“Yeah, me too.”
“You did well, Zach. You pulled those people out, and saved some I missed.”
“Yeah.”
She stood back up. “I think you should go to Stonehammer Inn. It’s been a while since you’ve slept, hasn’t it?”
“A couple a days, I guess.” I stared ahead, tired and numb.
“Right. Go then. I’ll meet you there. Take Lauren.” She leaned over and offered her hand to help me up.
I took it and pulled myself up. “Where’s Kirth?” I asked, rubbing my forehead.
“Burying the dead.” Flitwicket shrugged off her pack and left it on the grass at her feet.
Like a bubbling cauldron, a well of anger grew inside me. I wanted to hurt the Legion, hurt the Warlord. I wanted to cause him so much pain that he would never forget the name of Zachary Jon Marriott. He was the one responsible for this. How could anyone be so greedy? So evil? Why did he have to keep sending his armies out to destroy and kill?
Forgetting all about taking Lauren with me, I stormed through the streets, my hands in fists, my teeth grinding, and my fury mounting with each step. I turned a corner and noticed movement down a shaded alley, the outline of a woman lying against the wall. Was she hiding? Wounded? Dead?
I crept close and noticed she held the dead body of another, but it wasn’t until I stood over them that I noticed their dark skin. I stumbled back in horror, reaching for my sword and tripping in the process.
Drows!
Once I regained my balance, my steps were slow, calculated, and a snarl of hatred formed on my lips as I prepared to kill the woman. I raised my sword, holding it steady, ready to strike. Everything inside shouted for me to do it—to end her miserable, evil life. But I stopped, noticing tears streaking down her cheeks.
She glanced up at me, but didn’t try to escape. She didn’t even move to defend herself. Instead, she sat there defeated, holding the dead woman’s limp body in her arms.
“Uh…” I couldn’t seem to hold onto my anger as I watched her. Without thinking, I reached out, offering to help her up. In that moment, a glowing, red medallion peeked out from inside her ripped armor, its gilded edges sparkling in the radiant sun.
I jumped back as though burned by her touch.
Her eyes widened, and she stood, trying to move away, but I caught her by the arm and yanked her roughly toward me, the dead woman’s body falling to the soiled ground.
“That’s my pendant!” I cried, the anger rushing back, filling me like a volcano ready to explode. All this time I’d spent searching, all the heartache we’d endured just to find this stupid trinket, and here it was. With my jaw clenched and my hands itching to destroy, I battled the rage in my heart, which demanded I kill this enemy.
“Give it to me,” I ordered, a growl in my voice.
I held Kalika’s arm tight in my grip and squeezed hard, unable to let go. She stared right back, and seemed willing to die without a fight as she stared into my eyes, hers sad and defeated. She was a soldier, so why didn’t she defend herself? What was wrong with her? Something shifted inside me, and it was all suddenly very clear.
This wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t caused this war or made the Warlord decimate the Guild cities. Instantly, it was gone. All the anger. All the hate. All the desire for revenge. Appalled by my previous violent thoughts, I released her arm and stepped back. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, knowing she didn’t understand, but hoping something in my expression would translate.
Her eyes grew wide. “Ub si sirtt,” she said, her eyes begging forgiveness. Slowly she pulled the bloodstained medallion from her neck, and held it out to me.
Hesitantly, I took it, placing the pendant over my head, letting it rest against my chest. Immediately, its familiar pulsing warmed me, and I felt complete once again, which surprised me. I hadn’t realized how incomplete I’d felt without it, how much weaker and empty. I would never let it go again.
Glancing back to Kalika, I noticed how red and swollen her eyes were, and how haggard she looked. Without warning, her knees buckled, and her eyes rolled back. I caught her just as her face softened into senselessness. Standing there in the middle of a deserted alley, I stared at the limp body in my arms. Should I take her to Flitwicket or Kirth, or turn her in to the soldiers? Should I leave her here and be on my way?
I made my decision without much deliberation, and carried the unconscious drow through the streets, trying not to drop her even though she grew heavier with each step. Onlookers stared, but I ignored them, my newly grown muscles straining and sweat beading on my brow as I huffed and puffed through the streets. Soon, I made it to the inn’s door, where a soldier stopped me.
“No dead allowed.”
I lifted my chin in pride and defiance. “She’s not dead. She’s a captured spy who needs to be questioned.”
The soldier hesitated, but ended up letting me pass. At the bottom of the stairs, I balanced Kalika on my bent knee and rested for a moment. The thought of hauling her dead weight up the stairs nearly did me in, but in one last explosion of effort, I carted her up to my room, and dropped her on my bed.
Gasping for breath, I sat back, examining her face. Long strands of blood-caked hair stuck to her cheeks and armor. She had slender fingers and a lithe, strong body. I remembered how it had pinned me to the ground… her dark eyes and perfectly shaped lips… and then she killed me… minor detail.
Exhausted, I decided to deal with her after some sleep, because the direction my thoughts were taking wasn’t good, and if I was anything, I was good… for the most part, but when I closed my eyes, it wasn’t pink fluffy clouds I dreamed about.
I was dreaming. I knew it, and even though it wasn’t real, I didn’t want to wake up. I was in the battlegrounds, fighting with the dark-skinned beauty, only we weren’t really fighting… we were… and it was hot and awesome… and then she started stabbing me in the hand, over and over. What the crap? It became a terrible burning that ripped through my fingers, and soon, it grew even more agonizing.
Through the heavy fog of sleep, I opened my eyes. Kalika stood at the door, trying desperately to escape. Each yank on the string came close to removing my finger. She turned and tripped, falling over the taut cord, sending an electrical zap up my entire arm.
“Oww! Stop! Stop!” I screamed, scrambling up as she tugged for freedom, frantically, biting the string, trying to break it with her teeth.
“Hold still!”
Deftly, she grabbed my knife as soon as I pulled it from my hip, and instead of slicing through the cord, she stabbed me in the shoulder. I screamed as a new burning sensation seared through me, and tried to roll away.
She lurched for the door and jerked the knob, but it didn’t open. I was so glad I’d locked it. I lunged for her, springing like a tiger, my body filled with adrenaline, and landed on her hard, knocking the knife from her fist. It slid across the floor and under the bed, out of reach.
I cursed under my breath, contemplating how I would subdue this madwoman. I didn’t want to hit her, punch her, or try to knock her out. It just wasn’t in me. I was only fourteen, after all, and not used to fighting so roughly with girls.
I waited too long. The drow grabbed my wounded shoulder and squeezed, digging her thumb into my puncture wound. Instantly I fell back, weak with the excruciating agony. Kalika slid across the wood floor, her fingers searching under the bed, and pulling out the knife. She sliced the air inches from my face.
I sprang back, holding my arm and grimacing. It was over. She would kill me… again, because I couldn’t seem to move past the pain in my shoulder even to defend myself. I did the only thing I could think of: I simply said her name. “Kalika.”
She stopped her attack and stared at me, her mouth opening into a tiny “oh”.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” I held my hands up in submission and backed away, showing her the string tied to my finger. Slowly, I worked it off and dropped it on the ground, showi
ng her she was free to leave if she wanted.
We stared at one another, her eyes widening. But she didn’t make good her escape. She stepped over to me, and motioned to my injury. The one she’d put there, and then pushed my shirt off my shoulder and inspected the wound. She pulled something from one of her many pockets—a salve of some sort—and coated the damaged area. Immediately, the burning subsided and the cut sealed right before my eyes.
“Sirtt fir gyrtubg tiy,” she said.
I gazed into her dark eyes: liquid pools of chocolate—which is one of my favorite things to eat—her fingers still sticky with salve, and almost leaned forward to touch the smooth skin of her face. That was when the door flew open with a loud bang. Kirth and Flitwicket stumbled through with their weapons drawn, obviously having heard the commotion.
Kalika jumped back in surprise, swirled around, brandishing my knife, and crouching into an attack position. I threw myself between my friends, my hands out on either side. “It’s okay! I found her and brought her here,” I said quickly. “She gave me back my pendant.” I pulled it out and held it up. The pendant glowed as it dangled in the sunshine.
Lauren and Dardanos pushed into the room behind Kirth and stared in obvious surprise at the frightened drow woman.
“Who’s that?” Lauren asked. “And why are you alone in our room with her?”
I ignored Lauren and placed a hand on Kalika’s arm. “It’s okay, Kalika.”
Kirth glanced at the dark woman. “Wgat ys yt tiy qre diubg ger?” he asked, his face guarded.
With a stunned expression, Kalika straightened. “U vane ti warb abiyr ab qract.”
Kirth stood still for a moment, thinking, wary, and then turned to the others. “She claims she tried to warn the city about the attack.”
“You actually think she’s telling the truth?” Dardanos asked. He glared at Kalika as though he’d like to run her through with his sword.
“No,” Flitwicket answered.
“How do you know?” I answered, already growing defensive of my dark warrior princess. At least that was how I was beginning to think of her.
“We don’t,” Kirth said. “But she’s part of the Legion. She might say anything to avoid death.”
“Maybe,” I answered. “Ask her why she tried to warn the city.”
“I’d still like to know what you were doing with her in our room,” Lauren added with a twisted grin. “Mom’s going to kill you.”
“Qhiar di se jbiw tiyw qre twkubg te ftryeh?” Kirth asked.
Kalika answered in a long, drawn out explanation, staring hard at all of us in turn. When she finished, she stood proud and tall, awaiting her fate.
“Well?” Flitwicket asked Kirth. “What did she say?”
“Basically, she said after joining the army she was forced to do many heinous things she regrets. She wants to leave the Legion and defect to the Guild.”
“How convenient,” Flitwicket drawled, walking over to the window. She crossed her arms, sighing.
“Hear me out,” Kirth said. “She said she wants to bring down the Warlord, and has a plan to do it. She’s heard talk among her ranks that the Warlord is afraid of some disturbing presence in the land. Some prophecy that says it will supposedly end his reign of power.”
Flitwicket snorted. “She’ll say anything to protect herself. She can’t be trusted and you know it. We should turn her in.”
“I don’t think she’s lying,” I said.
“Really?” Flitwicket whirled around to face me. “And how would you know that?”
I had never seen Flitwicket so defensive, so irritable. Why was she reacting this way? “Don’t think I’m being weird or anything, but… the pendant tells me she’s being honest.”
“The pendant?” Dardanos asked doubtfully.
“Yeah, somehow it talks to me. Well, it doesn’t really talk, but it sends me messages. I know it sounds stupid, but—”
“I believe you,” Kirth interrupted. “Things like that happen all the time with special… trinkets.” He stared fondly at my glowing medallion.
We stood in silence watching one another, no one moving until I turned to Kalika and smiled. “Tell her we believe her, and that she can help us find the Eye of Tanúb.”
“What?” Flitwicket exclaimed. “We can’t trust her! She can’t quest with us!”
Kirth ignored Flitwicket and translated the message.
Kalika’s face changed with each new sentence, her eyes widening. In panic, she reached for my hands. “Wyt tiyr cabbir gi fri tge Eyoh dif Tanúb. Qtge Warkiard gad ue ub gus oisseb tuib.”
I turned to Kirth. “What did she say?”
Kirth’s face lost all color, and he stood motionless.
“Kirth?”
Slowly, his gaze shifted back to me.
Flitwicket ran to him. “Kirth, what’s wrong?”
Kirth shook his head. “Sorry… I… she said…”
“She said what?” Lauren asked, exasperated. She always got impatient too fast.
Kirth’s eyes were far away, his mouth hanging slack. “She said the Eye of Tanúb is no longer in the Cave of Wonders. The Warlord has it.”
I jumped up, my heart in my throat. “What? Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure. He… he killed Tanúb, the Eye’s eternal guardian, and took the Eye. There’s no way to get it now. It makes him all powerful. It makes him… unconquerable.”
We hurried to the castle keep where the magistrar of Stonehammer resided, and wound through a maze of halls until we reached the great room where the magistrar of the halfling city waited, his regal robes brushing along the floor.
Our little band of questers sat at a long table, the magistrar’s face grim. He glanced briefly at the drow maverick. “Tell me, Zach, human maverick, how you came to save this… this girl.” He gestured to Kalika.
I pressed my fingers on the table, leaning forward. “This drow is Kalika. She would like to defect to the Guild. I ask that you grant her request.”
“Hmm. And you believe her story?” The magistrar directed his question to Kirth.
Kirth cleared his throat and nodded. “She went from house to house during the siege saving Stonehammer citizens. I’d say that qualifies. At least for something.”
“And you, Flitwicket?”
Flitwicket hesitated, her eyes darting between Kirth, Zach, and Kalika. I caught her eye, begging with my own for her to say yes, my mind racing, wondering what she would do. Did she believe me? Could she believe that Kalika was really on our side?
“Yes, Magistrar,” Flitwicket said finally. “I believe her story.”
“Very well. On the recommendation of such honored people, I will grant this request, but remember,” he said, pointing to me, “you are responsible for her.”
I nodded, not liking this magistrar. I did not have a good feeling about him, like a gnawing ache in my gut. There was something off about him, and even though the man was part of the Guild, he seemed shifty and deceptive.
“You mentioned being given a quest by the magistrar in Tardania?” The magistrar sat back and placed his hands in his lap, giving off an air of boredom.
“Yes.”
“I know Gloriella,” the magistrar stated with a thin smile. “If she sent you on this quest, then you must complete it.” His voice did not match the intent of his words. He seemed sarcastic, caustic, and irritable.
“The Warlord has the Eye. How do you suggest we take it?” Dardanos asked. He’d been quiet most of the time, sticking by Lauren’s side.
The magistrar shrugged. “That’s for you to decipher. But beware—whoever wields the Eye is unstoppable. The Warlord has not yet solved its riddle or we would see him on our doorstep.”
The group went on to discuss matters of Stonehammer and the ongoing war with the Legion. I soon became bored, not really understanding the intricacies of it all, and because of one minor detail—I was a kid—they weren’t including me. I just wanted to get on with our que
st.
Taking a deep breath, I finally spoke up. “Hey, everyone. I’m gonna take Kalika to get something to eat.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room before anyone could object.
“Wyer qre sy foin?” Kalika asked as we left the room.
I didn’t know how to answer, but kept pulling her until we were out of the keep and back at the inn’s dining room. Once there, we sat at one of the rough-hewn tables, menus in hand. She pointed to the picture of roasted lamb and potatoes. When the waitress came, I gave our order. We waited the next few minutes in silence.
I glanced up to see Kalika staring. She didn’t seem very old, probably no older than Lauren was. She gazed at me with luminous, sad eyes, and I couldn’t stand how forlorn she looked.
“Should we talk?” I asked with a chuckle. “Too bad you can’t understand me.”
She sat still, not answering.
I sighed and looked away, but turned when I felt her hand on my arm. She smiled, pointing at me and saying, “Zach.”
I sat up in surprise. “Yes!” I said, pointing to my chest, repeating, “Zach!”
I then proceeded to point out everything around us, from the table and chairs, to the sconces and fireplace, giving each item a name. She repeated it all and was soon stringing together broken sentences. I couldn’t believe how fast she learned, how smart she was. We sat teaching each other until late in the evening. I didn’t even notice the passing of time.
The next day came too soon. I lay in my new bed exhausted, sleep deprived, and achy after the last day’s events. I’d switched rooms, so Kalika could have my bed—which Lauren was just thrilled about—and now I shared a room with Dardanos and Kirth. I’d had to sleep on the floor, listening to my toons snore the whole night, and the only thing I wanted was to sleep longer, but the sound of splashing woke me.
I rolled over to see a huge metal tub sitting in the center of the room, Dardanos, climbing inside. “What are you doing?” I asked, stunned to see my warrior naked.
“I’m taking a bath.” Dardanos’s expression had duh written all over it.
“Right now?”
“Why not right now? We’re leaving soon, and I want to be clean.”