“Oh, you need the magistrar then.” Flitwicket placed a stopper in her vial and tucked it in her pocket. “She’ll help you. She has the answers to everything.”
Zach smacked his forehead. “That’s right! I forgot. I’m not sure how to get there though.” He was lying. I could tell. I was sure he knew his way around this city blindfolded. He just wanted to spend more time with his priestess, but I couldn’t blame him. I kind of did too. And he created her?
I glanced at him when Flitwicket wasn’t looking. “And people think I’m devious.”
He smiled at me. A genuine smile, and it filled me with happiness. A very unfamiliar feeling where Zach was concerned. I realized I liked it. A lot.
Flitwicket smiled at him too, her face glowing. “You’re a sweet boy.” She patted his head affectionately. “I suppose I can take you. But it’s a bit of a walk.”
“That’s okay. We don’t mind walking,” Zach said with a radiant smile.
The castle keep was nothing like the rest of the gleaming city. Ominous shadows hid in every corner, and twisting halls of black brick felt dangerously eerie. It didn’t seem to bother Flitwicket or Zach, but it did bother me, and I wondered if playing the game on the computer felt this scary and dangerous.
In the main room, a long, wooden table was laden with food: roasted turkey, fruits, steamed vegetables, hot, buttered rolls. It smelled like Thanksgiving, and the aroma wafted over us like a warm tidal wave. The city’s leaders feasted, laughing and visiting, and I was tempted to sit myself down beside them and dig in. I’d never felt this hungry at home, but here, I didn’t seem to care about my figure, about modeling, or about looking good. It just didn’t seem important anymore.
“I know this place. The magistrar lives here. She’s a powerful sorceress who grants wishes, reads the future, and sends you on quests before she’ll give you any answers. Be polite,” Zach said, leaning toward me and filling me in on everything before I said anything stupid. His words. Not mine.
Like I wouldn’t be? Geez. Who did he think I was?
Zach whispered that he had spent many nights playing Warlord, and knew that Gloriella, the magistrar, was secretive and clever. This meeting gave him an uneasy feeling. Her quests were difficult and often dangerous. If they were assigned to do a raid, they’d have to get a huge group together. If the quest was located in enemy territory, they could be killed, and he worried that she wouldn’t be open to helping them, even though she was part of the Guild.
I pulled back and stared at him. “Seriously? You’re telling me this now? After we’re already here? Why did we even come if you weren’t sure she’d help?” I whispered back.
But before he could answer, Flitwicket led us to the candlelit table and bowed. “Your Majesty. You have visitors who wish your audience.” She backed up until she stood behind us, leaving me feeling very exposed.
All eyes turned to us, and my heart began to race. My hands grew sweaty, and it felt worse than being on a runway. This was probably one of those moments where he had to say everything perfectly, and I knew he’d get it wrong. Don’t misunderstand, my brother is super smart—not that I would tell him that—but he can get cocky when it comes to computer games, and I wanted to go home, not go on a quest or whatever.
Zach took a deep breath and stepped forward, bowing and motioning for me to do the same. I attempted a half curtsy, not knowing what else to do or what was appropriate. Unsure, I stood back up, and folded my arms over my chest.
Zach groaned in mortification.
Crap. What did I do wrong?
A clouded expression crossed the magistrar’s creamy-white face as she studied me.
“Epic phail,” Zach mumbled from the corner of his mouth, but I still had no idea what I’d done wrong. Whatever it was, hopefully Zach could repair the damage. I promised myself I would make it up to him if I could.
Everyone waited.
Zach opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. I prayed for a miracle. I had no idea what to say. My mind was blank, empty of anything intelligent or clever.
“Your Majesty,” he said. “You are wise and powerful. We beg your good will in a matter of great importance.”
He sounded so Shakespearean, so regal, that it caught me off guard, and I let out a snicker. I quickly covered my mouth, but it was too late. Zach turned in what felt like slow motion, and stared at me, holding his breath. The tension in the room rose. He glanced back at the magistrar who locked eyes with him, hers wide and dark. She nodded once, her ebony hair falling over her shoulders, then rested her slender fingers on the table before her.
Zach continued nervously. “My sister and I are far from home. We appeared here suddenly, not knowing how or why, but we need to get back. Can you help us?”
We waited, the air heavy with anticipation.
The magistrar’s gaze fell to Zach’s chest. “I see you wear a powerful pendant. How did you come by it?” She spoke slowly, her voice low and resonant.
I glanced at his chest also, having totally forgotten about that stupid medallion. It glowed in the dim light, throbbing gently against his chest. He lifted his eyes to meet hers. “It was given to me.”
The magistrar reclined, steepling her fingers over her silvery robes. A crafty smile formed on her ruby-red lips. “Ah… I see. Well done.” Her face turned thoughtful and she said, “Zachary Marriott, I have half a mind to let you wander aimlessly in this world, but no doubt the two of you would soon find yourselves dead.”
My hope sank. She wasn’t going to help us? How could a magistrar for the Guild, the good guys, be so heartless, so uncaring? Why would she punish Zach for my stupidity? I hadn’t meant to cause trouble, or make getting home more difficult. I felt terrible, guilty, and the look Zach gave me… if I hadn’t been so shocked and dismayed, I’d have turned around and run from the room, blubbering.
But the magistrar continued, her words lifting me out of the muck of self-pity. “You have a kind heart and a brave spirit, Zachary Marriott. You are not here for yourself, but for other important reasons. The lessons you learn here in Terratir will be incalculable. Obtain the Eye of Tanúb, and you will be sent home. You will need strength and cunning to survive, as the Eye resides in a perilous location. Choose friends to help you, but choose wisely, as they will either assist in your mission or hinder it.” She leaned back, looking from him to me. “Good luck to you both.”
Zach stood rooted to the floor, frozen and speechless. His mouth moved, but no sound escaped. He bowed and thanked the magistrar—surely not feeling thankful at all—and promised to return with the Eye of Tanúb.
He grabbed me by the hand, and we fled the room. He squeezed my hand extra hard for good measure. “She’s trying to kill us!” he cried. “There’s no way we can do this quest! It’s a level ninety-five!”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but the more he rambled, the more terrified I became. “What did she mean?” I asked, rubbing my sore fingers.
“This is an impossible quest. A deadly one.” Zach stared absentmindedly out over the populated plaza. He didn’t really even seem to notice the crowd, but I did. Everyone stared at us like we were wearing flashing neon robes.
“What did she mean?” I asked again, this time more forcefully so he’d answer.
He whirled around to face me, fury in his eyes. “This means you screwed up… again. This means she didn’t like you!”
My first reaction was to be defensive, to lash back, to blow it off even. “Oh, big deal.” I said, stepping back, giving Zach an imaginary sock on the arm. “You don’t have to get so mad.” But my ingratiating smile didn’t work. He just glared at me, shaking his head slowly like he wanted to kill me.
“You don’t get it, do you?” He paced in a circle, his voice rising. “The quest she gave us is a level ninety-five. Ninety-five! We’re level ones, if anything. We’ll die for sure, and all because you’re such a snob and look down on everyone else. And you snorted! You actually snorted!”<
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I grabbed his sleeve, making him face me. “Well, we wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for you playing a brainless game you’re not supposed to play anyway! You blame me, and really, this is all your fault! You can’t get your fat butt off your computer chair! What kind of loser sits around and plays on the computer all day?” The words were out of my mouth before I could pull them back. Immediately, I regretted them.
Zach finally noticed the ring of people staring at us. His face grew red, because unlike me, he couldn’t stand to be gawked at.
“You know what?” he asked quietly, “I can’t deal with you right now.” He gave me one last look of contempt, and then ran the other direction.
I watched Zach run away, but then I realized it meant he was leaving me alone in a strange place with strange people, and even though everyone spoke English, it all seemed like a foreign language to me.
So, I followed him.
I knew I should give him space—because that was how we did it at home—but I couldn’t be left behind. I made sure to memorize the buildings along the way, but it was hard, since the roads twisted and soon all looked the same. Zach stopped in front of a building called the Tardania Armory where all sorts of hulking men—decked out in heavy armor, wearing shields and breastplates that we wouldn’t be able to lift, let alone fight in—visited.
Their daggers, arrows, and broadswords glistened in the moonlight, and I watched in awe as they boasted of combat victories. Zach must have been in heaven here, and a whole new appreciation for my brother blossomed inside me. This was his world. A world he knew and loved.
Zach slipped inside the building, while I hid just outside the door, feeling extraordinarily conspicuous. I smiled, nodded, and waved at those who frowned at me, and pretended I belonged there, all the while listening for Zach’s distinctive voice that I would recognize anywhere.
I peeked around the corner to see what he was up to and noticed someone familiar standing at the front counter. Someone with dark, wavy hair that cascaded down his shoulders. The armor he wore was unmistakable, and when he turned slightly, the scar across his chest confirmed it.
Dardanos.
Quickly, I shrank back, not wanting him to notice me, but the temptation to peek again was almost unbearable. I could hear Dardanos’s voice as he dickered over prices with the proprietor, his voice deep and rumbling. The building was small, but I couldn’t see where Zach had hidden himself, and because I didn’t want to go all the way inside, I waited, the night insects buzzing around my head.
After a short while, the warrior stepped from the shop, not even glancing my way, and started down the darkened street. Unsurprisingly, Zach followed him, not far behind. I should have known he wouldn’t be able to resist any more than I had. Zach didn’t notice me either, but that was because I hid in the shadows, and he certainly didn’t suspect I would trail him.
Tailing them, I darted behind a tree just in time to see Dardanos spin around and pin Zach down to a bench. It happened so fast that it took me a minute to realize what happened. I choked back a startled cry and remembered to stay hidden.
“You’d better have a good reason for following me,” Dardanos growled loud enough for me to hear. Even on the darkened street, his expression was not difficult to read. Did Zach have a good reason—other than the fact that Dardanos was his creation and hero—to follow him? I waited in anticipation to see what Zach would say, praying it would be clever.
“I do,” he said finally. “I need your help. I’ve been given a quest to obtain the Eye of Tanúb, and I can’t do it alone.”
A flicker of interest flashed in Dardanos’s eyes, and his expression softened. He let Zach go and folded his thick arms across his chest. “That’s a difficult quest. One I’m not sure even I could do.”
“But you’re a powerful warrior! If we got a few other high levels, we could!”
“I don’t know what you mean by ‘high levels,’ but I will not kill myself over a foolhardy quest or a foolhardy boy.”
That had to hurt, and I ached for Zach, whose reaction to that statement was plain on his face: betrayal. I was familiar with that look. He’d given it to me numerous times, but the last time was when he saw me watching his fight with Devon, when I’d done nothing.
Zach recovered quickly, and before Dardanos could walk away, asked, “Do you know a priestess named Flitwicket? She’s a high lev… a powerful dryad. Maybe she would help too.”
“Flitwicket, you say? Yes, I know her. She is powerful, and may help, but you’d need more than just a priestess.” Dardanos appraised Zach from head to toe. “What reward should I expect for my services?”
“Reward? You want a reward?”
I cringed at the hurt in Zach’s voice. Dardanos wanted payment, but we had no money. Zach answered by telling him he had no coin, no jewels, and no reputation here. He had nothing to offer the warrior.
Poor Zach. He’d made Dardanos, made him powerful and fantastic, and this was how his hero returned the favor? What a royal jerk. An acute dislike for his toon began to grow inside me. I wanted to walk out and smack that giant man across the face, but I knew it would only make things worse. Zach would be humiliated, so I stayed where I was and watched his rejection in silence.
Zach walked away slowly, and I snuck back to the main square where the magistrar’s building stood. Flitwicket was still there, visiting with people she knew, another vial in her hand. She handed a vial to the tall elf that stood at her side, and the tinkle of money fell into her palm. She smiled, and the elf—who had ears at least eight-inches long, then walked away.
She noticed me immediately, and a wide smile spread across her angelic face. “Lauren, you’re back. I knew you would be.”
“You did?” Maybe this woman could read minds. It wouldn’t surprise me at all, but I found comfort in her voice. Somehow, I didn’t feel lost and alone while with her.
“Of course,” she answered kindly. “And you must be exhausted. Let’s get you a room at the inn, shall we?”
I was ready to bow down and worship at her feet when she said that. She led the way across the square, into a white, clapboard building that looked eerily similar to the one in Morgantown, right down to the long counter and rock fireplace. Tables and chairs were placed here and there for patrons to sit and eat at, but Flitwicket wasted no time. She secured me a room, then took me up the stairs and showed me my door. She didn’t leave me on my own at all, and I felt so relieved. Not that I was a chicken or anything, but everything here was still unfamiliar and, well, scary.
She wished me a good night and told me she’d be back in the morning. Once I’d locked the door behind me, I turned to survey my new quarters. A four-poster bed stood against the wall, and there was one window to the left of it. A chair sat near the bed, and the floor was hardwood with a braided rug in the center.
It was rustic, but I’d take it. Falling onto the feather mattress, I had no thoughts of anything else. Not even Zach. I fell asleep the moment I closed my eyes.
Since there were no curtains on the window, the sun dawned brightly, or rather, glaring, the next morning. That one shaft of light that happened to fall on the bed, landed right in my eyes, and it seemed no matter where I lay, which direction I faced, that light followed me.
It didn’t take long to figure out it was hopeless, so I got up and glanced in the lone mirror that hung on the wall by the door. It was small, and I could pretty much only see my face. That should have been enough to start me screaming, but I refrained, not wanting to wake up anyone else at the inn. Smoothing my dirty jeans and slept-in T-shirt that was meant for yard work, I sauntered down the wooden staircase to the main room downstairs.
Sure enough, Flitwicket waited there for me, sitting at a table, small, white cloths spread out before her. She ran her hand just above them, a blue light glowing beneath her palm. It was magic, pure and simple. Staring, I felt something like envy grow inside me. How cool would it be to have magical abilities?
&
nbsp; Okay, so it’s true that at fifteen I should know better or have more mature desires, but I was in a world of magic and sorcery. When in Rome, right? I walked over and sat down beside her. She gave me a huge smile and tucked the magic cloths inside a small satchel she carried.
“What are you doing?” I asked, and then wondered how her hair could look so perfect this early in the morning. Did she even sleep on it?
“I’m making bandages,” she said, sounding surprised I needed to ask.
“Wow. That… is really cool. And they work? They heal people magically?”
Cocking her head, she watched me, her eyes twinkling. “Oh yes. They work. And fast. That is why I use them. That is what a priestess does. We heal people… among other things.”
I took that moment to study her outfit. You cannot imagine how beautiful her long, white robes were. They glistened iridescently, and when she moved, they shimmered… like magic. They weren’t tight fitting, but weren’t totally loose either. They fit her perfectly, and if there was anyone who was model material, it was the ethereal being who seemed human, and yet felt otherworldly, who sat across from me.
Okay. I can see why Zach loved this game. I was beginning to appreciate it myself, but no way would I tell him that… yet.
Flitwicket ordered plain, old, boring food, but when I put it in my mouth… there was no describing the feeling that spread through my body, like fire that didn’t burn. Like an energy drink on steroids. Only a few bites, and I felt like Wonder Woman, ready to take on the world.
But that didn’t change the fact that my brother had left me alone in a strange, dangerous world just because he wanted to throw a temper tantrum. That burned, and when he got back, I’d tell him so.
Outside in the town square, the sun glowed brightly overhead, and people milled around, going in and out of all the quaint little shops, buying their wares. “What’s that place?” I asked Flitwicket as we passed a little store with wide, clear windows, bottles of every color sitting on the shelves.
“Oh, that’s a potion shop. I sell my potions there, actually. I also buy ingredients there for the potions I make. Would you like to go inside?”