The man knelt over me with a knife. “I think I’ll have some fun first.” He held the point close to my eye.
I blinked, my brain cloudy and unresponsive. The foul stench of his breath wafted over me, and I turned my head to escape the stench. He grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. I cried out in despair, the pain too intense to even fight back. Where was Dardanos? Where was Zach? Anyone? Couldn’t they see what was happening? Didn’t they care? A sob escaped my bleeding lips, and the man slapped me hard across the face.
“Don’t close your eyes, girl, or you’ll miss the whole thing,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear. And then suddenly the weight of his body, smashing painfully into my ribs, was gone.
I rolled to my side, not sure what I was seeing, and hurting too much to care. Trilly, Kirth’s jumbo spider, had the man’s neck in its giant black pincers, and was bringing the bandit’s head into its gaping mouth. The man kicked and screamed, trying to free himself. Crushers burst from Trilly’s maw and mashed the man’s head, killing him before Kirth could assist.
Good giant spider, I thought, dumbly, pressing my hand to my throbbing jaw. I tried to sit up against the uneven wall to search the room. Zach fought a small man, no bigger than him. I watched in amazement as his short swords slashed and stabbed, cutting the man’s clothes bit by bit.
Zach was toying with him, I realized. He didn’t even seem scared or unsure. He jabbed, ducked, and then rolled between the man’s legs, leaping over his enemy’s head in a flip. Where did he learn that?
Rufio escaped Kirth’s arrows and hurried to the room’s entrance, screaming in frustration, most of his men dead. He stood alone. “This isn’t over, Kirth. I know who you are. I’ll find you, and when I do, you’re a dead man!” He ran from the room.
“Let him go,” Kirth called, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Dardanos lay against the wall, spent, but alive. He’d fought like a madman. Flitwicket knelt down next to me as tears dripped slowly down my bruised and bleeding cheeks. I didn’t bother to wipe them away.
“What happened?” Flitwicket asked, pressing her cool fingers to my jaw.
“I don’t know. All of a sudden, nothing worked. Not my spells, not my shield, not my wand.”
“Ah. Yes. I should have told you that as a new priestess, your reserves can be depleted quickly. It takes time, practice, and training to build up the stamina you need to sustain yourself in a long battle.” She pressed a magic bandage to my cheek, and immediately the bleeding stopped and the pain ebbed to a dull throb. “Hold that there for a few minutes.”
“I wish I would have known that before,” I mumbled. It was hard not to be angry when this tidbit of information had almost cost me my life.
Flitwicket gazed into my eyes, seeming to understand my frustration. “I’m sorry. I forget what it used to be like. It’s been a very long time since I was a new priestess, and I seldom exhaust my reserves anymore.” Flitwicket finished with me, then made her way over to Dardanos, administering to his cuts and bruises. Zach and Kirth followed, watching as she bandaged the giant warrior.
I sat across the room alone, and turned toward the wall. Tears fell now that the skirmish was over and I was safe… supposedly. Reality was hitting, and I clung to the cold stone, burying my fear and helplessness there. I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t deal with massacre, blood, and threats. This wasn’t normal. These people weren’t normal. This wasn’t the real world, and more than anything, I wanted to be back with my mother, her cool hands soothing my broken body. I wanted to be in my own bed, truly safe. And here, I wasn’t safe. The cold rock felt wonderful against my sweating face, and then I felt a hand press my shoulder.
I turned to see Dardanos. He gazed into my tear-filled eyes, his concern evident. “Are you all right?” he asked gently, his expression full of ache. There were no words to say at that moment, so instead, I just rested my hand on his chest.
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.” He shook his head, his eyes downcast.
“Oh… that’s okay. Kirth’s spider saved me.”
“I’m glad you’re all right. I’ll never let that happen again,” he said trying to see through my wall of hair.
Whirling, I faced him. “What’s that supposed to mean? You won’t let a battle happen again? You won’t let my energy disappear again? You won’t let the spider save the day?” My frustration spilled out in waves, the fear and anger barreling forward like a rabid animal. I turned away, not wanting to meet his eyes.
“What?” He pulled back in surprise.
“You should have been there for me! You should have saved me! That man had a knife and dragged me to the wall and—” I couldn’t finish, for my shoulders heaved with sobs as I buried my face in my hands.
Flitwicket stepped forward, wrapping her arms around me. She stroked my hair and whispered into my ear, just like my mother would have, and my heart ached even more. I turned to her, burying my face in her robes, clinging to her as though I was a child, and we were the last two people on Earth. After a time, she lifted me, keeping her arms around me tight, and led me from the room.
“We’d better get out of here before the Rufios come back,” she said.
A small light glowed at the end of the tunnel, its reflection dancing off the rainbow walls ahead of us. A tiny, tufted-eared man appeared, carrying a torch in his childlike hands. “You called?” He smiled with mischief.
“Giddel! You came! We need your help,” Zach said, hurrying us along. “We were attacked by Rufios!”
“Yes, I know all about that. We watch these halls, you know. Terrible people, those Rufios.”
“Can you lead us out?” Zack begged, glancing over his shoulder.
Giddel strained to see all of us, and we stared right back. This was a rare and magical experience, and we were all caught up in the moment.
“I could, but only for a price. I’m sorry, but that’s the rule. I would do if for free just to visit with you,” he said to Zach, “but the other tunnelers would be upset. I have to be paid.”
“We can pay you,” Dardanos said from behind.
“Good. Then it’s a deal. Come this way and hurry. My friends will lead the Rufios astray. Even those ruffians get lost in here sometimes.”
“Thanks, Giddel!” We followed the tunneler through the maze with only his dim torch to light the way. We wound around and around until I was sure we were lost and going in circles. My head ached, and my jaw was still swollen, and the only thing I wanted to do was lie down and rest.
I glanced back at Kirth to find him walking backwards, guarding our rear. Never once did he look over his shoulder to see where he was going, nor did he stumble. I wanted to ask the little pixie what other talents he was hiding, but I was too tired and heartbroken.
After four hours of hiking through the narrow tunnels, a light grew ahead. “This is the Land of Perils,” Giddel announced. “Best of luck to you all.”
“Thanks for your help. Your deed will not be forgotten.” Dardanos tossed the little man a small bag of gold.
Giddel hefted the bag, testing its weight. “This will do fine.” He looked to Zach and nodded. “If you ever come this way again, don’t hesitate to call. I’ll always be available to give assistance.” He bowed to Kirth as though he were royalty, which he was, then to Zach. “It was a pleasure.”
Zach ducked his head in embarrassment. “Sure thing, Giddel. You can always count on me, too.”
With a smile, Giddel turned, disappearing back into the cave.
Goodbye, Mama.” Kalika wrapped her arms around her mother’s frail body, promising to come back as soon as she could. It was time to rejoin her battalion.
As she jogged along the dirt road toward her outpost, she thought back to her recent nightmare. The bad dreams had started long ago in her youth, but had become more vivid and graphic. A cold chill crept up her back as she allowed the dream to blossom in her mind.
A dark, acidic mist rose from the water, swirling, bubbling, foaming. Cries of agony filled her ears as the mist reached her village. It coated everyone’s skin, causing it to bubble and melt. Nothing could stop the mist, or destroy it. She watched as her family and home disintegrated into ash. Her mother’s bones lay upon the ground, bleached white. A gigantic man, clad in steel armor moved toward her from the mist, his eyes glowing red. He reached for her, his hands grasping, and then… and then she found herself shivering on the edge of the dirt path.
She pulled herself up, clammy with sweat, breathing hard. Fear still hovered as she rose to her feet and stumbled forward. Leaning against a tree, she wiped her brow and wondered at the power of her dream. Panting, she shuffled along, too drained to jog.
The dense forest pressed itself over her—the trees of her homeland seeming sinister instead of safe. She hurried along as the sky darkened, and she smelled a rainstorm building in the distance. After a few hours on the worn path, a familiar friend fell in beside her. Kalika picked up her pace to match his.
“Hello, Kalika. Lovely day for a run,” the fellow soldier joked.
“Hi, Junto. Good to see you again. Have a nice rest with your family?”
“Yes, thank you.” Kalika eyed the higher-ranking werewolf, his leather armor identical to hers, except his had coarse, dark hair poking out of the seams. His bright eyes gleamed in the afternoon sun, his sharp claws bouncing.
“My brother is dead,” she said after a moment, her face showing no emotion.
“I too have lost family.”
She knew he had, including his own son. How had he survived such an ordeal? She didn’t know if she could. Her brother’s death was almost unbearable, his beautiful smile snuffed out. Her heart seemed to ache from sunrise to sunset. She turned to her friend. “Junto, why do you fight this war?”
“Because I have to, to bring honor to my people, and because it is in my blood.” He glanced at her from the corner of his dark eyes.
“But do you think it’s a just fight?” she asked.
Junto paused before answering. “If I refuse to do my job, what will happen to my family? Do I wish for death? No. But I do love the fight. I relish pitting my strength against my enemy. Do I like to cause pain? No. But pain is over quickly, and I am a merciful opponent. Do we need Guild land? No. But I fight for the same reasons you do, Kalika. To live without fear.”
They continued at a brisk pace, Kalika taking deep breaths and thinking carefully before she asked her next question. “Do you think the Warlord has become greedy?”
“Careful, Kalika. This sounds like treason, and I don’t want to be the one to dole out punishments. If you have these thoughts, I sympathize. It’s not unusual to feel this way after losing a loved one, but I cannot be party to it.”
“I’m sorry, Junto. It’s just that my heart aches, and I wish to be free of it.”
“Then lose yourself in battle, in blood lust. It will take away your pain.”
Kalika didn’t want to lose herself in blood lust. It dulled the pain for only a moment. She wanted to live in peace, to enjoy her home and family, and not worry that someone—the Warlord—could take it away.
The Land of Perils was one of my favorite places to quest. It was Legion land, and there were plenty of ogres, werewolves, and drows to kill. I was sure the drow who’d taken my pendant lived close by.
Getting through the forest would be the tricky part. As part of the Guild, we would shine like beacons and be easily spotted. It would take stealth and cunning to avoid detection. But that’s what I’d trained for. My body no longer hindered me or held me back, and I was as hard and strong as anyone on my home football team.
The five of us huddled under the trees, whispering quietly at the edge of the forest. “I have a potion that will turn one of us into a drow,” Flitwicket said. “If will work for one hour and one hour only.” She held it out for all to see. The flask sparkled like crystal in the evening sun.
“Who should go?” I asked, looking around our bedraggled group.
“You,” Kirth said. He leaned against his bow, a mischievous grin on his face.
“Me?” I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. “But I have no experience. It would be a suicide mission.” If I were playing the game, it wouldn’t be a problem. I could do it easily, and if my toon died, who cared? It would resurrect. But this was real. What if I died in that village? I would stay dead.
Flitwicket handed me the vial. “You’ve been trained. It’s all inside you. Wait to drink it until we’re closer.”
Hesitantly, I took the potion, my hands shaking. It felt like poison and sat like a time bomb in my pocket. As night approached, the rock in the pit of my stomach grew. We weren’t far from the first drow village. I would have to ask questions about a girl I didn’t know. Would my disguise hold? Would I accidentally reveal myself? What should I say if I found her? Can I have my pendant back? Pretty please? What if she tried to kill me?
When it was time, I uncorked the vial and gazed at the swirling potion, afraid, but as I looked into each of my friend’s faces, I knew I had to do this. They were depending on me, risking their lives for me.
Lifting the cold glass to my lips, I drank the nasty concoction. A burning sensation shot down my throat, to my fingers and toes. Even my scalp burned. Every hair on my body stood straight and screamed in protest. I fell to the ground, writhing in agony.
“Oh my gosh!” Lauren exclaimed in surprise. “Look at you!”
Right before their eyes, I metamorphosed. My body lengthened, and my hair and skin darkened. My shoulders stretched, broadening, and my ears grew into tight little points. I groaned in misery, my bones cracking and reshaping to look like a drow. I rolled to my side, gasping for breath. I was dying! There was no other way to describe it. Flitwicket had poisoned me!
“He… he looks like a… it worked!” Lauren whispered, her hand covering her mouth.
Finally, I lay still, the pain subsiding. Remarkably, I was still alive. Panting with effort, I pulled myself to my feet, examining my hands. “Oh man, that hurt so bad. I’ll never do that again.”
“You’re so ugly.” Lauren said, stifling a giggle. “Even more than usual.”
“You’re one to talk.” I stretched out my arms, no longer in pain. I admired my thick muscles and dark skin. “I look awesome!”
“Yes, Mr. Awesome. And you only have an hour,” Flitwicket reminded me as she adjusted my armor. She rested her hand on my shoulder in a motherly gesture. “Do you have your weapons?”
“Yes.”
“Good, then go!”
Just as I was about to leave, Lauren threw her arms around me. In shock, I stood there my arms hanging at my sides. I wasn’t used to this newfound affection we had for one another, but this really could be the last time I saw her, and as soon as I realized that, I quickly recovered and gave her a tight hug back.
“Be careful, okay? I want to see my bratty, little brother again. Plus, you can’t leave me in this place alone,” she whispered in my ear.
“Don’t worry. I’ve done quests like this millions of times,” I said with fake confidence, pulling away. I jogged down the dirt path, turning around once to wave, and then streaked into the night with super human speed and the wind whipping past my face.
Soon, the little village appeared, the many huts scattered through the trees. I slowed and hid behind a wide pine, peeking into the rustic settlement. A sudden thought stopped my heart. I didn’t know the drow language! I hadn’t understood one thing the girl had said before she killed me. Immediately, sweat began dripping down my sides, tickling my skin. The first words from my mouth would condemn me.
I waited, afraid, but knew I had to hurry or my spell would wear off. It was almost full dark, and the call of playing children had died down. I was missing my chance, and still I hid there, panicked at the thought of failure! Taking a deep breath, I stepped out. Only a few drows wandered the path, and I spied a
boy who seemed about my age.
“Hi!” I said, hoping he would understand me.
The youth stopped and stared, a small white ball bouncing near his feet. A knot formed in my throat, and I could hardly swallow as I wiped the sweat from my forehead.
“Hi,” the boy said finally.
I almost fell to his knees, crying in relief. “I’m looking for a woman, a maverick. I have an important message for her, but I don’t know her name. She has long dark hair and is about as tall as I am.”
The boy shrugged. “Most drow women have long, dark hair and are as tall as you. I don’t know if any are mavericks though,” he said, walking away.
Stumped, I turned to look for someone else. An elderly drow sat outside a small hut rocking in a chair. I hurried over to him and repeated my tale.
“Yes, I know who you look for. She’s the only woman in our village who chose to be a soldier. What do you want with her?”
I couldn’t tell him the truth, and I’d told so many lies that one more couldn’t possibly make any difference. I was already in too deep. “I have a message for her,” I said with urgency, figuring it was close to the truth.
The old man studied me, his eyelids loose and hanging over his dark, slitted eyes. “Hmm. Well, you have an honest enough face. Her name is Kalika. Her hut is in the trees that way,” he pointed.
“Thank you!” I turned and ran down the dirt path.
“But she’s not there!” the man called.
I stopped and looked back. “She’s not? Where is she?”
“Gone to battle. Her mother’s there though.”
“Oh. Okay, thanks.” Crestfallen, I went to meet Kalika’s mother. Her home was small and at the base of a large tree. A beautifully crafted narrow path wound its way up to a loft at the top. I knocked on the front door, and an elderly woman answered, her face lined with age. In confusion, she peered at the strange man standing before her.
“Hello. Uh, I’m… uh, here for Kalika. I’m a friend.”
“Kalika is gone,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. “And likely never to return.” A sob erupted from the woman’s mouth as she closed the door.
I blocked it with the toe of my boot. “Um, I have a strange question. Did she by chance have a medallion with a red stone?” There could be other drow mavericks. What were the odds he’d found the right girl so fast?