Curse Of The Dark Wind (Book 6) (5 page)

“He will attack me as soon as he sees that I have it.”

Nyx gets a cord from her belt pouch and loops it through a hole in the Compass Key’s silver setting, turning it into a crude amulet. “I know you hate magic, but would you be willing to put your fear aside for the greater good? All I want to do is cast a spell on the Compass Key, so only the champions can see it. Very few people will think of seeing through such an illusion on you and my power will make it difficult for those that try.”

“I could lose it in combat.”

“I’ll make the cord unbreakable unless one of us unties it.”

“A magic weapon could sever such an item.”

“Then I’ll make a magic chain. It should only take a day to forge.”

“I do not want it.”

“Then what help are you?” Nyx snaps, regretting her words immediately. She lets her hand drop and the Compass Key clatters to the floor. “I’m sorry, Timoran. I shouldn’t have said that. Yet I do believe you’re the best one to take care of this thing. Our enemies wouldn’t expect you to have it and you’re not going to tamper with it like the rest of us. I also know your opinion on magic, so I won’t push anymore.”

The barbarian rises to his feet and approaches the half-elf, the large man reaching down to take the Compass Key off the floor. He turns it over in his hands and admires the beauty of the relic. He runs his thumb around the seven gems, feeling a gentle tug on his skin when he passes over the pearl. The barbarian smirks when he considers that he has felt pinpricks and splinters with more force than the Compass Key. The simple strap that Nyx has tied to it comes away at the slightest pull and he lets the cord fall to the ground. Feeling the weight of the object in his palm, Timoran puts his other hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“You are right,” he whispers, his blue eyes meeting her tear-filled gaze. The pair share a warm smile as he moves his hand to ruffle her hair. “I am the best one for this job and I need to get over my fear. It is clear that the champions will be gifted with magic. Perhaps it will do me some good to carry this. Though I believe a chain would be better than a leather strap.”

“Thank you, Timoran. I’ll make the illusions now and get to work on the chain right away.”

The barbarian nods in agreement, pausing when he remembers what happens when Nyx uses magic within the research room. She is already casting when he opens his mouth, the sudden taste of the anti-magic foam making him cough and gag as they are covered. The caster runs her hands through her short hair, averting her eyes from Timoran’s stern glare.

“I think I may have caused the security system to become overly sensitive,” she mutters with an awkward chuckle. She lifts the bottom of her shirt to let the foam out and removes her other boot, tossing it onto a nearby couch. “I’ll go talk to Willow and Cyril about this before I try again. Yeah, I’m really sorry about that.”

Timoran pats Nyx on the head and tucks the Compass Key into his bracer. “I wonder if this item is more dangerous in your hands than those of our enemies.”

*****

Once covered by the ruins of a lost civilization, the Island of Pallice has been steadily regenerating since it emerged from the ocean depths. Patches of forest have grown overnight and pools of fae water dot the landscape, the sparkling liquid having seeped from the core of the land. Sea elves have created several outposts along the rocky shore, which resemble simple huts that sit within the shallows. The stone pier has been repaired to allow Gaian researchers to arrive and explore the long lost island, the docks manned by a crotchety old female sea elf and her always happy daughter. Ogres still wander the island, but the hulking beasts have become docile after losing so many of their kin. The small group has been continually moving deeper into the growing forest, always hoping to claim the shadowy heart where they are sure to be left alone by their enemies. These dangerous creatures would have been wiped out by the fearful sea elves if not for the actions of their beloved Mistress of the Mountain.

Sari stands on a balcony high upon the solitary mountain of the island, its crystal peak touching the clouds. Her blue hair waves in the cold, winter wind, which goes unnoticed by the comfortable gypsy. She hops onto the icy railing of the balcony to get a better look at a group of dwarves who are examining the base of the mountain. She adjusts her brightly colored skirts as she cautiously watches the bearded visitors, their simple ship bobbing on the distant shore. Her emerald eyes narrow at the sight of a pickaxe being lifted. Holding her hands out, Sari gathers the collecting snow to make a large snowball. With an impish smile, she drops the soft projectile on the dwarves and buries them up to their necks.

“Don’t even think about mining my home!” she shouts down at them. She waves when they dig themselves out and bow to her. “If you want something then come through the front door and talk to me. Not that there’s anything of worth in this rock. It’s pretty, but worthless if you take it apart.”

“Shall I scare them off, mistress?” Risar says as he steps onto the balcony. The floor thickens to accommodate the slender ice giant, his body already sprouting intimidating spikes. “I have been in my small form for so long that I would not mind stretching my legs.”

“They have pickaxes and I don’t want them hurting you. It took me a week to revive you without any mistakes, Risar,” Sari answers, taking the giant’s clawed hand and hopping off the railing. She pats him on the wrist and walks into the mountain, casually passing between his spindly legs. “I doubt they’ll be a problem, so you may meet them at the door. You need to get used to being in charge when I’m gone. By the gods, I feel like royalty when I think about all of this. We need to talk to the sea elves and set up a small town for anyone who wishes to live here. Invite the homeless of Gaia and let them build their own city on the coast. The sea elves can teach them how to make a living off the sea.”

Risar nods his Draconic head as he lumbers behind the talkative champion. The giant is still unclear on what Sari has planned for the island, the gypsy having talked about building everything from a grand city to a single cabin. He sighs as he reminds himself that his new master is a little on the flakey side, but he does enjoy that she is focused so much on helping others. He grins at the thought that he was the first person she set out to help and reward for his loyal service.

“Thank you for making me the new guardian, mistress. It is a great honor that I will take very seriously. I am especially thankful for the new abilities that you gave me. Though I am unclear how you did so.”

“It’s rather simple,” Sari states, the barefoot gypsy padding her way through the warm hallways. She stops to touch a wall, creating an alcove with an ice sculpture of a lute-playing bard. “I rebuilt you and thought of giving you such abilities, so they appeared. A deep sensation of calm came over me and it felt like I was stitching your aura back together. I could grasp anything out of the ether to make you the perfect guardian. Nothing more complicated than that, my friend.”

“You do not know how you did it, do you?”

“Now you’re calling me out on my stories? I told you to stop talking to Nyx about me,” the gypsy says, shaking her finger at the giant. With a wry smile, she touches Risar’s knee and changes his body so he appears to be wearing a butler’s outfit. “Don’t forget that I can change you into whatever I want. Next time will be a dress with a frilly neckline.”

“I understand, mistress,” the guardian politely replies. He cocks his head to the side, sensing someone else within the mountain. “Luke Callindor has arrived on one of the lower floors. I believe he is heading for the upper dining room.”

“He must have changed forms too much again. Have a meal for four prepared and sent to the dining room as soon as possible. I don’t want him eating the furniture again.”

“Yes, mistress,” the guardian says with a bow. His body shivers as he melts into a puddle and oozes through the floor.

Sari hurries to a gaping archway that opens into darkness and she jumps onto the barely visible ice slide. With an excited shriek, she rockets through the ancient mountain with several dips and curves drawing her closer to the base. She relaxes with her hands behind her head while admiring the star-like crystals blurring above her head. A ramp appears before her and she rolls to her feet, balancing herself as she reaches the edge. Sari launches into the air, glancing down at the distant lake of shimmering fae water. She lands and slides into the gloom, a twist of the hips directing her around a sharp turn.

“I think I’m lost. Need to make a map one of these days.”

The champion whispers a gurgling word, creating a gentle upward slope in the slide that slows her down. When she comes to a full stop, Sari touches the nearest wall and a window opens into an empty hallway. It takes a minute for her to realize that she went too far down the mountain, a mermaid statue being close to her throne room instead of the dining room. With a stomp of her foot, Sari snaps the slide and her side of the platform rises toward the ceiling, which parts to let her through.

“Here we are,” she announces over the screech of ice running against the wall. A new portal appears across from a pair of double doors that are wide open. “Go back to where you have to be, Slidey.”

She is stepping into the hallway when a piercing whistle grabs her attention. Sari looks ahead at the slender, blonde half-elf excitedly waving his hands. Luke Callindor is beaming and she can see the sparkle of his green eyes as she reaches the dining hall’s entrance. The forest tracker is still wearing a dirt-stained shirt and pants, revealing that he has been working on the repairs of Gaia all day. The gypsy’s focus is swiftly caught by the mysterious ring in his hand, the dark yellow bauble held between his thumb and forefinger. She walks around the long table made of oak-colored ice, her hand running along the smooth top. With a clap of her hands, Sari causes a series of sapphire banners to unfurl from the ceiling and give some color to the small dining room.

“I got it,” Luke announces, slipping the ring onto his finger. He dashes forward and hugs Sari tightly, burying his face in her long hair. “It took me months of doing odd jobs, but I finally got a Feast Ring. I tested it yesterday and it worked, but I wanted to show you once it had time to recharge. The guy told me it can be used once a day to make a twelve person dinner, which is perfect when we’re traveling. Now I don’t have to worry about getting hungry when I transform too often. The only problem is that I didn’t get to choose the menu, so I’m at the whim of whoever made it.”

“That’s great,” Sari whispers, nuzzling the warrior’s neck and kissing the tip of his pointy ear. He goes limp and she eases him into a red ice chair, taking a deep breath after nearly being crushed by his full weight. “Let’s see this new toy work. I’ve never seen a Feast Ring in action.”

Luke jumps to his feet and points the jewelry at the table. “I shall not starve this day.”

A spark of magic spurts from the ring, but no food appears. The half-elf shakes the enchanted item and tries again, but all he gets is a numbing buzz up his arm. Sweat beads on his forehead and he nervously smirks at Sari, who politely covers his mouth before he can say the incantation again. Examining the plain ring, she can see that the faded images of a goblet and a cooked chicken etched into the metal. The pictures flicker and shift as if the magic creating them is too weak to exist.

“I have some good news and some bad news,” she tells Luke, putting her cool hands on his cheeks. The pained expression on her boyfriend’s face, pulls at her heart and she puts her forehead to his chest. “You have a Feast Ring, but it doesn’t recharge overnight. I think it takes a week to regain its power, but Nyx will be able to give you an exact time. I’m afraid you’ve been swindled out of your hard-earned money. I love that you’re so gullible, Luke.”

“Would it be wrong for a champion of Windemere to beat up a crooked vendor to get his money back?” the forest tracker asks with a crooked smile. “I can’t muster up a lot of anger at this for some reason.”

“Probably because your face is in my cleavage. I doubt any man could stay angry being there,” the gypsy says, running her hands through his tresses. She tries her best not to catch any of the knots in the strands, but she is sure she yanks out a few hairs. “Now that I think of it, you’ve been oddly attentive and cuddly since I returned and Kira went back to Bor’daruk. Is it because of me or are you desperate for any female attention?”

“I thought we settled this in Hero’s Gate,” Luke says, breaking from her grasp. He looks into her emerald eyes, unsure of what to say. “I know I spent most of my time with Kira and then came back to you when she left. I’m sorry that upset you, but I’m going to be with you as we travel. Kira doesn’t get much time with me. Also, I’m still sorry about killing Kayn and eating some of your furniture and-”

Sari snaps her fingers and locks the forest tracker’s lips with a clamp of ice. “I find it funny that you just compared killing my former partner with devouring my ice furniture. I hate to admit that I’m more upset about the furniture since Kayn was lost to me long ago. You put him out of his misery, Luke, and I hope you hold onto that thought. Don’t argue with me because I know you’ve been having trouble sleeping or whatever it is you do. It isn’t your meditation or the griffin spirit, but your guilt over taking a human life. There’s nothing you could have done and this is the path you chose long before we met.”

The half-elf patiently waits for his companion to remove the ice around his mouth, his lips turning blue. “Nice deflection back to me. I’ve been talking to Delvin about it and he’s been a great help. The guilt is a lot less than before and it’s more about Kayn being the only other survivor of your clan. Now about your anger towards Kira.”

“Calling him a survivor is being generous,” the gypsy declares, ignoring his attempt to change the topic. She rolls her eyes when Luke crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m fine with you and Kira. In fact, I support it because I get to spend more time with you while we battle the Baron. In order for her to have a fair chance at claiming you at the end of this, she needs equal time with you. I wouldn’t feel right if you ignored her. Though I wouldn’t really feel wrong either.”