“I’m not sure,” he said, still pouting. “On my game, you can do hundreds of quests in these mountain tunnels. I’ve never gone straight through with a character.”
I asked Dardanos instead.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “It’s my first time.” In the dark, his cheeks appeared hollow, his hulking frame fierce and dangerous.
I shivered. “Your first time? I thought you’d done this before.”
“No, but I’ve—ahh!” Dardanos howled, falling against me and knocking me to the ground. His arms were spread wide, his back arched. I noticed a thin, wiry man standing behind Dardanos, a bloody spear in his hands, a yellow bandanna wrapped around his gaunt face showing only slitted, dark eyes. He danced on the balls of his feet, ready to strike again.
I scrambled out from under Dardanos’s mammoth body as he rolled to his back. He pulled out his sword, but was unable to stand. I stood behind him, next in line to be skewered. The narrow corridor kept the rest of our group blocked, unable to help.
The man advanced, unafraid.
I reached for my knife, my hands shaking as I grasped the intricately carved hilt. Its blade glowed with ethereal light when I held it out, ready to defend the small band behind me.
“Let me through!” Kirth yelled, pushing from behind. Pushing me toward the attacker.
The man jabbed.
I pulled back just in time, barely missed by the jagged point of his spear. Dardanos rose, panting with effort. The bandit jabbed at him, but Dardanos lifted his sword to parry the thrust. He groaned in agony, and then let his arm fall.
The bandit smiled and jumped forward, thrusting at Dardanos again. But Dardanos kicked the bandit’s feet out from under him, and just as the he fell, a bolt of electricity exploded over our heads. I turned to see Flitwicket trying to aim. Dardanos sagged against the wall.
“Dardanos!” I screamed, reaching for him, but I didn’t have time to check his injury, let alone heal him. The whistle of an arrow seized my attention as it thunked harmlessly against the rock wall, then rattled to the floor.
Kirth cursed in frustration, his foul words echoing down the stone corridor. My heart tightened with fear—for all of us, but mostly for myself, because I didn’t know how to fight, and because I was next in line to be knifed.
The man inched forward, snarling. He lunged at me, his spear slicing a hole in the sleeve of my new silver robe. I stopped abruptly, staring at the cut. Raising my eyes, I glared at my attacker. “What the…?”
“Uh oh. Now she’s mad,” Zach said, “Lauren hates it when people ruin her clothes. I’ve seen if firsthand.”
And these were my magic clothes. I shoved the knife into my belt, and pulled out my new wand. “You picked the wrong girl to torment today,” I whispered, because Zach was right. I thought of my new robes as precious, and who knew if I’d be able to buy more? Would they work as well now that they were damaged? I felt like swearing as I held my arm out straight, my wand vibrating with power. A bolt of blue electricity burst from the tip, throwing me back against Flitwicket.
We fell in a heap, everyone knocked over like bowling pins. When I looked up, the bandit lay still, unmoving—smoke tendrils swirling from the blackened hole in his chest, his lifeless eyes staring at the rock ceiling.
“What happened? Let me up!” Kirth yelled from the back of the corridor.
Everyone’s voices buzzed in my ears, but it was my own I kept hearing over and over like a broken record playing. “I killed him!” I fell to my knees at the man’s side, my hands fluttering in the air. “I killed him!” I screamed again, reaching out to pull off his yellow bandanna.
He was only a boy. Probably about my age, his skin supple and unmarred by a growing beard. I stared, unprepared for the terrible feeling that consumed me, and I wondered if I would have to do this again—kill someone—before this quest was over. The boy’s eyes closed easily under my fingertips.
“You did the right thing, Lauren,” Kirth said from behind. “His next stab could have killed you or Dardanos.”
“I know. Will he resurrect?” I asked. “People do that here.”
“That only happens in the battlegrounds,” Kirth answered sadly. “He will remain dead.”
“A mother somewhere will cry for him tonight,” I whispered. “And she’ll hate the one who took a piece of her heart.” I couldn’t shake the feeling of deep regret that grew inside me. It was one thing to kill in the battlegrounds, knowing that person would resurrect, but another thing entirely to take a life and have it be permanent.
Zach knelt by my side and placed a hand on my shoulder as Flitwicket examined Dardanos’s injured back. He lay on his belly, grimacing with each prod of her fingers. “It’s bad,” she said. “And deep. I think it pierced your kidney. No wonder you couldn’t move,” she said to him. “You’re bleeding out.”
“What do we do?” I rushed to Dardanos’s side, inspecting the ugly wound.
“We heal him, of course. You do it, Lauren. Your new wand is more powerful. Hurry!” Flitwicket commanded.
I held my wand over the seeping wound, my hand shaking, knowing that if I did it wrong, he could die.
“Hurry! Just point!” Flitwicket demanded. “And think, heal wound!”
I took a deep breath and did as I was told. A smooth, blue light dripped like honey from my wand, into the hole in Dardanos’s back. It spread, sealing the injury. I’d done this before in the battlegrounds, but I was way more nervous this time, because Dardanos wouldn’t come back if he died, and I wasn’t ready for him to leave me just yet. When I finished, I sat back on my heels, sweating and out of breath.
Flitwicket patted my back. “That was an interesting spell that came out. I’ve never seen that particular energy used for healing.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised. “Did I do it wrong?”
“No. You did it magnificently. Perfectly.” Flitwicket smiled with radiance. It was like the sun had come out.
Zach moved behind me, and leaned over to get a better look. “Wow, Lauren. Lucky you can do that.”
I blushed, having everyone watching me, and said, “Well, if I couldn’t have, Flitwicket could.” I moved to stand, but Dardanos caught my wrist, and grimaced in pain. “Thank you, Lauren. I owe you my life.” He pulled me closer. Our eyes met and held, and my breath caught in my throat. I blushed and looked away.
“Hurry,” Kirth whispered as he searched the closest tunnel. “There are probably more. There’s another cavern not too far from here where we can rest.”
Glistening perspiration appeared on Dardanos’s pale face, but at least he was alive. Flitwicket held him around the waist on one side, and Zach held him on the other. It was a tight squeeze through the narrow corridor, and we had to turn to walk sideways, but we made it to the next cavern quickly.
Once inside, Flitwicket and Zach collapsed in exhaustion. They leaned Dardanos against a swirling wall where he slid to his knees, unable to support his own weight. I crouched next to him, testing the temperature of his skin, my fingers brushing across his burning cheek. “Are you okay?”
His eyes pinched shut and his pale lips thinned. “Something’s not right. I… feel—” He fell to his side, losing consciousness, his head banging on the floor with a thunk.
“Flitwicket!” I screamed in dread. “What’s wrong?”
The priestess bent down to examine the inflamed wound with nimble fingers. “Oh no. I’ll bet that spear tip was poisoned. I should have told you to think of that as you cast your spell.”
“What do we do?” My voice rose in panic. Dardanos’s breathing slowed markedly as we watched.
“We have to open him back up! Quickly!” Flitwicket yelled. “Kirth!”
Kirth hurried to Flitwicket’s side, his eyes widening at the swollen, infected wound.
“Your knife is the sharpest. Make a thin slice right here.” Flitwicket drew a line with her finger. “And one here. I’m glad I brought my herbs to make a poultice. Hopeful
ly, it will draw out the poison.”
“Hopefully? Hopefully, they’ll work?” I shrieked, rubbing my hands over my face.
Flitwicket ignored me and went to work. The first slice revealed thick, yellow puss that spilled from the cut as it opened. A rancid odor filled the room, and I almost gagged at the sight, having to turn away.
“How can there be an infection if we already healed him?” Zach asked, probably thinking I’d failed or at least screwed everything up.
“Lauren used a spell that sealed the skin and stopped the bleeding, but didn’t dispel the poison.” Flitwicket concentrated on her work, cleaning the wound with a strange, spoon-like instrument.
Kirth hurried to build a small fire, which crackled happily, as though completely unaware of our dire situation. Flitwicket placed a small, porcelain bowl over the flames, and then added her ingredients.
“How long will it take?” I asked, pacing nervously.
“I don’t know,” she answered, focusing on her measurements. After what seemed like an eternity, she spread the poultice into Dardanos’s wound. He groaned in his sleep, his body sweating profusely, even though he was as pale as death.
Dardanos awoke groaning, and rolled to his side. I hurried over, the flames making my flaxen hair glow red in the soft light. It looked very cool as I bent over Dardanos, trying to straighten his pillow and blanket. He reached for my hair that cascaded over my shoulders like a spectral veil. Yeah, I have a tendency toward the dramatic, but whatever.
Dardanos shifted positions and gasped. “My insides burn like fire!”
Flitwicket knelt at his side. “I made a poultice and reopened the wound. I think the spear tip was poisoned.”
“That explains it,” he moaned, tears of pain forming at the edges of his eyes.
“I made some tea for the pain.” She handed him a small cup. He took the elixir and pressed it to his lips, and his face relaxed as the medicine took effect. He fell back and closed his eyes, spent.
I gazed down at him, the knot in my heart constricting as though my own life were in peril, which technically, maybe it was, but I couldn’t lose Dardanos now. I reached out and covered his hand with mine. “You’re gonna to be okay, Dan.”
“Dan?” he rasped.
“It’s shorter,” I said, embarrassed, glancing at the others.
“I like it. Dan. Yes, that’s fine.”
As I sat there, a silly grin lighted on his face. I’d never seen him so relaxed, and he began to breathe deeper. “It’s all right, little bird. Everything’s fine,” he slurred, trying to lift his hand to my face. “So beautiful.”
“I think you should quit talking before you embarrass yourself,” I whispered, glancing again toward the others.
“I’m not embarrassed,” he said with a flourish. “I am secure in my manhood. It’s what makes me… wonderful.”
Good grief. “Yeah, just wonderful. I think I’ll let you go to sleep now, and hopefully, you won’t remember this conversation.” I tucked the blanket around him, wishing I could smooth my fingers over his lips, like he’d done to me, or kiss his closed eyes. I’d read about that in some romance novel and was dying to try it right now, but no way would I do anything like that in front of everyone, especially with Dardanos getting high. I moved to stand, but he grabbed my arm forcefully, pulling me close.
“I will never forget it.” He held me close pulling me down until our faces were only inches apart. I could smell something minty on his breath. He puckered his lips, and just as his mouth was about to graze mine… he passed out. His hands relaxed and dropped to the floor, and I fell against his chest. I can’t even tell you what that was like. His hard muscles right beneath my fingers.
I turned to see everyone staring. “Um, it was just the drugs,” I said, hiding my face behind my hair.
“And I’m sure you hated every minute of it,” Zach said, annoyed.
Hours later, Zach shook my shoulder. “Wake up,” he whispered. “It’s time to go.”
I had fallen asleep against the rock wall, and my neck ached from being in an uncomfortable position for too long. “What time is it?”
“I have no idea, but Kirth wants to get going,” Zach answered.
“What about Dardanos?” I looked for his prone figure on the other side of the campfire.
“How should I know? Flitwicket is with him.”
I scowled, because he didn’t have to be so grumpy first thing in the morning, but I pulled myself up, and wandered over to Dardanos, who seemed to be doing okay, if not achy and tired. It wasn’t long before we had picked up our things to go. I helped Dardanos up, mainly just to be near him, but he seemed completely recovered. I couldn’t believe how fast the magic worked, healing injuries so quickly.
Before we could leave the cavern, we heard the pounding of many feet from the luminescent tunnel. A horde of black-clad men, all wearing yellow bandannas, came running into the cavern.
We froze where we stood.
“Leaving so soon?” a man asked, his sword aimed at Dardanos’s chest.
Dardanos stood straight and tall, appearing completely uninjured. “Yes,” he said with power. “Sorry we can’t stay.”
“You’ll stay,” the man said, his skin milky white. He inched his way forward. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rufio.” He gave a formal bow, his large teeth reflecting in the torch light. Dark hair grew sparsely over his balding head.
“I didn’t know you were still alive,” Kirth said, advancing with a raised bow. His eyes narrowed, and a frown creased his brow. I had never seen him look so intense.
The bandit smiled, his wide grin appearing more evil than friendly. “Oh, yes. Alive and well, and leading my men to riches.”
“We have no riches, as you can see,” Kirth replied, his lips touching his aimed bowstring, his small body rigid and ready. He didn’t seem the least bit afraid.
“No matter. We’ll keep you instead.” Rufio thrust forward with his gleaming sword. Kirth vaulted into the air, flipping in a somersault, landing behind Rufio, his bow held lightly in his nimble fingers. With reflexes faster than anyone could see, Kirth elbowed Rufio in the back, and the bandit fell, his nose smashing into the rock floor, blood spurting in all directions. Kirth did another flip and landed back in his original spot.
Rufio, obviously dizzy with pain, gazed up in confusion. He wiped the steady stream of fluid from his mouth and chin. “That was a mistake.” His mouth twisted, and his eyes shot daggers at Kirth. “I’d thought to offer mercy, making your deaths quick, but now, I think I’ll take it slow.”
Kirth laughed, motioning the big man forward. “Come to Papa.”
With a howl of rage, Rufio bellowed, “Attack!”
A swarm of twenty yellow-masked men surged forward. Zach met the attack with his short swords. His only real experience fighting had been in the battlegrounds, and that had been a disaster.
The bandit approached him, a dagger held in each hand. Gray hair speckled his beefy arms, and I knew Zach was about to fight an older, more experienced man… just like the girl who stole his pendant.
With a deep breath, Zach brought his small swords up. He didn’t dance around. He didn’t swing his weapons. He didn’t try to look or act better than he was. He just stood there watching the bandit. Like a tiny David battling Goliath. He let the man think he’d be an easy kill, and when he was close enough, Zach whirled in a tight circle, letting the momentum of his swords do all the work.
I was so proud of him!
His blades bit deep, slicing the man’s jugular with only one swipe. Zach stopped, panting, and watched the bandit fall like a felled tree, his eyes wide and staring in surprise. A swarm of yellow-masked men advanced forward.
I touched my forehead and thought, “Shield.” A prickly, warm sensation covered my body as rays of light surrounded me, protecting me from harm. I raised my wand, that now-familiar energy coursing down my arm, filling my hand. Power shot from my wand, blasti
ng a hole through the man in front of me. He flew back ten feet and lay still. I aimed again, blasting away, while keeping an eye on my battling friends.
I stood back, wishing I could run and hide until it was all over, but I knew that wasn’t an option. These men would not resurrect, and we wouldn’t either, so we had to fight our opponents ferociously, refusing to be the ones who died.
I worried about Dardanos, who favored his injury. I tried to work my way over to him. He fought two men at once, raising his sword over and over with untiring strength. Aiming carefully, I shot a spell at the man closest to me. He fell to one knee, but did not die. Instead, he turned toward me, his black eyes locking with mine.
Dardanos glanced in my direction, but he couldn’t come to my aid. The bandit’s long, blond hair, which hung in heavy clumps, covered his face, his bandana loose and gathered under his chin.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a pretty priestess,” he said, moving forward.
“You don’t get out much,” I answered, my wand aimed and ready. I concentrated, willing the power to fly, but my wand wouldn’t shoot. I focused harder while trying to keep an eye on the advancing man. Nothing happened. In desperation, I focused on that spot in my chest where the power always radiated, willing it to stream into the wand, but nothing happened. I was empty, weak, and out of energy.
The man lunged, grabbing my arm. My shield had disappeared, and I hadn’t even noticed! Quickly, I touched my forehead, thinking, “Shield.” But once again, nothing.
“You’ve depleted yourself, silly girl. Have you learned nothing about power and magic?” He pushed me into a shaded corner away from the others.
“Let go!” I screamed, scratching at his hands with my fingernails, and raking his face from hairline to chin. He screamed in pain, but never let go. Balling his fist, he punched me hard in the jaw, and then grabbed me with both hands, throwing me to the hard-packed ground.
Never had I been treated this way. Never had I been beaten up. Not even by my brother, and we’d been in some doozies. I couldn’t even think; my jaw hurt so bad that I thought it was broken. My whole body ached, and I could hardly breathe, let alone get up and fight. Dizzy with pain, I managed to open my eyes.