him and ripping a slim, black dagger from its sheath on his thigh. Merc batted the bottle aside. It shattered on the rocks. “My martial arts training included secret methods for escaping ropes and manacles,” he said.