by Neil Hartley
“And what?”
“Well, truth be told, it’s a bit… picky.”
“A bit picky!?! A bit picky!! I slog through crazed Golems, invisible cat men, mad wizards, medusas, giants, wild elves and angry dragons for a magic wand that’s a ‘bit picky’!!” He waved Darkblood. “Here, let me show you picky!”
“Oh, leave the imp alone.” A voice came from the door.
The undead swiveled around, to see Redthorne standing there. Behind him was a small group of Drow elves. One was holding the baby, another was holding a black dagger to Emerald’s neck.
“You!” Percy said.
“Me,” said the wizard. “I’m glad to see you again Dreth, even though you seem to have lost some weight.” He gestured at an elf in finer armor than the rest. “Allow me to introduce Harm Undertow, Dark elf commander.”
The Drow bowed slightly. “At last we meet,” he said. “You have led us quite a merry chase.”
“You’re working with them?” asked Dreth.
“We came to an… agreement,” replied the mage. “Now, the only thing is, I want the wand.”
“I see. And what if I say no?”
“Oh, there’s no need for unpleasantness,” said Redthorne. “I can supply you with information in return for it.”
“What kind of information?” Dreth asked, still holding Darkblood.
“I know the location of someone who can release you from your contract.”
“But the wand could do that.”
“Maybe, maybe not. In any case, we need the wand.”
“You can’t hurt me wizard, the Spite stops you casting any spells.”
A female Drow in long robes stepped forward. “I’ve released the wizard from that curse.”
Dreth looked at the assembled elves and then back at the wand. Why couldn’t things go his way, just once?
The Way Out.
“I’m not so sure,” said Dreth. “How do I know your information is worth the wand anyway? I mean, if the thing’s so powerful, I may not need your help. I can just release myself with it.”
“Don’t be foolish now,” said Harm, tapping the pommel of his sword. “I’m being generous in deference to your obvious contributions to evil, but I am not a patient elf. The offer will expire soon, and my wizardly friends here,” he indicated Redthorne and his Drow mage, “are more than capable of dealing with you.”
Dreth bent over and picked up the wand. Holding it in one hand he looked at the Drow, weighing up the artifact against the assembled foe. Eventually he tried to breathe in, realized he had no lungs and raised Darkblood instead. “I think you’re bluffing,” he said. “You saw me fight the dragon and know what you’re up against. I think you’d have come in casting fireballs if you thought you could harm me.”
Harm scowled. “You’re being unreasonable. We mean business. Here, I’ll give you a little example of what my mage can do, just to prove how serious we’re about all this.” He turned to the Drow sorceress. “Kill the female. Slowly. Very slowly.”
“Ooh, a show!” said Percy, clapping his hands.
The mage smiled and approached Emerald, who struggled futilely in the grip of two guards. Taking her victim’s chin in black fingers she smiled. “This is going to be fun.”
As Emerald screamed, the Drow began to intone in a slow and ancient language, the words of the spell hanging briefly above her as black mist before dissipating.
Smiling in ecstasy the sorceress raised her arms high above her head, speaking in louder tones as the climax of the spell approached. The power of the magic was almost visible, distorting the air in the small chamber like heat rising from the desert floor. Dreth took a step back.
The Drow shouted the final words and held her hands out wide.
Emerald screamed in pain and fear as blood started to drip from her ears and eyes. “Noooo!”
“Oh, but yessss,” replied the Drow mage.
The elves looked on, white teeth showing smiles of great enjoyment as their sacrifice rose slowly into the air, flailing about wildly.
“Wooo!” said Cuthbert.
Dreth sidled slowly sideways.
“Wait.” The sorceress stepped back. “That shouldn’t happen.”
A red glow was emanating from Emerald as she twisted about in agony.
“Uh oh,” said the pink treasure imp, and disappeared with a pop.
“What’s wrong?” asked Harm.
“Something’s interfering with my spell.” The Drow sorceress frowned and rolled up her sleeves. Taking a deep breath she opened her mouth to cast more magic.
“Don’t Bother!” Emerald’s voice, amplified many times over the norm, echoed around the chamber. The female magic user flew backwards, her body slamming against the far wall with a sickening crack of broken bones.
Dreth gave the wand to Cuthbert and put a finger to where his lips should have been. The zombie looked puzzled, but nodded and secured the magical device in his pouch.
The elves were backing away from Emerald, who was now hanging still in the air, her hair floating about her head like some kind of unholy halo. The red glow was stronger now, and an aura of immense Evil was pervading the room. Dreth noted, with some satisfaction, that it was obviously causing Redthorne intense pain. The baby was howling his lungs out too.
“Leave My Vessel Be!” came the voice again.
Redthorne slumped to the floor, unconscious, and several of the elves fell too, clutching their heads. Dreth moved quickly, grabbing the baby from the one holding it as he dropped.
“This One Is Mine! You Will Do Her No Harm,” said the Evil through Emerald. Each word came out at an almost physical intensity.
Most of the Drow were down now, unconscious or dead. Harm desperately dragged himself out of the doorway, staggering away with one other elf following closely behind.
The body of Emerald watched them go, and then swiveled round to face Dreth and the zombies.
“Er, hi,” said Dreth. “Names Dreth, Guardian of the…”
“Be Silent!”
“No problem. Silent it is.”
Emerald’s drifted closer, bathing Dreth in red glow, which he now saw emanated from one of the rings on her finger.
“You Are Responsible For Waking This Body. Therefore I Charge You With Keeping It Safe Until I Wish To Inhabit It.”
“Keep in safe, gotcha,” said Dreth.
“It Will Not Go Well For You If It Comes to Harm, Do You Understand?”
“Well, no offence or anything your immense awfulness, but you seem to be pretty good at defending it… her… whatever, by yourself.”
“I Am Only Able To Visit This Plane To A Finite Number Of Times. You Will Look After This Vessel.” Emerald raised a hand and pointed at Dreth.
“She does go on a bit doesn’t she?” Dreth heard Percy whisper to Cuthbert behind him.
“Duly noted,” said Dreth, who privately agreed with Percy’s opinion.
“I Weaken. Something Is Resisting Me. Remember… Look After… This… Vessel.” The red light faded and Emerald floated slowly to the floor, coming to rest gently against the wall.
Dreth looked down at the baby in his arms. It was sucking its thumb. He tried to frown, remembered he had no flesh, and made a tutting noise instead.
“Well, that was pretty cool,” said Cuthbert, leaning down and jabbing one of the Drow bodies.
“Are they dead?” asked Percy.
“Not yet,” said Cuthbert, pulling out a rusty dagger.
“Leave them, Drow will give you stomach ache.” Dreth, walked over to Redthorne and nudged him with his foot. The wizard groaned.
“I don’t think I can get stomach ache, can I?” Cuthbert looked at Percy, who shrugged.
“Never been a problem for me,” said the other zombie.
“Wizard. Wake up!” Dreth poked Redthorne again.
The mage stirred and clutched at his head.
“Ow. What was that?” he moaned.
Dreth ignored the question. “Get up. We need to get out of here, and I want to know what you know about my curse.”
Redthorne staggered upright. “And then I suppose you will kill me.”
“Don’t be stupid,” said Dreth. “I don’t care what you do, just tell me what you know and I will let you go.”
“Give me the baby first,” said the wizard.
Dreth handed the baby to Cuthbert. “Hold this, and don’t eat any bits.” He turned back to Redthorne. “If you tell me the information, I’ll give you the baby, unharmed.”
The wizard stroked his beard. “Deal, but we have to get out of here first,” he replied.
“Fair enough,” said Dreth. “Assuming we can find the exit.”
“Hey boss, look who I’ve found!” Percy said from near the doorway. He held up the small ragged and unconscious figure of Smudge. “Can I eat her? Please?”
“Maybe later,” said Dreth bending over one of the fallen Drow and taking the scabbard and robes.
The zombies watched as he sheathed Darkblood and donned the garments. Smudge came to just as he was clipping the cloak on.
“Welcome back Fearie,” said Dreth. “How are you feeling?”
“Is that you Dreth? You look terrible,” replied Smudge.
“Not as terrible as you will if you don’t tell us how to get out of this dungeon,” he replied. “You said your home was the Black Garden, and it was near an entrance. How do we get there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Fine,” Dreth looked at Percy. “You can eat her.”
“Wait! Wait!” The Fearie waved her hands as the zombie grinned and lifted the small form to his mouth. “I remember now!”
“Ohh,” Percy moaned in disappointment as Dreth motioned for him to stop.
“So, how do we get out of here?” asked Dreth. “Start talking!”
~ * ~
The mirror cleared to reveal the image of the Overlord, sitting at his desk, hands resting with fingers interlocked in front of him. His face was one of utmost calm.
The Dungeon Master fell to his knees in terror.
“I hear,” the steady voice came through the portal, “that Dreth is still at large.” The bespectacled figure leaned forward, pushed his glasses further up his nose and picked up a piece of paper.
He read the document for a moment more and then looked back at the Master. “Furthermore, he has in his possession the woman, and…” there was a hint of a twitch in the lips here, “ and he has reached the center of the dungeon and found the treasure!!” The Overlords’ skin began to smolder, and there was a definite reddish tinge to the otherwise unassuming visage. The table began to smoke where his hands were touching it and the paper he was holding bust into flame and was quickly reduced to ash.
“G…great and merciful Overlord, I can fix this. It’s not too late,” quailed the Dungeon Master from his groveling position on the floor.
“Issue a general alert, NOW!” shouted the Overlord. “I want Dreth cut into little pieces and locked in a magically sealed rune box, do you understand me? I don’t care what it takes.” The wooden surface of the desk smoldered and then ignited.
“At once your magnificence! It shall be done!”
“If it isn’t, your still living hide will be used to refurnish my chair.” With the final threat the image winked out, leaving the Dungeon Master shaking in dread.
~ * ~
“Why don’t you just use the wand to find out what you need to know?” Cuthbert asked, trying to jiggle the baby, and nearly dropping it.
Dreth patted his side. He had retrieved the magical device from the undead and secured it in a pouch. “I want to find out what the wizard knows first,” said Dreth. “If he can direct me to my destination then we can save the wand for a real emergency. Anyway, the imp said the thing was ‘picky’, so there’s always the chance it will go wrong. I need time to think how to use it best.”
They were back in the lava tunnels again, following Smudge’s directions. The Fearie was sitting on Percy’s shoulder, tightly bound with some strips torn from his rags.
Dreth left the zombie behind and moved up to walk next to Redthorne, who was supporting Emerald. The woman had come round with no recollection of what had happened to her. Apart from some unsteadiness, she was unhurt.
“How did you get past the dragon anyway?” he asked the wizard.
Redthorne looked up and smiled a small smile. “Oh that was easy. We just said we were with you.”
“Hmm. That was after you met up with your Drow masters of course.”
“Don’t be foolish,” retorted the wizard. “We bumped into them whilst, ah, securing a defensive position against the dragon. I had to pretend to make a deal, or they would have killed us both at once. I knew if I led them to you we could overcome them together. We make quite a team eh?”
“Don’t bullshit me wizard, I know you’d destroy me in an instant if you could. You were looking out for number one.”
The wizard scowled. “Yes, well. Maybe.”
“Oh, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, I would dispatch you without a thought if it became necessary too,” said Dreth casually.
“How reassuring,” replied the mage dryly. “I will bear that in mind.”
“Are you sure you aren’t a Dark Wizard? I mean, you seem pretty intent on getting this baby at whatever cost. That’s not very usual for someone on the side of Good, as far as I know.”
“Sometimes there needs to be sacrifices for the greater good,” said Redthorne solidly. “I do what’s needed, that’s all.”
Dreth nodded. “Well, just remember, so do I. Don’t get any funny ideas. We currently travel the same path, so there’s no need for you to die needlessly.”
Redthorne raised an eyebrow. “Now who’s talking out of character? I think you’re getting soft Dreth. All this talk of ‘no needless killing.’ What would your masters think?”
“I have no masters,” said Dreth with feeling, but then, because he was honest at least to himself, added: “Well, none I acknowledge anyway.”
“How far is this exit?” interrupted Emerald in a weak voice. “I could use a rest. My body feels like it’s been through a wringer.”
Dreth looked back at Smudge. “How far Fearie?” he asked.
“There should be a door any minute now,” she replied in a sullen voice. “It leads to a little used portion of the dungeon. Through that and I know the way into the service tunnels. If we use them I can get us to the Black Garden with no interruption.”
“There’s the door now,” said Percy, pointing ahead at a stout wooden portal blocking their way.
“Go and check it out,” ordered Dreth.
Grumbling the zombie complied, shuffling forward and pulling back rusting bolts until it swung open with a creak. He peered through and then slammed it shut quickly, throwing the locks back into place hurriedly.
He turned around and leaned against it. “Er, I don’t think we should go this way. There must be another route we can take.”
“What? Why not?” Dreth demanded.
”Er… Dragons! Yes, dragons. Hundreds of them,” said Percy, waved his arms about. “Big ones.”
“Dragons?” said Smudge. “Are you sure?”
“Oh yes. For sure. You can’t miss thousands of hungry dragons staring you in the face.”
“I don’t know,” said Cuthbert, tapping his chin with one finger. “Wouldn’t all those dragons be making some noise?”
“They were, er, sleeping. Yes, sleeping,” replied Percy.
“I thought they were all looking at you?” asked Redthorne.
“Some of them.”
“There are no dragons, are there?” Dreth queried.
Percy looked from left to right for a moment, before giving up and doing a good impression of a sigh. “No.”
�
�So, what’s behind the door then?” Cuthbert asked, striding forward.
“No! Don’t go in there!” Percy cried. “It’s bad, really bad!”
“Worse than dragons?” Cuthbert pushed him to one side and fiddled with the bolts.
“Pretty much,” said his friend miserably.
The others watched as the Cuthbert shoved open the door a crack and peered around.
“Well?” said Dreth. “What do you see?”
The zombie pulled his head back and looked at him. “It…”
“Yes?”
“There’s…”
“What??!! Spit it out will you?” Dreth cried.
“There’s nothing. Darkness there, and nothing more.” Cuthbert pushed open the door, making Percy wince. Behind it was a standard dungeon corridor, remarkably empty of dragons, or anything else for that matter.
Dreth looked at Percy. “Dragons eh?”
“What? Look, I swear I saw him…”
“Him?” Redthorne moved forward and squinted down the passage. “Who’s him’?”
The zombie looked uncomfortable, which wasn’t easy for a rotten walking corpse. “Someone.”
Dreth scratched his skull, which was itching. “Come on,” he said. “We’re wasting time.”
They moved onwards, Percy looking around nervously, but this part of the dungeon appeared to be abandoned.
“I told you, it’s closed for remodeling,” said Smudge when they asked her about it. “The last occupant, a kind of giant snake I think it was, was hacked apart by a group of adventurers some time ago. They simply haven’t got around to assigning someone new yet, that’s all.”
Dreth shrugged. “Fair enough,” he said. “I suppose we shouldn’t complain.”
“Hey,” said Percy from ahead. “There’s a room here.”
The others examined the chamber, which was bare except for a few old bones in the corner. “Perfect,” said Dreth. “We’ll rest up here a while. Or at least the still living will.”
Redthorne staggered over to a corner with Emerald. The two spread out their sleeping mats and collapsed into them. Percy put the Fearie down next to the wizard, making sure she was securely bound.
Sprat wandered into the room and poked at the bones.
“Any meat left?” asked Percy, shambling over and nudging a yellowing skull with his foot.