Today is the day of my execution. I, Puck Alexander Capernaum III, will die by hanging when the sun sets this evening. My former student, Maldamien, Warlock dictator of the faerie world of Gryphendale, has planned a sweet revenge to celebrate his 150th birthday. My foolish presumption to join Sage’s half-baked caper placed me easily into Maldamien’s hands. I sit alone in my small, stone cell in the basement of the Ogre outpost next to the ancient palace ruins of Yarrow pondering my fate.
“You there,” says a gruff, seven-foot-tall Ogre in full armor from outside of the cell. I stand up, adjust my orange top hat and matching orange waistcoat. After all, I don’t have to die looking like a barbarian, though, my poor white dress shirt is grimy and has a burn hole in my right shoulder. My two goat-hooved feet echo on the stone floor as I walk to the door of the cell.
“You bellowed,” I say with a grand bow, slightly lifting my hat.
The boar-faced Ogre wrinkles up his nose in a snarl. “Yeh, you get to meet with Maldamien before you die.”
Fun. It doesn’t surprise me that he would want to gloat. He had always thought he was smarter than me from the moment he walked into my class as a teenager. Yes, that does make me quite old. I’m 287 years old and should have died a long time ago, but that doesn’t make this any easier. My death was not inevitable. I walked right into it.
***
It all began two months ago when I was enjoying my mug of deliciously brewed cinnamon tonic in a dark corner of a hidden inn and brewery called The Dead Toad. The Sprite underground rebellion was having their monthly meeting. The usual debates about the abuses, taxes, and slavery digressed into drunken remembrances and songs about the old days. The twenty-two ragged Sprites were crowded together in the small, dark dining room. Their bitter laments about the last Ogre aggressions were interrupted by a loud knock at the door.
Only friends of the innkeeper knew that the large boulder on the bottom of the Caoineag forest was an inn, mainly since all the Sprites lived up in the branches of the trees and not on the ground. The large Sprite innkeeper moved quickly to the door and answered it. The room waited in hushed terror of discovery. I immediately recognized the young Huldra adventurer, Sage, and the old Dryad inventor, Toble. They were greeted enthusiastically and dragged into the room as everyone rushed at them for news of the other underground groups. These two men were legendary among these clandestine gatherings for their daring rescues and continual fight against the evils of Maldamien’s dictatorship. As always, they looked like they had run into trouble.
I joined the crowd of star-struck Sprites in greeting them as the innkeeper fetched his medical supplies. It’s hard to be seen in a group of human height faeries when I’m only a little over three feet tall. I got my chance to push through the throng and shake Toble’s large rough hands.
“Ogres, Nomads, or Huldras this time?” I asked.
The white-haired man with large pointed ears smirked tiredly. “Ogres,” said Toble as he dropped his large canvas bag. “Sage has a thing for aggravating them.”
I laughed because it was the truth. “Well, what has brought you here this time?”
“Ah!” said Sage. He flicked his dark brown fox tail that matched his messy hair and unshaven face. The athletic man in his early twenties plopped down in a chair as his eyes changed colors from black to green. “I have a plan! A great idea that will be remembered for years to come.”
The innkeeper immediately started to work on the gash on Sage’s left arm. Ideas were what Sage did best, but they weren’t always the safest way to spend one’s time. No one in the room was surprised by this announcement. It was both expected and part of the excitement of his visits.
I shook my curly red and gray-haired head. “You always do. What is it this time?”
“No! This is much bigger and better than my normal ideas,” said Sage. He hissed as the innkeeper cleaned the raw scrape on his face. “I intend to steal the Cerulean Pendant from around Maldamien’s neck at his 150th birthday celebration,” said Sage loud enough for the room to hear.
The room went silent. Even the innkeeper stopped working and just stared at Sage.
“Have you lost your mind?” said a gaunt Sprite woman. Her translucent moth wings twitched nervously and intangibly through the furniture. “You want to steal a legendary jewel that can block magic attacks from around the neck of the most powerful Warlock that has ever lived at a time when most of his armies are going to be parading around singing his praises?”
“Yep,” said Sage with another flick of his fox tail. “Who’s in?”
It was an idea only Sage could ever think was possible. The whole crowd dispersed and returned to their seats.
“I’ll help you, Sage,” I foolishly said, “but it had better be a good idea.”
Sage, Toble, and I had spent nearly a month traveling to the various underground groups in each of the eight countries.
Only two more joined our group: Zachery, the Undine Seer who could move massive amounts of water with a wave of his webbed hands, and Jackson, a dandy Sprite Seer who used his wind magic to move objects and startle the absent-minded Toble.
“The last one we need is Bladderwrack,” said Sage as we traveled to the Ogre homeland of Rokurokubi.
“What a name!” said Jackson. “What can he do?”
“SHE is our wild card,” said Sage. “Without her, we might as well not even try.”
And that was all he would say.
As we crossed the border of Rokurokubi, we found the Ogress waiting for Sage in the shade of an olive tree. She was hideous with the tail of a cow, purple eyes, and gray, warty skin. She was laying back against the tree with her hands behind her head and her eyes half closed.
“Bladderwrack,” said Sage with a big smile. “Were you expecting me?”
“The rumors of your schemes travel like wildfire, young Goliad,” she said with her eyes still mostly shut. “Your late father, the great general of the old kingdom, was never so cocky.” Then, she opened up her eyes to look at him and smiled. “That’s why I like you.”
Sage folded his arms and swished his fox tail. “Well, we have about a month left to make this work. Are you and Soul’s Bane in?”
“Who’s Soul’s Bane?” asked Jackson twitching his moth wings.
“My sword,” said Bladderwrack. She stood up to her full seven feet and drew a massive two-handed claymore with one hand.
Jackson swore, and the rest of us gawked. The Ogress chuckled.
“I hope it’s worth my time,” she said as she sheathed the sword. “Come, we have much to talk about, and I’m hungry enough to eat a village.”
We followed her to a cave in the Odemience mountains not far away. We pooled our food for a hearty meal as we discussed Sage’s plan in detail.
“After the parade of troops and bands, performances will take place near the ruins of Yarrow, which is as close to the center of the eight kingdoms as you can get. Around Maldamien’s neck hangs the Cerulean Pedant, which protects him from magic, but not from theft. I want to steal it and give it back to the Undine ruler, King Martin, to protect his hidden palace. If he doesn’t have something to protect the palace soon, Maldamien will wipe him out. In return for the Cerulean Pedant, King Martin has offered us safety, shelter, and rewards.
“The celebration is one of the few times Maldamien leaves his fortress. Each one of you is essential to this plan. If any of you fail, all of our lives are in genuine danger.” Sage looked at each person in the group. “Toble, do you still have the map?”
Toble dug around in his large canvas bag and pulled out a parchment scroll. Sage unrolled it on the floor of the cave. We gathered around to study it.
“The ruins of Yarrow are in an open valley, and the broken walls will provide us with cover,” said Sage as he pointed to the structure in the center of the hand-drawn diagram. “We will have to work our way into the crowds separately. Zachery and Jackson will look like peasants staying near the locations of their tasks. Toble will need to stay with a wagon on the road to the north of the ruins. Bladderwrack will be in Ogre uniform.”
“And what about me,” I asked.
“You need to be near invisible,” said Sage. “I suggest you wear Nomad clothes and cover your face. You’ll work your way right up to Maldamien himself to steal the pendant.”
The revelation was like a slap in the face. I gasped and knocked my top hat off my head.
“Puck, you’re the best pick-pocket I have ever not seen,” said Sage. “I’ve never been able to see you accomplish your theft even when I know you’re doing it.”
“A pick-pocket?” said Jackson. “You were a royal tutor, weren’t you?”
“You learn quite a few skills in three hundred years,” I muttered.
“We’ll wait until close to sunset before we act,” said Sage. “Zachery, you will need to find a high point to shoot down anyone who tries to stop Puck. I suggest the tall south wall of the Yarrow ruins.” He pointed to the place on his map. “How far can you shoot your ice daggers?”
“About 100 yards accurately,” Zachery said.
“Well, you need to hit soldiers while they are moving from 150 yards,” said Sage.
Zachery swore.
“There’s a tree closer,” offered Sage, “but the branches might get in your way. You could hang upside down and shoot, I suppose.”
“Have you ever done magic upside down before?” asked Zachery.
Sage shook his head. “I don’t do magic.”
“Well, it’s impossible,” said Zachery. “The blood rushes to your head, and you can’t get the magic to flow to your hands.” Toble and Jackson both verified Zachery’s statement.
“I never knew that,” said Sage.
Zachery snorted as he crossed his arms. “I’ll do the 150-yard shots from the wall.”
“OK,” said Sage. “Toble, you’ll need to drive the wagon for everyone’s escape. You have to drive like the wind as soon as I show myself. Get as close to Maldamien’s stand as possible to collect everyone. Can you drive a team of horses and do magic at the same time?”
“You might as well ask me to do calculus and surgery at the same time, Sage,” said Toble.
“Then that’s a yes,” said Sage. “Jackson, you need to be stationed at the front of the stands keeping the Ogres away with a small tornado. Once the wagon shows up, you’ll need to expand the storm to surround the wagon as Toble drives it south.”
“A storm from a high-speed wagon? We’ll drive right into the rocks and branches caught up in the wind!” said Jackson.
“Move the storm to match Toble’s speed,” said Sage. “We’ll have time to practice. Now, all of this doesn’t happen until after I reveal myself on the west wall of the ruins. The soldiers will start chasing me, and that will be the signal for everyone to move. I’ll lead them through traps that we will have set up near the Undine River to the west.” He pointed to places already marked on his map. “Whatever you do, don’t leave the plan! Bladderwrack, you’re our insider to Maldamien. Wooden bleachers have been built for the nobility to watch the celebration. Maldamien will have a private box near the center. We’ll replace the Ogre closest to him with you before all of this begins. Keep Maldamien distracted so that Puck can pull off a sleight of hand. Everything needs to happen as close to the same time as possible. We’ll have only one moment to catch everyone by surprise.”
“It sounds well planned except that most of Maldamien’s armies are going to be there. No matter how many you lead away, they aren’t going to let us get away,” said Jackson.
“We ‘ll escape into the river,” said Sage.
“What do you mean?” asked Zachery. “Their archers and fire Warlocks can shoot us on the river.”
“He means under the river,” clarified Toble. “We’ll run right into the river and travel under the water to the Undine Palace. Wind and water magic can combine to make a small bubble around our wagon. We only have to go down the north shore just ten miles south of Yarrow.”
“What!” said Jackson. “Ten miles after I’ve been making tornadoes and wind storms? That’s a lot of magic.”
“I can help with that,” I offered. “I’m proficient in most kinds of magic, but we need to practice. Combined spells are tricky, and this is a big one.”
“What will prevent Maldamien from following us?” asked Zachery. “He’s the strongest Warlock who has ever lived. You aren’t going to just nab him in a spring tree noose trap like you would a squirrel.”
“What’s a spring tree noose trap?” asked Jackson.
“It’s just a rope noose on the ground tied to a bent tree with a light trigger,” said Toble. “Hardly anyone uses it anymore.”
“I can take care of Maldamien,” said Bladderwrack. “One good cut on the wrist in the right place, and he won’t be able to cast a spell until it has healed.”
***
She had been right about that. Even at my age, you learn new things every once in a while. The bandage on my right wrist demonstrates that Maldamien already knows that little trick and uses it on his prisoners regularly. The cut on my wrist hurts like crazy. I try to ignore it, but it’s the first time in my life that I cannot use magic. What a way to face the gallows!
***
Our crew spent two weeks practicing our skills and moving our location. Then, Sage learned from a drunk Nomad that Maldamien wasn’t going to show his face at the celebration at all. We were devastated.
“We just need to tweak the plan,” said Toble as everyone sat around the Gnome inn nursing their mugs of strong tonic.
“Sure,” said Bladderwrack. “What do we do about the pendant?”
“He’ll still be there, but just inside the outpost,” said Sage. He gulped more of the tonic. “I have an idea.”
I should have noticed the slight slur in his intoxicated voice. Well, we thought it was a good alternative at that point, so we adjusted our plans accordingly.
We split up to get what we needed. Sage and Toble traveled to the woods around Yarrow to set the traps. Jackson and Zachery went to steal medical supplies and weapons from a crooked merchant. Bladderwrack and I were commissioned to take a wagon. That should have been the easiest of the tasks.
We had decided we needed a large wagon built by one of the tall races, so we traveled to Caoineag for a Sprite wagon. Almost as soon as we crossed the border, we spotted the dull stone structure of an Ogre outpost with a wagon tied near the stables.
“Hey! An Ogre wagon will be the biggest thing that there is,” said Bladderwrack.
I knew better than to steal from the military. Soldiers tend to have weapons and all those fancy toys, but it seemed pretty easy at the time. We just walked up, untied the wagon, and climbed in. Bladderwrack took the reins and was just about to get the horses going when an Ogre at the doorway of the outpost started shouting the alarm. I turned and shot a sleep spell at him. It was the quietest and quickest spell I could muster, but it was too late. Ogres poured out of the outpost in every direction.
Bladderwrack flicked the reins and got the wagon out onto the road before the first Ogre could reach us. For a moment, I thought we would get away, but a fireball hit me in the arm knocking me out of the wagon.
“Puck!” shouted Bladderwrack as I rolled on the ground. She glanced back at me, but the Ogres were already surrounding me. It was too late for her to do anything.
“Go!” I shouted, “Get away!”
I heard her shout at the horses and drive them hard down the road.
Well, the rest is history. I’m too valuable of a prisoner to have avoided being included in Maldamien’s birthday, so, predictably, here I am.
***
I notice the Ogre guard with boar’s teeth at my cell door.
“Maldamien is ready for you,” he says.
I straighten my orange waistcoat and adjust my top hat before I walk to the cell door.
The boar-faced Ogre opens the squeaky iron door and lets me out. We walk silently through the vast basement. Then we travel out of the basement and up a set of narrow stone stairs to a room in the officer’s section of the barracks. Everything I have seen of the plain stone building was purely functional, but when the Ogre opens the door to this office, it has the luxurious adornment that belongs in a palace.
Maldamien sits behind an ornate wooden desk. He considers himself a human Englishman and dresses the part. I suspect that he has some blood of one of the more undesirable minor races of Gryphendale. If he does, it isn’t apparent. His slick, black hair and chiseled goatee compliment his youthful appearance of a man in his prime, no older than thirty. He looks amazing for 150. I’m impressed.
Maldamien glances up from his writing with a slight smirk.
“My dear, old teacher,” he says with bitterness. “I’ve longed for this day for many years.”
I snarl and cross my arms waiting for what he wants. He stands up from his desk and walks around it with the arrogant bearing he has had since he was a youth. I can see the Cerulean Pedant hanging from around his neck just as Sage had described. The sparkling bluish jewel hangs from a thick gold chain as a teasing reminder of my failure. Maldamien stands before me looking down at me.
“You embody everything that is wrong with this world,” he says. “Do you think I didn’t expect you and your friends to crash my celebration. I’ve expected your friend Sage from the very beginning.”
My thoughts immediately start to whirl. This has been a trap from the start? I suppose Sage has interrupted enough events that it would have been predictable. Still, Sage and the whole group are in danger if Maldamien is prepared for them. There is no way for me to know what they are doing right now, and no way to warn them.
“Does Sage make you nervous?” I say finally after a small pause.
Maldamien raises an eyebrow. “You know me better than that. I get rid of my pests. I don’t run from them. Sage will come, and then I will squash him.”
I narrow my eyes. “I think you would have done that before now if you could have.”
“I’ve not even begun to try,” says Maldamien.
He holds out his hands to his sides forming molten lava fireballs in each. His eyes glow red as wind blows around his clothing. He shines with an obnoxious display of all-magic. It would have impressed anyone else, except I can do that too if my wrist isn’t cut.
“My underlings may have struggled, but I will not,” says Maldamien.
Fiery anger boils up in me. The arrogance is nauseating. I can usually hold my temper, but the dark use of perfectly good magic touches a sore spot with me. I grit my teeth but restrain myself.
“You have always had skill in manipulating magic, but you have never been clever, Maldamien,” I tell him. “Talent only goes so far. A smart scoundrel is worth ten Warlocks. Magic is just a tool. It’s a club that you use to bully those around you, but one day you will trip over the simplest wit. Your superiority complex will trap you.”
“Fool,” snarls Maldamien as he puts out his fire spells and leans close to my face. “I have seen what the great minds out there have devised. I’ve destroyed the most complicated plots, the cleverest contraption, and the most skilled wizards.”
“You haven’t done any of that,” I say with fury. “You’ve hidden away in your fortress and used your army to protect your throne. You use brute force, not intelligence. Your horrendous reign has destroyed thousands of lives and plunged the majority of the populace into absolute poverty.”
“I rule this world rightfully,” growls Maldamien. “Not one person has successfully opposed me. Even now when I rule the whole world, you won’t admit that I’m your better. I’m more powerful than anyone else you have ever known.”
“You’re nothing, Maldamien,” I growl in return. “I can name dozens who are better than you. Your warped mind has poisoned your magic, and I despise you more than any other living person. My dying breath would bless Sage Goliad before your name ever crossed my lips.”
“Do you think that an illiterate orphan from the Nomad Desert has any hope of getting away from me?” shouts Maldamien. “I hope you live long enough to see me burn that scruffy rogue into a crisp. I will drink to your death knowing that you have seen all you have done reduced to ash.”
I leap towards him and put my hands around his neck. I wanted to destroy him at that moment. Maldamien knocks me across the room with one sweep of his hand. His magic gives me no chance even to hurt him. I slam into the stone wall. I have a hard head, but my hat is crumpled. That makes me even angrier as I sit up swearing.
“I could kill you for that, but it would be too fast,” says Maldamien. He walks over to the door and opens it. “Guard, take him back to his cell.”
The boar-faced Ogre steps in and grabs the back of my waistcoat. He drags me to my feet. I put my crushed hat back on as he shoves me out of the door. I catch a glimpse of Maldamien’s perverse pleasure at my torment before I leave. All I can do is growl under my breath.
The Ogre shoves, jostles, and kicks me all the way to my cell. I mentally swear at Maldamien, and then at Sage, and then at Bladderwrack. Since I am still angry, I go through the circle a second time for good measure. The hanging is due in less than an hour. That has my nerves on edge.
In the cell, I can’t sit still, so I pace. A nomad soldier comes to the cell only thirty minutes later. He binds my hands behind my back. He then leads me out of the cell and up the narrow steps to a door that leads outside.
The sky is beginning to darken as I walk through the door to a crowd of observers gathered in the open field south of the palace ruins. To the right of the wooden platform and gallows stands legions of soldiers in formation. In front of the gallows, thousands of observers from all the countries congregate. Behind us is the decorated wooden bleachers full of wealthy nobility with a colorful cloth awning giving them shade from the diminishing sun. Banners hang on wood poles scattered around the field. The crowd divides before me as I trudge to the stage.
I climb the six wooden steps up to the platform. A rope hangs down from a wooden beam overhead. I am lined up on top of a trap door. Two extra trap doors lay next to me. Apparently, Maldamien is prepared for last-minute additions. A noose is placed my neck. It’s nerve breaking. I can smell death. I can’t take it anymore. I struggle as hard as I can, but what can I do against my tall captors without my magic? I honestly have never been so close to death before, and I don’t like the look of it.
At that moment, a magnificent voice shouts over the crowd. “Death to the tyrant, and long live a free Gryphendale!”
It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. I look up to see Sage standing on the western wall of the Yarrow ruins with his curved sword drawn and held over his head. With the sunset behind him, I’m sure I’m staring at a picture from an old book of legends. My old heart leaps up into my throat.
Part of the crowd cheers while others scream or hiss. The entire valley erupts in chaos. Captains of nearly every group of soldiers bark out commands. Sage jumps down from the Yarrow ruins. A mass chase ensues as troops from everywhere try to converge on Sage.
Maldamien emerges from the outpost with a huge grin. He moves impossibly fast as Sage runs into the woods to the west. In a moment, Maldamien is in front of the charging troops. A mass of soldiers follows both Sage and Maldamien at a full run. As they disappear into the woods, Maldamien is gaining with his magically enhanced speed. I can see wind, water, rocks, and debris whirl up as Maldamien calls his magic to destroy Sage.
“Oh, Sage!” I exclaim. “May your stars line up, and your luck hold out!”
I feel the hands of Jackson cutting through the ropes around my wrist as the Nomad in charge of the hanging comes to his senses. He gives the order to pull the trap door. Ice spikes fly through the air and cut the rope above my head. I fall to the ground as the trap door drops. It’s quite a fall, but I roll over quickly. I have no desire to wait around to get caught again. Jackson jumps down next to me.
“To the wagon!” he shouts and points to my left. We run blindly where he points. I can hear screaming and swords clashing as we run out from under the wooden platform. Wind is blowing in every direction. Jackson waves his arm as rocks fly through the air around him hitting soldiers and clearing his path.
Toble drives the cursed Ogre wagon at full speed through the crowd. Everyone in the crowd has the sense to move out of the way of the four galloping horses. Jackson creates a storm of wind surrounding the wagon as we climb into the back as fast as we can. Sticks, rock, debris, and even people fly in all directions as though we are in the eye of a hurricane. Jackson jumps up next to Toble.
“We’re in!” he shouts.
“Yah!” shouts Toble as he flicks the reins and drives the wagon through the rest of the crowd down the road towards the river.
“What about Sage, Zachery, and Bladderwrack?” I ask Jackson.
Jackson and Toble are too busy with those chasing us to deal with the sixteen Ogres trying to blockade the wagon with huge rocks and their bodies.
“Puck, we need some magic!” shouts Jackson as we draw closer to the soldiers on the road. Toble isn’t slowing down.
“I can’t! My wrists are cut,” I shout.
“Puck, take the reins!” shouts Toble. “I’ll deal with the blockade then.”
I climb to the driver’s seat and take the reins, Bladderwrack with Soul’s Bane drawn steps into the road in front of us. She is dressed in Ogre armor which confuses the Ogres at the blockade. Before I can blink, she cuts down six Ogres her size with a swing and slash of her sword.
I slow the wagon just enough for her to finish. I’ve never seen anyone fight like that. She doesn’t waste a move as she fights in a blur of speed. Her lightness and flexibility resemble a dancer using her full range of motion.
Jackson focuses his storm on the mass of soldiers closing in behind us. Toble waves his arms causing trees and vines to sprout up through the rock blockage, pushing it apart just as we drive through. Bladderwrack stabs and swings, killing the last ten Ogres before grabbing onto the back of the wagon as we pass. She climbs in.
“Maldamien went after Sage!” she shouts as she sits in the wagon. “That wasn’t the plan. I was supposed to keep him busy.”
“He can take care of himself!” shouts Toble. He and Jackson are standing in the wagon maintaining their spells to stop our pursuers. “Stick with the plan.”
“It was a trap from the beginning!” I shout as I navigate the obstacles in the dirt road. The wagon rocks wildly as we make a sharp turn to the right towards the river.
“Everything is a trap,” says Toble as he continues to grow plants and obstructions in the road behind us. “Don’t worry about him.”
I have to trust him. We’re coming up to the river quickly.
“How close are they?” I shout. “I can’t help with the river either. Where is Zachery?”
“Don’t stop!” shouts Toble. “The whole camp is on our tail and nearly touching us.”
“What am supposed to do!” I shout. “Drive the wagon into the river?”
“The faster, the better!” shouts Zachery. I glance over my should to the left, and there he sits on top of a giant salamander with a beat-up Sage right behind him. The enormous slimy creature can really move. They must have caught up with us right after the turn.
I drive the wagon into the edge of the river. The water dives and splashes over us creating a bubble of water as we move forward. Suddenly, the wheel of the wagon breaks, and we lurch forward.
“Unhitch the horses!” shouts Toble.
Bladderwrack pulls out her dagger and cuts the horses free. Toble climbs onto a horse. Bladderwrack picks me up to help me onto another horse.
“I don’t do horses with my hooves!” I shout.
“Sage, take the reins!” Sage reaches around Zachery’s waist and takes the reins as Zachery stretches out his arms to focus his water magic on the bubble. “Move it, people! I can’t do this all day!”
“It isn’t like you are doing it alone!” shouts Jackson as he takes flight with his moth wings.
Bladderwrack shrugs and then tosses me over her shoulder like a bag of wheat. Toble grabs the reins of the last three horses. Bladderwrack runs behind Toble’s horse. I make sure she hears me swear at her. The group races forward following Zachery’s salamander along the river bed. Toble uses some of his Dryad magic to make grass sprout in a path before us, so the horses don’t slip.
The moving water bubble is a unique and disconcerting experience especially as Jackson and Zachery continually complain how hard it is. We travel as quickly as we can, but the bubble shrinks noticeably as time passes. The horses have been conditioned to this task and trot as they should with the nice green grass before them, but the smaller breathable space motivates us to move even faster.
“We need a little space!” shouts Toble as his shoulder hits the edge of the bubble splashing water on him. The horse is picking up speed.
“You’re lucky you aren’t swimming yet!” growls Jackson. His outstretched arms are trembling with the effort.
We come upon the cave tunnel leading to the Undine palace in just under an hour. The tunnel slopes upwards and the magical bubble is barely keeping us out of the water as we travel up it. My head dunks under the water periodically as Bladderwrack runs behind everyone. We emerge at the top of a stone platform that forms the above-water entrance into the subterranean Undine Palace.
King Martin is anxiously waiting for us with ten of his armored soldiers on the platform. The middle-aged king paces in front of the mosaic entrance to the palace itself. The open entrance hallway with tiled floors functions as an ornate transition from the river to the palace doors. King Martin stops his anxious exercise when he sees us.
We collapse once we reach him. Jackson is trembling all over with the effects of exhausting his magic. Zachery and Toble are not in much better shape. Bladderwrack drops me on the hard stone floor and then bends over breathing hard from the run. I find it painful to breathe with my bruised ribs from Bladderwrack’s armor.
“I can’t believe you all made it alive!” exclaims King Martin. He immediately greets Sage and the rest of us. The soldiers help with the salamander and horses.
“Did you get the relic?” asks King Martin. “I hope you aren’t bringing Maldamien’s army to my doorstep without the Cerulean Pedant. Were you successful?”
I get up and dig in the pocket of my orange waistcoat. “Here it is,” I announce pulling the blue bauble from the pocket by its golden chain. I hold up my trophy for all to see. That damned thing took a lot of work to get.
“By the Gryphon’s magic!” exclaims the king as he carefully takes the pendant from my hands.
“That’s fantastic!” says Jackson. “I didn’t think the plan would work. I was pretty sure Sage was drunk when he suggested it. When you let yourself get captured, I was certain there was no way Maldamien would fall for it.”
“When did you get it?” asks Bladderwrack.
“Maldamien invited me into his office to gloat,” I explain. “He bated me until I tried to wring his neck. I had to let my emotions run wild, but I have always been a method actor at heart. Since that was the response he wanted from me, he didn’t notice the performance. Then he knocked me across the room which helped him feel in control of the situation. The whole thing was long enough to pocket the relic.” I bow and sweep off my squashed top hat to the cheers of my friends. As I stand up again, I add, “By the way, Sage, you have another idea like that, and I’ll launch a fireball into your face.”
Sage tries to smile with his busted lip.
With the promise of food from the king, we stand and follow slowly and weakly. We travel with the Undine king down the mosaic-lined entrance through grand wooden doors into the glittering palace. Uniformed servants greet us as heroes and immediately set to work fulfilling the king’s commands for our care. As we are led upstairs to our new rooms to clean up, I notice about a third of Sage’s fox tail was burned off. He is covered with scrapes, cuts, and bruises as well.
“How did you get away?” I ask him as I point to his tail.
“Maldamien moved fast, and I had to slow down so he would slow down. He stepped right into a spring tree noose trap as he was shooting me with fireballs. When he was dangling from an oak tree, I got away. He can’t do magic upside down either. I only had to jump into the river to escape the Ogres after that, and Zachery picked me up with his salamander.”
A simple noose trap. Ha! The most powerful Warlock of our time was outwitted by a non-magic scoundrel just like I warned him. I should add prophet to my resume!
THE END
Check out my young adult fantasy fiction novels HERE for something optimistic and fun.
If you like this article, consider subscribing to my quarterly newsletter.
What do you think?