Clarke covered his face with his hands, the smell of various chemicals intermingling in a scent unique to him with the added fragrance of the moss he'd been bagging in his pockets.
“Why...”
It had been only since last night that he'd left, several hours of quiet walking towards the one place he least liked to go. He did need a favor and there was one person he knew had the skills close by, even if it would cost him.
“Why are you here?”
The others, Wade with his face scrunched in a scowl, Alouella smiling to beat the rising sun, Gwen looking sheepish and Wormwood looking like he'd been sucking a lemon in the back of the cart, had all caught up. He had entertained the idea of diving off the side of the road but his choice of hiding places was limited to an empty ditch and a tree he could enclose his thumb and middle finger around. He grumbled and let them come to him.
“Mister Clarke.”
Wormwood hissed.
“Do you often run out on things you've agreed to do?”
“It was a noise! Where are you from that 'hm-mmm' is an agreement to anything?”
Gwen mouthed her apologies to him. Wade was a lot louder.
“And you tried to have a dwarf lie to us about where you were going! The most least wordly smart people around.”
“I didn't tell her to lie, you mouth breathing mace-hand. I was letting you all go back to your normal lives and getting on with my investigation.”
“Clarke!”
Alouella waggled her finger and he clapped his mouth shut. She turned to everyone in the cart, daring any further arguing, her hair rising around her and sparks flickering to bursts of light at the tips. No one dared.
Her hair smoothed itself down.
“The both of you are children. Get up here, Clarke.”
He did, hopping in the back beside Wormwood. The elf radiated a glower without actually looking his way, little waves of anger that warmed the air.
“Now, in order of importance, let's take stock. Gwen, what do you want to do?”
“Oh...just have crazy adventures. Clarke is my partner. I'll go where he goes.”
“And Wade?”
Wade crossed his arms, scowling off the side of the wagon. She slapped his arms apart and snapped her fingers for him to look at the rest of the group.
“I'm...I want to go with the...uh, Wormwood? Right? I'm helping him because Mr. Weatherworn might give me more work.”
“Mr. Wormwood?”
He relaxed, becoming his unsettlingly pleasant self once more.
“I was asked to extend my invitation for more work to Mr. Script. It's quickly becoming a geas.”
“And Clarke?”
“I'm looking for my kidnapped, imprisoned mother with the first clue I've had in almost a decade.”
Alouella smiled, nodding to each of them.
“And I want to help Clarke because it sounds like a worthy cause. So that makes three for and two opposed. Now, you two may stay and help and NOT sulk like children denied toys, and possibly hurry the adventure along or you can go home and wait for us. Which would you like? Are you going to be adults?”
Muttered agreement came from all those chastised.
“Good. Then set course for Greater Rens. Let's go see Mr. Sevin.”
Wade lay back, grumbling to himself.
“Yeah, okay. I'm not feeling so great so wake me when we get there...”
Clarke had to agree with him there. Walking through the night and the previous days excitement had left him tired. He pulled his hood up over his eyes and settled back.
-----------------------------------------------------
The night came and sleep claimed them shortly after setting up camp. Wormwood looked at each of them and, satisfied that he was the only one conscious, slipped away from the camp into the tall, dark grass.
Bugs scattered around him the further out he went until he felt safe enough to pull the small crystal from out one of his pockets. He traced a circle around the equator of it, touching three spots that looked no more special than any other on its face and inside he could see blackness. It swirled to grey, then an old elf's face appeared. Weatherworn looked out of the crystal, a little sleep in his eyes but awake.
“Sir. I'd like to report about that errand you sent me on. I didn't think you'd be asleep this late at night.”
He shook his head in the tiny ball.
“Of course, it's nothing. I'll sleep when I'm dead. Which may be getting closer the longer I'm made to wait.”
There was the dangerous edge in his voice that supplanted the usual friendliness.
“Of course sir. I have Clarke nearby but, and this is what I've gathered from going through his notebook while he was asleep, he's been chasing his kidnapped mother for years now and this is his first clue.”
“And this affects me how? Just kidnap him. I know you don't have a problem with abduction.”
“There are three other people here and I'm not sure I could get away from or kill them all if I did. Ones a famous boxer, another is that giant lout you hire occasionally and the third is a famous wizard. You've heard of Alouella Lawfer?”
His eyes brightened.
“Yes, I've met her. Lovely girl. Very inflexible on the law though. Even when the ends justify the means.”
“I've got those three and Clarke to deal with, chasing his mother, Aggatha. I don't know how long until I-”
“What? Aggatha Script?”
“Yes sir.”
There was a beat that stretched into its own song until he finally interrupted.
“Is that important?”
He could see the old man looking through his papers, knocking over stacks in his search and flipping through books furiously.
“It would appear so. I've changed my mind. Stay with them. Help them. Let me know everything they find, no matter how inconsequential. Understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“That will be all.”
The crystal slowly died down to reflecting nothing but moonlight and Wormwood went back to his bit of the ground. He hated adventuring. His home turf was the city, people he could reason with or bribe or easily stab in the back. Adventure sucked.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Clarke had woken early to the sounds of chirping, the sun still far from cresting the horizon. A heavy feeling in his gut tried to keep him down but nervous energy had him buzzing around, waking the others as gently as he could and ushering them to the cart. They all grumbled, groaning about tired bodies but he got them up and into the cart where they could fall asleep again, Wormwood napping against the back. Gwen lay out like a bear skin and Alouella lay against her, one arm over the dwarf belly and snuggling in her stomach like a pillow.
All but Wade who sat beside him, occasionally snapping the reins at the horse to keep himself awake. They didn't say anything for a few miles, which became tradition after so long and neither wanted to break it.
There might be things about his home he needed to know though and he'd rather know them sooner than later.
“So...how's your mother, Wade?”
Wade settled into himself, shoulders spreading out like hills.
“We're going to pretend to not hate each other even while Alouella's asleep?”
“We can hate each other and still talk about home.”
The reins snapped. Wade felt ill, either something he'd eaten at the inn or on the road. He was going to be uncomfortable either way.
“Mom's fine. Bakery is doing better than ever.”
“Good. She always did make the best pigs in blankets. Little sweet, little salty.”
“Yeah.”
They both stared straight ahead.
“Anything new?”
“Alouella's mom's magic school is doing real well.”
“Can't imagine your dad liked that.”
Wade shook his head.
“Hated it. Swore he'd see it burned to the ground with the rest of those dress wearing finger wigglers. Half the town was behind him at first. Then some of the locals got into her lessons. Then some elvish kids came in, brought some elven families. Things settled when everyone got used to it. Not friendly but tolerable.”
“Mmm.”
It wouldn't be long until the town came into view. Greater Rens was only a little over a day from the mountains at a steady pace.
“You ever tell anyone why you weren't quite so fired up about hating elves?”
Wade's hands tightened on the reins. He stiffened, eyes straight ahead.
“I was! But Alouella's message of peace and togetherness really spoke to me.”
“And it wasn't the book you found in the wreckage of that traveling merchant wagon that was caught in that blizzard so many years ago?”
Wade blushed fiercely, reaching over to slap at Clarke who dodged back from his reach.
“You don't...how do you even know-”
“With the drawings of pretty elven maidens and their long, sensual ea-”
“If you ever say ANYTHING about that I'll nail your toes to your head and roll you around town like a hoop. This was why everyone hated you, you always spit out everyone's secrets like they weren't secrets for a reason...”
“I just wanted you guys to remember. There's too much bad blood now anyway so I'm not looking for an apology. I just wasn't lying back then. I want you to at the very least know why I'm doing this.”
The sun peeked over the horizon, fields of waving corn turned gold and green in the breaking light. It almost seemed a little slower as it passed through the air and the atmosphere to roll over the land but this was purely in their sleepy minds.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“Fine. I get it. Your mother. And I'm just here...never mind. There's the town.”
Clarke looked back, the sleeping elf girl who had always stood up for anyone in trouble was now laying curled on a dwarf. Clarke had a pretty good idea what Wade was there for.
“Yeah.”
The town was bigger than he remembered. Buildings were taller, some reaching up as high as two stories. People looked on as they passed, some waving at the humans at the front and them waving back. Friendly small village hospitality from people he didn't recognize.
“Lot of new faces. I don't get back home much except around Winter when it's so cold the criminals stay home.”
Wade said, pointing out the few new shops.
They rolled through the market where the once hustling area had graduated to bustling. The Golden Bear was a center of coming and going, including the unusual sight of elves moving in a gaggle, each clutching sweet breads or baked treats.
They dressed in similar robes, a small insignia patch sewed into the chest. They shared a general tired look that most students knew from late nights of studying.
“That's weird. Students from Mrs. Lawfer's school?”
“Yeah. Mom found out gold is gold no matter who's stamped on it. She set up a little side window they could order from so they could drop by quickly.”
Or keep them out of the shop entirely.
“Are we here...?”
Alouella stretched her arms over the side, wrists popping as she wrung out the tightness of sleep. One of the students caught sight of her, mouth going wide as he pointed her out to the group. They rushed to the side of the wagon, trying to remain elegant in the face of celebrity but excitement written on their faces.
“Ms. Lawfer! We didn't know you would be coming into town, are you here to teach some more classes?”
“Isn't that uncomfortable?”
One asked, pointing at Gwen. She startled, eyes popping open and wiping drool from her chin.
“What? What's going on?”
Alouella sat up, patting Gwen a few times on the belly.
“Oh no, there's nothing better to sleep on than a sturdy fighter. It's the closest you'll get to a bed on the road.”
Gwen looked at the students, at Alouella and at the slender fingers on her belly.
“Did I become furniture?”
“Comfortable furniture.”
Alouella affirmed. Clarke pointed off where her home and the school was.
“Why don't the two of you go see this school? I'm just going to talk to Twinty, it'll be boring for you.”
Alouella nodded at him and let herself over the side.
“Would you like to see some magic, Gwen?”
“Sure, never really seen any before. Sounds fun.”
She landed a little more heavily and walked away with the group towards the Lawfer estate. Wade pulled the wagon around the back of the bakery and set the horses to feeding on some hay from one of the training dummies he'd learned on.
“Well I'm gonna go inside and see the family. Maybe lay down a while. Don't you dare leave without me again.”
He shook a fist in Clarke's direction, a little less forcefully than usual though it might have had something to do with his other hand clutching a weak stomach, and went in through the back of the building.
“Mom! I'm back for a bit!”
Clarke nodded at the left over elf.
“Well...towns around you. Do what you want.”
“I think I'll follow you then. No telling when you might take another midnight stroll.”
“Probably sometime between 11:59 and 12:01.”
Clarke was already walking away and Wormwood followed after, having to take longer strides to keep up with Clarke's quick pace.
“So you've heard of clocks? Very useful dwarven invention. Wish there were a smaller version though, maybe something you could wear on a wrist.”
“Like a wrist clock?”
“That's a lot to say, isn't it? Perhaps something punchier...like a glance. Since you'd be checking it once in a while for the time.”
“I dunno. If you wore it on your wrist people would always be asking you for the time. Sounds more inconvenient than helpful.”
“So you wouldn't want one?”
“Of course I would. Precise timing for any event would be great. I just wouldn't wear it in the city.”
The town was the same as he'd left it, except for all the different things. The library was no longer so far out, with homes on the horizon and the market several stones throws away. Now buildings grew along the same road, still spaced but surely close enough that it bothered the reclusive old rat.
The heavy wooden door pulled open easily in his hand when he remembered it being so much heavier in his youth. Still dark inside though, a few hooded lanterns hung on hooks on the ends of the shelves. It was calming to Clarke how it had resisted changing when everything around it had been swept up.
You can go home again.
“Don't just stand there sloshing, close the door and get in here Clarke.”
He closed the door behind him and passed the shelves to see Twinty at his same counter, still looking down at...likely not the same notes. He wasn't that slow of a writer. He was much older, once brown fur seasoned with the salt of age in little clumps of white. The spot around his eye had grown, encompassing his cheek and part of the other eye. Thick glasses sat on his nose, one side with several lenses placed one in front of the other.
He did seem more crotchety.
“How did you know it was me? I didn't even know I'd be stopping by.”
He jutted a gnarled claw at Clarke, more specifically his jacket.
“That damn noisy thing. You slosh like a keg when you walk around in it. I told you, get smaller bottles or add more potion. Or don't wear it at all. I'm surprised you aren't cooking in alchemical soup.”
“That explains the ear growing on my back.”
“I don't know if you're kidding. Never learned to make a facial expression besides indifferent statue or impotent rage, eh?”
He looked the elf up and down, squinting at him.
“What does Wormwood want? Did Whilaway send you for something?”
He stiffened at his name, whole body rigid as a board and nary a breath filling his lungs for several seconds. His body quickly relaxed and he extended a hand in greeting.
“You know my name. Mr. Sevin, I'm a huge fan of yours. Your work in has been an inspiration to me.”
“Fah. Keep your puckered lips off my furry butt.”
Clarke cocked an eye at his teacher.
“I never knew you were so famous.”
“I didn't used to be. Used to be bad to be a famous person in my line of work. But now? No one can keep their mouths shut. Anyway, what do you want, kiddo? I know you didn't come back because you missed me.”
Clarke plucked the page from his book and handed it over.
“I need to know where this is from.”
He took the paper, held lightly in his paw and turned toward the light on the counter. He ran it under his nose and took a few light sniffs followed by one long whiff and a long breath. There was memory to the paper, a night long forgotten trapped in shredded trees.
He read the words, filing the important ones away in his mind.
Whaler's Wharf...
“So where is the paper from?”
“Dunno. Could be from anywhere.”
“You're lying.”
“How can you tell?”
“You didn't have your hand out when you said it. I wouldn't trust anything you say if there's no money involved.”
“You'd talk to me like that? After I raised you, taught you my secrets?”
Wormwood scooted to the middle of the two, turned so he was facing Clarke, picking his side.
“Yeah, you can't accuse a legendary information broker and alchemist of lying. They live on their word.”
“Shut up, he can talk to me how he likes.”
Clarke took his money pouch, shook it a few times for his teacher, letting him count it by sound, and tossed it on the desk. Coins spilled out of the lip onto the paper. Twinty let his eyes flick over the coins, taking in copper and silver, a few gold pieces.
Twinty adjusted his collar and righted his glasses. They stared at one another, some unknown battle of wills burning between them. Twinty shrugged.
“Yes, maybe I do know but it won't help you at all. It's common paper made from your typical elven trees. Nothing special at all, you can buy it in any general store. Heck, you can buy it in our general store. What are you going to do, ask every elf you see about your mother? This piece of paper doesn't say anything.”
He tossed it on the counter.
“Honestly, I'm amazed you got this. Where did you happen to come by it?”
Clarke held out his hand and Twinty scowled at it
“Well, I'm not that interested.”
He quickly picked it up again, running it under his nose and slowly pulling it away, eyes gliding over the corners, over the words written there once more.
“How did you get something like this?”
“Found it in an old dwarven city. Seemed like it had been abandoned a long time, the townspeople and miners hadn't known it was there. There was a crazed earth elemental too.”
“I know, I know that. I mean how did you alone-”
The conversation jarred from course when the door slammed open, rattling the hinges. A girl ran in, hair pulled back under a bandanna and breathing hard as though she'd been running like mad.
“H-hey! Mr. Sevin...those new travelers who came into town...one of them...the big one...”
“Wade Bruin.”
Clarke interjected. He'd once had the same job. Spying on people for Twinty as part of his training.
“Y-yeah. He just got violently sick...puking blood, trembling and he collapsed on the floor of the bakery.”
A young man ran in behind her, this one an elf.
“Alouella Lawfer came to visit at the school and was demonstrating a spell when her lightning went crazy! I've never seen such a powerful spell but it's started a fire out near the school and she won't stop blasting lightning all over the place!”
Clarke was up like a shot for the door but Twinty barked out for him to stop.
“What? Why!? I care about...one and a half of those people.”
Twinty scowled, stroking his chin and taking it all in. His informants stood there, the girl coughing and extending a hand.
“People are dying out there and you want to get PAID? You greedy good for nothing shit kickers.”
He threw some copper coins at them, which they scooped up and ran away with, presumably somewhere where there wasn't wild magic or contagion.
Clarke took a deep breath and tried again.
“Alright, now why aren't we moving?”
“Because I know exactly what this is and I don't have the means to treat it. This is all your fault boy. Bad luck follows you like skunk stink.”
Wormwood interjected.
“We were all down in that dwarf city. Was it something there?”
“Oh, most definitely.”
“Then why aren't we sick or shooting magic everywhere?”
“This...I guess you'd call it a form of mana. It infects elves but ultimately doesn't do much to them unless they take in a lot of it. Comes out in their spells. Humans, it just makes 'em sick and kills them. It doesn't do anything to dwarves but it clings to them and passes to other races. I hope you didn't have a dwarf with you.”
“Oh...well...yes.”
Twinty threw up his hands.
“Praise to the lord high god of mischief and his bag of misery, Clarke. When you aim to destroy a town not just one plague is enough for you! Alright, let's round them up. I'm going to go get your big friend. You go get Alouella and your dwarf and anyone they were near. We're quarantining them in your house.”
Twinty made for the door, hobbling as best he could but turning before the exit.
“Why aren't you sick?”
He didn't let Clarke answer but took to sniffing the air and aggressively patted down Clarke's jacket pockets, fingers dipping into each of them in turn until the dim moss came out in a drying clump.
“A-ha! This is perfect! You really did learn something.”
He sniffed it, letting it break apart in his fingers.
“It's not as dead and starving as I'd like but it will have to do. When you get to your house, start some boiling water and lay this out. Now, go get your elf. You.”
He jerked his head at Wormwood.
“You're with me. Need someone to carry that bullheaded bear.”
They went off towards the market and Clarke took off at a dead sprint for the Lawfer Estate. Smoke already rose through the air and he began to see dots rushing across the golden fields, each becoming elves escaping away from the encroaching blaze.
A few of the advanced students managed some water spells, spouts of water spraying the fires.
Streaks of lightning arced around a lone figure near a half destroyed dormitory, jagged streaks of scorched earth encircling Alouella as she pulled into herself, hands curled to the sky trying to rein in the electric fingers raking over the smoldering field, tearing into the dormitory until smoldering holes were punched through every wall.
“Alouella!”
He screamed, waving for her but she curled in on herself, stretching up tall, her whole body convulsing with too much power. He began to run to her and stopped short. Dashing in blindly was only going to get him killed, now matter how much it tore at him to see her like this.
“Clarke!”
Gwen caught at his arm, Mrs. Lawfer with her like an older version of her daughter. Her hands shook, wringing one over the other.
“Clarke, do you have any idea what's going on? Gwen tells me you were in an abandoned city. Did you come into contact with any ghosts? Cursed items?”
“Twinty says it might be some sort of strange mana we brought back with us. How long has she been doing this? Why hasn't she burned out yet?”
“That's what I'd like to know! She's never lost control of her spells like this and she's pouring out enough magic to knock her out for days! Unless...unless whatever is burning through her mana is using her life energy now-!”
Clarke's eyes bolted open and each stared after Alouella, hearts hammering.
A stray bolt lanced between them, fire springing from the grass. Mrs. Lawfer quelled it with a quick blast of water from her palm. The mandalas circling her hand had barely appeared before they were gone.
“If what you're saying is true...then those may not be her spells. Spells are written using mana as a base. There's no telling what the formulas are for spells based on other energies.”
Clarke looked close at his friend, the swirling mass of mandalas collected around her hands, constantly brightening, swirling around her staff like fireflies. He'd known her for years, envied her magic as a younger man and occasionally taken note of her spell mandalas for their formulaic beauty.
No...those aren't hers...
Clarke pulled his book free, tearing a fresh sheet free and taking pen in hand.
“Then if she doesn't know how to turn it off we're going to have a study session. Mrs. Lawfer, can you get me close to her?”
She was worried at first but she smiled, nodded, chasing the fear away with bravado.
“Do you have a plan?”
“I do.”
Gwen clenched her fists, looking for any way to be of help.
“What about me?”
Twinty's exasperated face popped up in his mind, the exasperation at everything they'd done without knowing and the mention of having brought back a dwarf. Without knowing why he knew she shouldn't be helping and there was one safe place for her to be of use. He pointed towards the town.
“You go to my house. Ask anybody, it's the spooky house with the magic floor. Start some water boiling.”
“But-”
“Go! You'll be plenty of help and there's nothing you can do here!”
She hesitated, looking at Alouella but turning her back and running off across the fields.
“Alright. Let's go.”
Mrs. Lawfer held her hands out, mandalas forming and tiny droplets of water condensing from the air, forming around them in a bubble several inches thick. The world distorted as every coordinated step made the water ripple around them.
Clarke flinched as a bolt struck the shield, electricity crackling around the water's surface and fading. Their pace hurried, closer and closer to Alouella, electricity flowing over and around them attracted to the liquid. Mrs. Lawfer sweat, hands trembling as she reinforced the shield with thrust out palms, keeping it up against constant assault.
“Whatever you're doing, do it quickly!”
She yelled and Clarke held his book firm, the paper before him and put his face close to the water shield. He had to keep his eyes moving, tracing the darting mandalas, writing them in feverish speed but exactly as he could despite how the water crackled with lightning, like reading through the bottom of a mug.
Alouella saw them, jerking away from them reflexively to protect them though her few trembling steps only obscured the tracing Clarke worked at.
“Done! Alouella! Read this!”
He screamed through the water, electricity piercing through to spread on the inside, traveling down into the grass. Alouella opened an eye, trying to concentrate through having a lightning storm pass through her mind. She knew what he was showing her. She took it in, writing it in her mind, staff rising and writing yellow electric in the air in great sweeping arcs like a good showwoman. Her voice rose, speaking from her belly.
“I command you possessed lightning, disperse!”
Everything pulled into the symbol, lightning concentrating at it's edges, filling it, the air slowly dying down, hair slowly falling back onto shoulders.
The water shield fell, watering the blackened grass and both ran to Alouella, catching her as she dropped to her knees, each looking at her weak body, limp with exhaustion.
“Mrs. Lawfer, I have to get her to my home. Twinty said we had to quarantine anyone affected.”
Her mother lifted the unconscious girl, agreeing to Clarke's plan.
“Clarke...what did you do? How did you know what the formula was...? It's...”
“There's no time.”
His first step wobbled and he fell, knees hitting the ground hard. Dark blood littered the grass, dripping from his face. He wiped a fist over his mouth, a gash of blood painted over his hand. It flowed from his mouth and his eye, dripping off his chin. Nausea rose in his belly, twisting his stomach in knots he'd been too busy to appreciate with all the excitement and adrenaline powering him to act. He remembered what they'd said about Wade.
“Let's hurry.”