7

Illusions

Bax Tumbleweed poked at the demon's corpse with a stick. He lifted the eyeless head and then let it roll back to where it lay in the mud.

"Do these things have a pulse or something? This one still looks like it's about to jump up."

Scorpion knelt down and placed the back of his paw on its throat. "Shit, I don't know. They don't have a pulse when they're dead, but I'm not going to check a live one."

"Pfft!" Bax pressed his lips together and blew. An annoying habit he had when he was thinking. "Are we almost back? I don't know these roads yet."

"Another mile." Scorpion sheathed his dagger and scurried atop a small crop of rock. He looked south earnestly and then quickly north. "Damn!" He dropped over the side of the mound, skidding to a stop next to the gnome and pulled him off the road.

"Someone is coming from the north. A small group. Wait here."

With that he climbed back to the top of the mound at running speed, keeping his head lower than the first time. After a minute he whispered back. "Not demons... it's Cricket."

"Heh, I'll show him." Bax rolled back his sleeves and began to wave his stick in the air like a wand.

"No. Cricket's on our side.

"Hmm? Oh..." the gnome frowned. His bushy brows drooped low, half-covering his eyes. He stuck the end of his stick in the mud and placed both stubby hands atop, waiting patiently.

"Where'd you get that anyway?" Scorpion still whispered.

"What?"

"That stick. Aren't any sticks down here."

"Oh, I didn't really. I just made it up."

Scorpion's lip curled in confusion, revealing his tiny yellow teeth.

The gnome noted his bewilderment and clarified, "It's an illusion."

Scorpion scratched his snout. "I saw you use it to poke the demon, to see if he was dead."

"Also a deception. I made you think I poked it."

"Why?" Scorpion blurted. "Wasn't the whole point to see if it was dead."

"Well, I couldn't very well do that without a stick, could I?"

The ratling growled and dropped the conversation. A moment later he waved from the top of the rock toward Cricket and the others, signaling for them to move off the road."

Seeing the ratling's signal the insect pulled the others aside, and rounded the crop of rock from the rear.

Cricket waved excitedly when he approached, then grimaced. He whispered, "We're just getting back from a mission. We've been gone a couple days. Do you know what's going on?"

"We're just on our way back as well," Scorpion answered.

"You haven't been to the Warrens? We're worried it's been attacked."

"Well, I haven't. But I can assure you it's been attacked."

"Is it just the two of you?" Jesh asked.

"Only the two of us now," the gnome answered sadly. "Used to be four of us."

"That's not true," Scorpion snapped. "Ty'lek is scouting up ahead."

"Right, I meant just the two of us at present."

"Well, that's not what it sounded like. And there were never four of us."

The gnome huffed indignantly, then stated, staring at Cricket, "I made an illusory lizardman, and he followed us for most of the trip for company."

"An illusion only you could see. That's called a hallucination."

"I can't very well be expected to know what everyone else can see! Once I could see him, I thought I'd done a good job. No use pouring extra energy into a spell that's doing its job!"

Scorpion and the gnome glared at each other for a moment, and then the gnome extended his hand to the druid. "Barden Thistlewort, at your service. Friends call me Bard."

"That's not what you told me your name was," Cricket said.

"Hmm? What did I say?"

"I don't remember. But it wasn't Barden."

"He told me his name was Bradley," Scorpion added.

"Well," the gnome replied with a huff, stroking his beard. "It's not Bradley." He glared at the ratling again, a bit offended. "But maybe it's not Barden either. But that sounds close, doesn’t it?"

Ty'lek appeared in the shadows from the south. When he saw Cricket and Oydd he smiled, curling the back of his beak, and sprinted the last few yards.

The azaeri signaled something to the ratling, then realized his gestures were not enough, and struggled to explain in common.

"Et... etten."

"Eight," Scorpion asked and the archer shook his head. "Eighteen?"

Ty'lek nodded.

"Eighteen at the Warrens?"

Ty'lek nodded again and the ratling growled. "We can't take eighteen."

The azaeri made a quick hand gesture, pointing back behind him. The ratling translated. "At least eighteen."

"Let me read his mind," Oydd suggested and reached out telepathically, but the azaeri squinched his eyes and forced him out.

Scorpion laughed. "He doesn't want you to read his mind."

"Well why not?" Oydd asked irately.

"You never have before," Cricket pointed out. "I think he's worried how his voice will sound."

"Well it's not going to be worse than those chirps and clicks."

Ty'lek scowled at the rudra and eventually Oydd relented. "Fine. Was there anything else to report?"

"Eyrgan," Ty'lek pronounced cleanly, then held a talon to his throat and dragged it across the skin.

"And his men?" Oydd asked.

Ty'lek shook his head gravely.

Oydd looked to Cricket. "That's at least forty dhampiri. More depending on how many were out on patrol.

"I don't sense any life," Jeshu added.

"Well there are plenty of those demons running around," Scorpion spat.

"I only mean that I can't sense them. Our own I would be able to feel. If any are alive, it is faint."

"Have you seen the mouseling?" Oydd demanded.

Scorpion shook his head. "I'm sorry. I haven't seen anyone since I got back. Didn't much pay attention who was out when I left."

"Don't worry. She is not so easy to catch,” Jeshu assured the rudra. “And she has tunnels all over the Warrens to hide in."

This did little to calm Oydd. He clenched his beak tight and one of his tentacles twitched.

"So we're going in?" Cricket replied.

"What?" Oydd snapped. "What conversation were you listening to?"

"Oh... okay, I wasn't listening to you guys much. I was thinking about Jade's weapons. Eyrgan was always wearing them. So it seems like a priority to retrieve them."

"Well, it's not worth it if it gets us all killed.

"I think it's worth it if it gets us all killed."

Oydd sighed. "I sincerely hope you worded that wrong."

Cricket stroked his feelers. "I think it's worth a shot, and we should try not to get killed?"

"We need to find the mouseling," Jeshu joined. "I'm willing to take some risks to see if she's safe."

"We'll do reconnaissance!" Barden interjected. "I'll send an illusion in."

"You can see through the eyes of your illusions?" Oydd asked, impressed.

"Not a bit!" the gnome replied.

"Then how would that help us?" Jeshu asked politely.

"It's decided then." Barden cracked his knuckles and raised his illusory stick.

"Hold on a moment," Jesh said. "Can you make Skunk look like one of those demons? Oydd, are you able to see through Skunk's eyes?"

"Not as well as a ghoul, but I'm improving. We would need to get a little closer."

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"But it is settled, right?" the gnome asked.

"No, it is not." Oydd answered.

"I make Skunk," the gnome pointed at Cricket, "look like one of these folk." He pointed at the dead demon.

"No..." the druid shook his head. "But are you able to?"

"I already did!"

Oydd looked Cricket over from head to toe and sighed. "I don't have time to deal with a mad gnome. We'll need another plan."

"Hmm..." Bard sulked. "I can infer by your tone that he doesn't look like a demon yet, but let me just pour in a little more magic."

"Wait," Jeshu said. "Not Cricket. We want you to disguise this one." The druid pointed at the mutant.

Midspell the gnome turned and began waving his stick at Skunk. "Say when?"

"What do you mean say when?" Oydd asked, exasperated.

"He already looks like a demon to me. Just let me know when he does to everyone else."

Oydd grumbled, but then before his eyes, black plates began to form on Skunk's skin, down his back and along his tail. His eyes darkened and melted into his face, and soon the mutant nearly resembled one of the demons.

Oydd stammered, "That's remarkable! You forgot the wings though."

Slowly tiny wings sprouted from the demon's back.

Oydd's tone changed to one of curiosity. "Why do you do it in steps like that?"

"If I try to change it all at once, your eyes won't believe it. It's best in steps."

"But anyone arriving just now, would they see Skunk or a demon?"

Cricket groaned in discomfort. "Don't call it that..."

"Don't call it what?" Oydd asked.

"Don't call it Skunk."

The rudra stared at him in confusion for a moment, then turned back to Barden. "Will this spell stay with him? How long will it last?"

"He should look like this to just about anyone. Assuming you see what I see. As for duration..." the gnome stroked his sandy beard again, "perhaps a day."

"Well excellent," Oydd clapped his hands and stood before the mutant. "Skunk, you understand? We need you to scout around inside the Warrens without drawing much attention."

Skunk made no sign of acknowledgment.

"Check my laboratory, and then the barracks. If we lose contact, return here and report."

This time the mutant lowered his head and let out a long deliberate moan.

"What about his scent?" Jeshu asked.

"I don't think they hunt by smell," Oydd said. "But will he sound like a demon?"

"Not much of a wolf if it sounds like a squirrel!" the gnome sang. Then, seeing the bewildered looks of his companions, he added, "Something Pappy used to say. One of the first things you learn in this craft is to mimic sounds. It will sound how it looks. Perhaps as accurately as it looks. Sound is a specialty of mine. Not to brag too humbly."

The group began the short trek southward, keeping to the rocks and gullies for cover. When the Warrens came within view, Cricket found a suitable spot to conceal the party and then Oydd sent the mutant out alone. He took off on all fours, but then slowed as he neared the stables.

"The stables are in ruins,” Oydd reported. “I see three dead kor hounds."

"We only had three," Cricket replied sadly, having a fondness for the squat lizards.

"I don't see any dead raptors. But that could just mean they ran."

"Yeah," Cricket said. "The kor hounds weren't surprisingly good at their job. They just got excited when they saw strangers and wanted to play. You could get them a little fierce if you starved them, but then they'd get lazy."

Oydd groaned softly. "It is... a scene of carnage. The attendants must have been working when the demons attacked. I see dead ubo, insectoids, and goblins. Dozens of goblins."

"Where are you?" Cricket asked.

"Just past the stables. He's moving slowly. I don't want to draw attention."

Cricket poked his head above the crop of rock and the gnome followed.

From a distance, Cricket made out several large, black forms hulking about. More than one in the general direction of the laboratory.

"Which one is he?" he whispered.

"How should I know?"

"You mean you can't tell which one is your illusion?"

"Of course not!" Barden mocked offense. "I'm no amateur!"

"Quiet," Jeshu cautioned.

The gnome slapped a hand over his mouth, then strained with all his effort to whisper. "If I don't believe it, it won't fool anyone else. You have to have doubt to be a good illusionist."

"You don't mean confidence?"

"Oh, no! That would never work. Reality doesn't have much confidence to it. Lots of doubt and confusion. If I try to force you to believe something, then you're likely to believe what's true. If I'm trying to trick you, then it needs to be confusing, obviously..."

Cricket slid down the rock face and slumped on the ground next to Oydd.

"You know, I think we need a name for these demons. Too many things are just called demons."

"And I suppose you think you should be the one to name them," Oydd said dryly. "What would you call them? Zits? Warts?"

"No, no... I wanted to pick something in rudric, so you'd like it."

"You don't speak rudric."

"But you do. I liked dethkiri."

Oydd snapped to attention. "When did I say that?"

"You didn't. You thought it earlier."

"I think in rudric?"

"Only sometimes," Cricket said. "When you're... really focused."

"Dethkiri..." Oydd repeated. "I remember thinking that. It means from the silence."

"I know. It also sounds cool."

"Deth, in rudric means silence, but also Sheol. I wondered if these creatures literally came from Sheol. Otherwise we would have seen them before. And they don't read as creature's of Agoth to me. I think they may have come from deeper."

Cricket nodded. "From the silence."

"That is my theory."

"You called Sheol the still darkness earlier," Jeshu interjected. "I remember."

"A different language," Oydd clarified. "Quiet, or still, or empty. But all describe it as dark. And these beings seem to have evolved in darkness."

"When I saw Naraka, after you killed him," Jeshu began, "I somehow thought he was the only dethkiri."

Oydd cringed. "The singular would be dethkirok. "Also, that doesn't make sense. How would there be only one?"

"Pardon," Jeshu said. "Since demonic power can taint a lifeform, I have found some such abominations to be... singular."

"Aberrations," Oydd corrected.

"What?"

"I don't like the word abomination. The ignorant use it to describe things they don't understand. So aberration, a deviation from the expected... is a better word choice." Oydd paused and waved the others silent. "I see the door to my lab. But I also see the commons. I... know many of the faces here."

"Dead?" Cricket asked.

"Yes. I... I am going to get closer. I had mostly seen dhampiri until now, but the barracks are a bloodbath." Oydd began to shake. "I see the azaeri."

Ty'lek perked up.

Cricket hung his head. "Aka'su."

"He is dead," Oydd confirmed. "I see the dryad girl, Yentl."

"And Zarachi?" Cricket asked.

"The older dryad? I don't see him. The demons are eating the dead, which makes it difficult to tell who is who among the ratlings and lizardmen." The rudra turned to Scorpion. "Do you know anyone else who was out on a mission before you left?"

Scorpion thought back. "Only Dairdin and a few of his men. But they should have returned by now. Maybe... Eyrgan would have left for patrol when Dairdin returned. So if the commander is dead..."

"Then maybe Dairdin is still alive. Not that that benefits us," Oydd spat. Suddenly his brow knotted. "I'm in the hallway to the laboratory, but it's been blocked by rubble."

"What kind of rubble?" Cricket asked. "Like a cave-in?"

"No... like a barricade. Bookshelves and tables. Even a few bodies. It looks difficult to remove."

"So someone is holed up in there?" Cricket suggested hopefully.

"Patches couldn't very well move anything that large. I wouldn't jump to conclusions."

"You said she had tunnels all over the place, just small enough for her?" the gnome asked.

"You know the mouseling?" Oydd responded. "Yes. She is... resourceful."

"Then, may I propose we shrink one of us down. I'm thinking the bug. And then we make him invisible and he sneaks in at night, while the demons are sleeping and—"

"Are you able to shrink me down?" Cricket asked excitedly.

"Well no, not me." The gnome looked around. "Anyone? Azaeri, I'm looking at you..."

Ty'lek trilled in surprise.

"No? No one. Okay, new plan. Just the invisible part."

"Can you make me invisible?"

"I can make you invisible to me. Is that helpful?"

"Yes," Cricket chirped. "Do it now."

"We should wait until nightfall."

"That's not invisible enough," Oydd interrupted. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"You're just jealous." Cricket folded his arms. "Tell you what. We rock, paper, scissors for it. Winner gets to be invisible to Bard. But I'll warn you. I'm pretty good at scissors."

"You're missing the —"

"Rock, paper, scissors!"

In spite of himself, Oydd displayed a fist just as Cricket stuck out a hand with two fingers extended.

"I win anyway."

"Shoot! I underdelivered. But you should see me against paper! Jeshu, didn't I totally beat your paper with scissors?"

"It doesn't matter. I don't want to be invisible only to the gnome. We need a new plan."

"Well," Bard suggested, "I do have a couple potions of full invisibility, but I was saving them for an emergency."

"This is an emergency," Oydd scolded.

"Hold on, Oydd," Cricket interjected. "He only has two left."

"Does a couple mean two?" the gnome asked, surprised. "I thought it could mean three."

"Well, how many do you have?" Cricket asked.

"Four. But they don't last long."

"How long do they last?"

"About a minute. Give or take. You know the effect is over when you turn visible."

Oydd replied caustically, "I recommend we develop an alternate plan."

"You still sound jealous."

"I won the game!" the rudra snapped.

"But in real life, scissors beat rock. And I can make twice as many scissors as you can make rocks."

The gnome produced four small vials full of milky white draught. "It's okay. I can make these. So it's like we have an infinite number."

"Unlimited," Oydd corrected. "To make an infinite number, you would still require infinite time, and infinite materials. And what, may I ask, materials do you require?"

"Um... opals." The gnome scratched his bulbous nose. "Esper blood... About a year for the humors to ferment."

"Do you see how that is not infinite?" Oydd reprimanded.

"Well, if you always have a batch going..."

"The question was, do you see how that is not infinite?"

"Well... yes, but..."

Oydd grabbed a vial and held it up before his narrow eyes. He studied the shimmering, pearlescent liquid, then sighed. "These are remarkably made."

"Thank you." The gnome took a little bow.

Oydd handed the vial back then looked at Cricket. "One for you to get in. One for you to get out. The other two for any survivors you find."

Cricket beamed. "What do I do if anyone other than Bard sees me?"

"You weren't paying attention. These potions will make you invisible to everyone."

Cricket squealed.

"But... they only last a minute."

"At most," the gnome corrected.

"At most," Oydd repeated. "So you will have to hurry in and out. I will have Skunk begin to remove the debris. Regardless, we will wait until nightfall. And hopefully these things sleep —these... dethkiri."