A small boy walked alongside a gargantuan white snail, whistling a merry tune. The two were walking down a valley, towards the village of Shallowpoint.

Rikki was quite familiar with the village. He had cousins and uncles there, and he used to visit once or twice a year. It was a small village — with fewer than a dozen families. It seemed to have grown since his last visit. He could spot a few unfamiliar houses in the distance — and the village was now surrounded by a wooden palisade.

Around a quarter of a mile from their destination, the village’s wooden gates opened. A solitary guard went up to meet them — someone Rikki recognized from his previous visits. He stepped forward, meeting him a few steps away from Shelby.

“Uncle Nolan? Is that you?” he asked. “It’s me, Rikki.” The man wasn’t really his uncle — but he called everyone in the village uncle or aunt as a sign of respect.

The man paused — scrutinizing him while glancing at the gargantuan snail behind him a few times. “That your ride?”

“She’s Shelby,” Rikki said while taking a rolled-up parchment from his pack. “It’s all official, the Duke put a stamp on it at the bottom. You can have it authen— uhm… checked.”

He offered the missive, which Nolan took. The village guard scanned its content and stared at him strangely.

“It says the snail is the Scourge’s companion,” he frowned. “What the hell did you do to earn such a title, boy?”

“I’m not the Scourge,” Rikki smiled awkwardly. “I work for him with my cousins. You remember Dylan and Warren?”

“Wentworth’s kid? I think he came by with pots and pans last winter.”

“He goes by Warden now. He’s kind of our leader.”

“And the snail?”

“Shelby’s friendly,” he reassured Nolan. “The duke sent the Scourge here to deal with a curse problem. He sent us to the village while he searched for clues outside.”

“Aye, lad, the village is cursed.” Nolan shook his head, “Our nights are plagued with evil dreams. Ghosts and demons accompany us in our sleep. Some of us took to sleeping at noon, after tending to the crops, to keep vigil against the darkness.”

“Where did the curse come from?” Rikki asked as they paused by the gate.

The old guard gave the duke’s missive to his companions to inspect. After a brief but spirited discussion — they reluctantly agreed to let Shelby come inside as long as he kept her by his side.

Rikki thought it was preposterous, but chose to remain silent. Shelby wasn’t a fierce dog to be tied to a leash. If she was, she could probably level the village without much effort. She was easy to get along with — unlike Staffany.

He was glad Staffany didn’t come along. The golem was problematic, to say the least. He was too touchy — which meant a lot of screaming, frothing at the mouth, and fainting. Strangely enough, Shelby kept saying she was with the Scourge, though he hadn’t seen a sign of him. He wasn’t really bad — but there was definitely something wrong with him.

Nolan came back to him after his brief discussion with the other guards. He offered him a chair while the rest of the guards informed the villagers about Shelby.

“The village was cursed by a witch” he explained, his voice turning somber. “One of our hunters strayed too far and mistakenly killed one of her lambs. Ever since then, more and more villagers have been losing sleep — plagued by nightmares sent by the witch.”

“What happened to the hunter?” Rikki asked, a bit concerned.

“The curse hit Silus the hardest,” Nolan sighed. “He barely leaves his house — afraid the witch’s servants would get to him.”

“The witch’s servants?”

“Aye lad, spirits of the dead rise to her beckoning. Wraiths that would chill your blood with a touch.”

Rikki couldn’t help but snicker. The wraiths Nolan was talking about sounded a lot like Staffany. His touch more than chilled the blood — there was a lot more thrashing and screaming involved.

“So what are your plans,” Nolan asked.

“I’ll be staying with Aunt Saya until Mister Scourge contacts me,” he answered. “Don’t worry, Uncle Nolan. Curses shouldn’t be a problem for Mister Scourge. He’s dealt with spies, cultists, demons, ice monsters, even a fire — though he did burn down a quarter of a district to stop it.”

Nolan gave him a confused look before finally nodding. He told him to walk slowly and make sure Shelby didn’t rattle the villagers before going back to his post.

Guards at Shallowpoint. It was a strange development. Everyone in the village was a farmer. They didn’t even have a smith to make horseshoes. Now, they had guards? He should probably note that on his report later.

A few villagers greeted him as he passed by, wary of the gargantuan snail beside him. Children his age were less afraid of Shelby, but most of them were held back by their parents. Of course, a few of them managed to avoid detection or escape from their grasp — six of them, one of whom was his cousin. They were now sitting and climbing on Shelby’s shell as she glided.

Of course, there was the usual screaming and fainting. Rikki couldn’t fault them — a snail that was bigger than most of the houses in the village was a bit imposing.

Once they were at their destination, Rikki pulled a ball from his pack and gave it to the children. It was a bit different than the one they used in the Corner Shop — this one was hollow and it was also enchanted to keep its form.

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After showing them how to play with the ball, he bade the children goodbye and went inside while Shelby kept watch.

“Da should be happy to see you, Rikki,” chirped Heron.

His cousin was still the same cheerful boy he remembered. Rikki gave Shelby a reassuring tap before entering the house.

There was the usual conversation, food, and bonding. It gave him a bit of normalcy after the strangeness of the Corner Shop and working for the Scourge.

He left the house after sundown. Shelby allowed him to climb on her shell, and together they phased through the ground. They were supposed to meet outside the village — and Shelby would know where to go.

It was an itchy trip. Thankfully, it didn’t last long. Rikki imagined the rocks and dirt passing through his body, wondering what would happen if Shelby suddenly lost concentration.

They arrived at a nearby copse of trees, where Jeremy was eating a sandwich. He immediately smiled upon seeing them.

“So what did you find out?”

“Something about nightmares,” Rikki answered. “They said a witch cursed them — and also, the witch might have ghosts and wraiths under her command.”

“Is that all?”

“Th-the palisade,” he hesitated. “The village is too small and too isolated to have one — but it feels right.

“You did good work,” the wizard patted him on the head. “I didn’t sense magic that involved resonance or curses — but just to be safe, take this.”

Jeremy offered him a dagger.

Rikki hesitated, thinking it was too dangerous for a boy like him to carry a weapon. His mother always told him not to play with sharp things.

“Take it.”

He took the dagger, pulling it out of its scabbard. It had a strange blade, thicker than most and almost without an edge.

“Hopefully, you shouldn’t need to use it.”

Rikki hoped the same, feeling the dagger’s edge. It was rounded — a child’s toy.

***

It didn’t make sense. The villagers had no traces of curses or spells of any kind. His bond with Shelby allowed him to see through her eyes — or her earthsense — for that matter. There were no enchantments on the villagers or the village itself — at least not the places Rikki and Shelby walked upon. There was something sinister in the village, but its kind wasn’t the cursing type.

If it was the work of a witch, then she was probably more knowledgeable about curses than he was or more subtle in her applications. It was intriguing and Jeremy always liked mysteries.

It was time to pay the witch a visit. Fortunately, the villagers were correct about the wraiths under her command. He could detect a few of them a couple of miles north — a short ride away now that he had Shelby.

She offered to phase through the ground to avoid detection — but he wanted to see the wraiths up close.

Jeremy climbed to his favorite nook and pulled down his skull mask “Let’s go, Shelby.”

They glided over rolling hills and quaint plains. Wraiths were easy to detect. They were a blight on the land that sucked the life of everything they touched — like babies and children until a certain age.

There were little of the signs he expected to find — dried up trees, blighted ground, and ghostly specters of the recently dead. He did notice the presence of a ward when he neared the witch’s home.

The first wraith appeared once they crossed the ward’s boundary. It glided towards them, either drawn by their presence or commanded by someone.

“We should stop here, Shelby,” he asked politely. Even incorporeal, the wraith would not last a few rounds against the snail and he didn’t want to raise the ire of its mistress — for the moment.

The wraith stopped a few steps away from them. He was about to speak when the spirit bowed in respect.

“This one greets the Lord of Death.”

Jeremy frowned. The spirit’s reaction seemed to have something to do with his life ward, the scythe he was carrying, or his skull mask. Whatever it was, he was not going to let such an opportunity go to waste.

“Take me to your mistress — or the one who bound you here.”

“As you wish.”

The wraith sped like the ghost that it was, passing through trees and other obstacles. Shelby kept pace, moving the earth to make space when needed.

It was hard not to notice the wraith leading them stealing glances at Shelby. There was hunger in its eyes, a craving for the life of others. They would probably have a bigger problem once they were among more wraiths. Jeremy wasn’t even sure if the one leading them was sincere or just leading them to a trap.

Fortunately, familiar bonds had their perks. He extended his life ward to encompass Shelby, giving her the same aura of death that he had.

The wraith stopped looking back, and the others they passed on the road paid them no heed.

They soon arrived at a clearing. A tower of ivory stood there — and at the same time did not. A trick of the light or more likely an enchantment that deceived the eyes.

Jeremy’s connection to Shelby allowed him to see the tower as it is with earthsense, but now he needed something less jarring.

Seeing through the eyes of his familiar was fine to a certain degree — but it was disconcerting. Dignity was essential to any wizard. Fumbling around like an idiot would certainly not do.

Much better. He could now see the tower clearly, and his vision extended to everything around him. The wraiths became a bit more difficult to see — though he could make out several of them converging towards their location.

He knocked on the door.

“Excuse me, do you have time to talk about curses and stuff — particularly the one you put on the village of Shallowpoint?”

Jeremy didn’t need to raise his voice — the skull mask amplified his thought, sending his question directly into the minds of anyone within fifty steps.

“I didn’t curse the village,” the door opened, revealing a young woman. “If I did, they’d all be dead.”

She was silently casting a spell, using her hands to draw her spell matrix while talking. It was difficult to do, but quite obvious to Jeremy’s chiropteran senses.

He smiled at the wily necromancer and opened the conduit in his soul by a fraction — flooding the area with infernal mana and demonic thoughts.

“If you’re done playing around, we should talk,” he suggested. “Or we could play around for a bit longer before we talk.”

“My apologies,” the woman gasped, reeling from the backlash of having her spell torn so easily as well as the barrage of malevolence. “I didn’t know you were a fellow necromancer.”

“I’m not.” Jeremy corrected. “I’m more of an exterminator.”