The Eye of Tanub

by M.E. Cunningham

  Say no more! We entered and were surrounded by hundreds of multicolored glowing vials, most of which had golden tags saying what each one was for.

  “Are these all magical?”

  Flitwicket nodded and smiled, watching me.

  It felt like Christmas morning as I fingered each one. Vitality. Strength. Cunning. Stamina. I held one up for courage and endurance. “When would you ever need these?” I asked with a chuckle. I couldn’t imagine needing potions unless I was on a modeling runway and didn’t want to pass out from fright!

  “In the battlegrounds, of course,” she said, setting a few bottles down on the counter. The proprietor came over and took her potions, dropping some gold coins into her hand.

  I wanted to buy something. Just as a keepsake. Just to remember. But I hadn’t brought any money with me. I’d thought I’d be doing yard work all day. How depressing. I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets, feeling a little sorry for myself, only to have my fingers ram into something cold, hard, and round. I pulled the objects out and just like Zach had done yesterday, found gold, silver, and copper coins in my palm.

  I slid my thumb along their smooth surfaces, marveling at the sight, full of wonder. How had they gotten there? I certainly hadn’t stolen them, like I’d suspected Zach of doing.

  “Is there something you’d like?” the proprietor asked me with a big, toothy grin.

  “Uh…” I had no idea what to pick. There were too many to choose from, and I didn’t really understand what they were for. I wished there was a fancy bottle of perfume I could have.

  “How about this one,” Flitwicket suggested, setting a glowing, pink bottle on the counter, its base rounded with a slender neck at the top. It only stood three inches tall, and the potion inside swirled as though it were alive. “It’s for Discipline.” She held it out to me reverently.

  “Discipline?” My expression fell. What a stupid potion. I didn’t need discipline unless I wanted it to help me not eat so much of the awesome food they had here. “Uh… that’s really cool, but I was thinking more along the lines of a beauty potion.”

  Flitwicket didn’t seem offended at all. She just cocked her head and gave me one of those amazing smiles that hypnotized everyone. “But Lauren. You don’t need a beauty potion. You are already one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”

  That was all it took. I was forever devoted to this woman. If I wasn’t loyal before, now I wanted to be her personal slave forever, but her comment, even though it was wonderful, embarrassed me. It wasn’t true. I knew it, and she certainly did too. I knew beautiful. I’d looked through so many modeling magazines that I knew beauty, and I may have had potential, but I didn’t look like any of those women yet, and might not… ever. But the love in Flitwicket’s eyes… well, I didn’t want to argue with her. If she wanted me to have discipline, I would.

  “Thank you,” I said, glancing down at the counter. I took some money from my pocket, and the proprietor counted out what it cost. I still had plenty of coins left to play with.

  “Let’s go,” Flitwicket said. “There are so many other places to go.”

  As we walked, I was amazed at the city’s beauty and cleanliness. Where were the poor, the ragged? I turned in a circle, taking in the grandeur of the buildings. “I’ve never been to a place like this.”

  Flitwicket gave me an indulging grin that radiated brighter than sunshine. “Tardania is commonly referred to as the City of Sunshine, because everything is bright and beautiful here. It’s my favorite of them all. There are other vast cities on Guild land, but this one… this one is special. At least to me.” Flitwicket smiled serenely as she floated over the cobblestones, and then turned to study my face. “Lauren, what are your interests, your talents?”

  I frowned, thinking. “Talents? Well, I like shopping and clothes. I like boys, makeup, and fashion. I want to be a model someday.” I don’t know why, but I felt embarrassed admitting this to her. It sounded so shallow, like all of my interests were centered only on outward beauty, and I was sure Flitwicket noticed it too. I felt like such a child here, so immature. At home, it was the complete opposite. I was queen. Here, I was definitely a peasant.

  “Everyone here chooses a profession or two,” Flitwicket began to explain. “If you like clothes, you could be a clothier, and you could make charms to put on them and also charms for weapons. It will make you powerful and would be a good way to earn money. Charms can protect you.”

  “From what?”

  “From death, of course. From injury.”

  “You mean from actually dying? Is that common?” I hadn’t really believed we would be here long enough to get killed. I knew Zach’s game included battles, fighting, and weapons, but it was all a game. Not real. He’d play with the same characters over and over. They never stayed dead. And a job? I wasn’t about to get a job here. I didn’t intend to stay that long, and it might sound selfish, but I didn’t want to work. My parents gave me money when I needed it. The only job I wanted was in the modeling world, with lots of other shallow women who wanted to look good all the time.

  Flitwicket nodded as though being killed were a common occurrence. “So, would you like to be a sorceress, or a priestess?” she asked. “They’re the ones who wear the most beautiful armor. They also make charms. I recommend being a priestess. We’re wonderful!” she said with a flourish and a wink.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the dryad’s enthusiasm. Of course, she’d want me to be a priestess like her, and since she knew what she was doing already, that would be the smart choice for me, if we were going to keep hanging out. I didn’t know any sorcerers at the moment. “Okay, I’ll be a priestess.” What I really wanted was beautiful clothes like Flitwicket’s, and to maybe to get my hair done like hers. I could be her Mini-Me!

  “Wonderful! Let’s go to my trainer.” Flitwicket took a deep breath, pondering, tapping her perfectly shaped pink lips with her long, tapered finger. Her nails were also perfectly manicured. How did she do it? I wanted her secrets so bad.

  As I followed the stately dryad, I marveled at the busy city, wondering if all these people were someone’s character or toon, as Zach would say. I also wondered if someone out there was playing the game right now and could see me. Wouldn’t that be crazy? Would Zach’s friends recognize me?

  We ended up in what Flitwicket called the sorcerer’s quarter, where flowers blossomed in all colors, ivy crept along the brick walls of shops, and golden paths wound their way through the tall pine trees. Flitwicket led me to an especially tall one, and began to climb.

  I stopped, my neck arching to see the top of the really, really tall tree. “Um… I think I’ll wait here.”

  Flitwicket turned around, her slender arm on the rail, and cocked her head, frowning. “You can’t be trained unless you go to the trainer.”

  Okay. So, I had this terrible fear of heights. It started when I was around five years old at an amusement park. I won’t go into detail, because it was ugly, but not since that time have I gone up high… anywhere. I don’t ride roller coasters, sky rides, and I certainly don’t climb tall trees. I like to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground. This path was too dang narrow and winding. “Well, maybe we should wait until later.”

  Flitwicket crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s the real problem, Lauren? Are you afraid?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Well, then. Let’s go.”

  With a sigh, I placed one foot in front of the other, one hand always on the rough bark. Each step took us higher into the towering pine, and I knew if I looked down I’d be sick, and that doesn’t ever make a good impression. Neither did passing out, which was also an option for me. It had happened before.

  Taking deep breaths, and keeping my eyes half closed, I made my way forward, one foot after the other. If I just kept going, I’d make it. But then I’d have to come back down. That thought was almost enough to stop me.

  I closed my eyes and held my stomach as we c
ame to the uppermost branches. A door with a rounded top stood open, and we entered. With a gasp of surprise, I gaped at the beautiful room. Golden tables held long, tapered wands, and crystal windows refracted rainbows on the walls. My fear of heights was instantly forgotten.

  A beautiful woman with tall, pointed ears waited at the back of the room, surrounded by other similarly dressed people. They wore long, colorful robes that floated feather light over their feet. They had light, luminescent skin, high cheekbones, and intricate hair designs that left me in awe. I felt drab and homely in comparison. They looked just like Flitwicket, except for the ears. I heard somebody call them Emerald Elves.

  An air of power filled the room. This was my element—beautiful people, beautiful clothes. I squared my shoulders, determined to look confident even if I didn’t feel it, and marched straight for the distinguished woman who was obviously in charge. “Hi there!” I said, using my friendliest voice. “I’m Lauren Marriott, and I’d like to be trained as a priestess.”

  The graceful woman turned, her silver eyes boring into mine, her mouth tight as she lifted her chin.

  Instantly, I realized I’d done it wrong. Again. Humiliation dotted my face as I felt the heat of shame rise up my neck, the blush marring my pale skin. When I realized I was biting my lip, I nearly died. In the modeling world, confidence and pride were both valued traits. I was learning that wasn’t the case here.

  Flitwicket hurried to the priestess. “Master,” she said, bowing, “please forgive the manners of this child. She’s new here and unaware of our customs.”

  Kill me now. I wanted to melt right into the floor and die. Never had I experienced anything so humiliating. Especially now that I knew what Flitwicket really thought of me.

  The woman acknowledged Flitwicket, and then turned to me. “I am Lorialai, head priestess in Tardania. Kindness and humility are the first qualities I look for in a new pupil. Qualities you seem to lack.”

  I flinched at the harsh words, trying to remember the last time I was kind or humble. I thought I’d learned those skills just in the last twelve hours of being here. Obviously not, though.

  “I do not think that being a priestess is right for you. You should look for something more fitting to your personality. Perhaps a warrior,” Lorialai said with sarcasm.

  I shrank at the trainer’s stern expression and cold eyes. I’d only been trying to seem confident and self-assured. How had my words backfired so badly? Why didn’t it work here? I glanced at Flitwicket and noticed the humility she showed in deference to her teacher. Knowing I needed to fix things fast, I stepped forward and bowed low. “I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude and offend you. Truly. I really want to be a priestess. Can I have another chance? Please?”

  Lorialai eyed me as she walked slowly back to her velvet chair. “Well, now. That’s better. You intrigue me… Lauren, is it?” Lorialai lowered herself slowly, her back straight. She studied me with an intense expression, and I felt myself wilting before her. “I will give you one chance, but you must prove yourself worthy. Bring me five rubies from the Singing Stream, and I will grant your wish to become a priestess.”

  I smiled in relief. You just needed to know how to win people over. You had to figure out what they wanted, and then dangle it in front of them. If this woman wanted a humble servant for a day, I could do that. I could do this silly little quest. How hard could it be?

  Flitwicket and I left the towering room and headed back down the tree’s golden path, with me practically hugging the trunk the whole way. When we were almost at the bottom, I glanced at Flitwicket and noticed her frowning.

  “What’s wrong, Flit?” I asked, floating with happiness that I was once again on hard ground. There was nothing better than the feeling of success, and I’d succeeded in making it down the tree alive, and in getting the trainer to give me another chance.

  Flitwicket glanced at me from the corner of her eye and shook her head. “Oh, Lauren. You’re in a bit of a bind.”

  I stopped and faced her, honestly surprised. “A bind? What do you mean?”

  She squeezed my shoulder and frowned. “You will see.”

  A whole day went by, where Flitwicket and I sightsaw around the city, going into all the cool shops, eating all sorts of magic, exotic food, and we saw no sign of Zach. Believe me, I kept my eye out for him, and we pretty much walked all of Tardania.

  I was starting to get worried.

  I spent another night alone at the inn; this time, not exhausted enough to drop asleep quickly. I lay there for a long time, watching beams of light from the moon move through my room. Every creak in the wood, every patron who walked past my door, scared me, and I cursed Zach for not being here with me, to explain it all.

  He was the one who knew this game, knew the streets, and knew the people. He knew names of proprietors and recognized characters of his own, and ones his friends had made. How dare he go off like this! An hour, maybe, but more than a day? He could be kidnapped. Dead! How would I ever know, and how would I get out of here? What if I never did? What if I was stuck here forever?

  The next morning, I rose from my feather bed, exhausted from all my worrying, and lumbered down the stairs, tired from lack of sleep. Today was the day. I would do my little quest for rubies. Stupid. I was so not in the mood, and thinking about Zach had made my mood just a little bit darker.

  It was harder to smile at Flitwicket, harder to care about the magic food that still worked and made my body feel awesome, harder to want to do a quest.

  When Flitwicket saw me come down the stairs, she motioned me over. “Lauren, I’d like you to meet Cardy. He’s a warrior who is willing to help us on your quest.”

  I turned to smile at the man and found him much shorter than a man usually is, with a bright-red beard that grew so long it covered his whole belly, which was round and full of magical food, I was sure.

  “Hi, Cardy. Nice to meet you.” I stuck my hand out, and he took it, cheerful and full of chuckles.

  He patted his tummy and said, “When’s breakfast?”

  It was hard not to like him. He looked just like a dwarf from Lord of the Rings. He probably was a dwarf, but without Zach here to explain things, how would I know? I could feel my temper rising again, so I took another bite of what the people around here called “good-mood food.” I wished it would help my mood.

  We ate slowly, and then went out to gather supplies. As we stood next to a rock wall, I noticed someone vaguely familiar walking toward us.

  “Zach?” I whispered in disbelief, mostly to myself.

  Flitwicket turned. “Where?”

  “There,” I said, pointing down the street. I was pretty sure it was him.

  Sure enough, he came, chomping on some of his own good-mood food, but it wasn’t the Zach I’d seen two days ago. This Zach was slender and had… no way… muscles. He looked so different, so good, and taller if that was possible. Plus, he looked happy. Almost smug, and he carried a leather pack he hadn’t had before. He still wore his jeans and T-shirt, but they hung on his lean physique now, looking ten sizes too big.

  I couldn’t help but scowl as he approached, my fury barely contained. He’d been off having fun… obviously, and I’d been stuck here. “Where have you been? Do you think you can just run off and leave me alone in a place like this? You’ve been gone for a day and a half! A day and a half!”

  Zach turned to Flitwicket, completely ignoring me, and began eating his third pastry. “Morning, Flit. Sleep well?”

  “I did, Zach, Thank you. I’d like you to meet Cardy, a friend of mine. He’s a warrior and—” She stopped, hesitating. “What happened to you? You look so different, and I sense a new and unusual energy.” Flitwicket’s eyes narrowed as she studied him.

  “You do? Really? That is so cool.” He stood tall and proud. I wanted to smack him.

  I eyed Zach, studying his new appearance up close. “You do look different. What did you do?”

  “I trained as a maverick!”
he said, laughing. “That’s why I didn’t come back yesterday. It knocked me unconscious.” He turned to the halfling and stuck out his hand. Cardy only came to his shoulder, but his smile was warm, and his eyes twinkled blue.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Cardy. I’m Zach.”

  “It’s a pleasure, young man. A pleasure.” Cardy bobbed his head and patted the steel sword at his side. It seemed way too long for someone so small.

  “So, Zach, you passed out?” Flitwicket mused. “That doesn’t surprise me. A usual reaction for someone your age. Most people aren’t allowed to train for the different areas of expertise until they’re older.”

  “Yeah, I know, but Rokonok, my new trainer, was really cool about it.”

  “Hello? I’m still standing here,” I said, two inches from Zach’s face. “Are you just going to ignore me?”

  “Hey, Lauren.” Zach answered finally. “How’d you sleep? Good?”

  “No, I did not. I need to train as a priestess—which Flitwicket says I should do if I want to survive here—but first I have to do some stupid quest for rubies, and we didn’t even know if you were going to come back and help.” I turned away, crossing my arms with a perfect little scowl on my face. “Apparently, the trainer didn’t like my attitude and is punishing me.”

  Zach turned to Flitwicket in surprise. “You don’t mean the Singing Stream rubies, do you?”

  “Yes, new maverick. We went to the trainer yesterday, but she won’t train Lauren until she proves herself worthy by retrieving five rubies.” The dryad shook her head. “It did not go well. Lauren is lucky to even have this chance.”

  The humiliation was still too raw to laugh about, and especially in front of Zach, because like I said before, he didn’t used to like me, and thought I was a snob. And maybe I was, but back to the story.

  “Yeah. I’m so lucky,” I said with a bit of a pout. “I don’t even want to be here. I wish we could go home now.” I could picture my mom at the counter, making breakfast again. It would be Monday morning, so it would be crêpes, with strawberries, peaches, and whipped cream. Our parents must we worried sick!

  “How can Lauren do this without training? It’s a super-hard quest.” He looked genuinely worried, which worried me even more. He knew his game. He knew this quest. He knew what we were in for.