Michael Stackpole - When Dragons Rage

Kerrigan Reese huddled as best he could in the shadows and shivered. The cool night air had little to do with his discomfort, as he was bundled up against it and swathed in black woolen clothes that rendered him invisible. He even sank to one knee, as did the expedition’s leaders, though he knew he’d be at a sore disadvantage when called upon to move quickly.

Kerrigan shivered because the last time he had engaged in this sort of secret operation, Orla had died. Granted, the streets of Tolsin were not the streets of the Wruonin pirate haven, and the local constabulary was not a band of bloodthirsty cutthroats who just happened to have a sullanciri visiting them. Still, he’d made a mistake then, and his mentor had paid dearly for it.

Well, at least the princess thinks this is a good idea . He let his shoulders slump a little. Then again, she’s not here .

In front of him, shrounded in black, Resolute and Will knelt to study the Thistledown Tavern. The squat, two-story building didn’t look like much, with its thick thatched roof and tiny windows. The dim light leaking out from behind the warped glass suggested the miserly distribution of candles, but that suited their purpose perfectly.

Two men stood beside the door on guard duty, stamping their feet against the cold. The two of them might have been enough to daunt Tolsin’s criminal element, but not the crew that had assembled that night. Resolute could have slain either of them in an instant, and Will was no slouch in combat. Dranae—a massive human warrior, with dark hair, a full beard, and blue eyes—crouched beside Kerrigan. The man towered over him and weighed more than he did, despite not having an ounce of fat on him. Kerrigan would have loved to be that strong, but his life on Vilwan had not exactly been physically demanding. Dranae carried a short wooden staff that hardly looked like much of a weapon, but in a strong man’s hands it could break bones.

The last two members of the company carried no weapons. Qwc, a Spritha, clung to the eaves of the building against which Kerrigan huddled. The lack of light made his green carapace look black, but his four wings still managed to flicker as if trapping starlight. His upper pair of hands smoothed his antennae while the lower pair and his feet kept him anchored to the wall. Though only a foot tall, Qwc’s speed and ability to fly made him useful.

His voice buzzed low. “Just two, just two there.”

Resolute nodded. “Lombo?”

Kerrigan glanced back over his shoulder at the creature hulking there. The Panqui was an intelligent beast who had once been a Wruonin pirate until he had been betrayed and almost slain. Huge, with bony plates armoring his flesh, long retractable claws, and a jutting muzzle full of teeth, he looked more than sufficient to tear the town apart, much less two guards before some tavern. In battle against Chytrine’s forces the Panqui had gleefully attacked and killed Grand Temeryces, coming away without a scratch.

Lombo raised his muzzle and sniffed, his ears flattening back along his skull. “Two outside. More inside. And Crow.”

The Vorquelf nodded, then turned back to look at Kerrigan. “Your turn, Adept. Can you do it?”

Kerrigan frowned for a moment, then flicked fingers at the building. The spell he cast sped unseen at the tavern, then raced back to him, allowing him to view it with mageyes . For him, the night’s gloom vanished and the building lit up, with each living creature glowing more brightly than the candles. Aside from the two men by the door, three more people occupied the upper floor. One was sleeping and the other two were…

Kerrigan blushed and refocused on the ground floor and the basement. Four men remained in the tavern itself, and he picked up two more individuals in the cellar. They were very close, but one lay on the ground while the other fairly blazed with activity. “Someone is down there with him and is kicking him.”

Will turned, eyes narrowing. “Stop him.”

The young mage opened his mouth to explain that while casting the spell in question was simple, focusing it to hit the people in the basement would be trickier. But the look in Will’s eyes indicated that an explanation would be wasted. While Kerrigan knew his Vilwanese tutors would have berated him soundly for using his skills in an illegal activity, he drew in a deep breath, set his shoulders, then opened his palms and let the spell ripple out.

The magick flowed out effortlessly, moving through the night like fog. The two guards collapsed in boneless heaps by the door. Within the tavern itself, the sleeper upstairs burrowed deeper into the covers and the other two relaxed into sleep; even falling out of bed didn’t waken the one of them. The guards on the ground floor toppled to the floor or sagged in their chairs. And in the basement, the man who had been kicking Crow dropped to the ground as if he had been poleaxed.

Kerrigan smiled and Will began to head toward the building. The magicker grabbed his wrist. “Wait.”

“Why?”

A series of staccato thumps sounded from around the building. Plump little creatures fell from the eaves and a couple more plopped down from the roof. Will craned his head forward, then shivered. “Rats?”

“There will be more inside, so be careful.”

The Vorquelf raised a hand and pointed to the building. Qwc flew straight away to it, then keened a high tone. The others followed in his wake, with Lombo hefting the two fallen guardsmen. Dranae and Kerrigan appropriated their spears and helmets, then took up the guard positions while Will unlocked the tavern door with a click. Lombo, the Vorquelf, and Will disappeared inside. The Spritha then launched himself into the air and began a circling patrol.

Kerrigan really didn’t expect much trouble. Princess Alexia and her Gyrkyme companion, Perrine, had hosted a dinner for Call Mably and the other local nobility. They’d all been seated well above the salt, while the present company had lurked below it, pretending to drink far too much and stumbling off to bed while the others engaged in discussions of world affairs and other important events. None of the guests would be allowed to leave until Alexia declared the festivities at an end, and she’d not do that until Qwc returned and let her know the night’s adventure had succeeded.

Dranae fitted the dented helmet on his head. “Your control of magick is impressive, Adept Reese.”

Kerrigan blinked. “Oh, no, I was very sloppy.” He toed one of the sleeping rats. “If I had concentrated, I could have gotten just the men. Oh, and the dog in the corner, too. I just let the spell go and got everything in there. I should have been more precise.”

“But Adept Reese, I was under the impression that outside the realm of combat magicks, humans did not have the discipline necessary to work magick on living creatures. In fact, isn’t the spell you used part of an elven healing regime to make the injured sleep while other healing spells take effect?”

“Well, yes, but…” Kerrigan frowned. “On Vilwan I had elven instructors. I just did what they taught me to.”

“You learned your lessons very well.”

“How is it that you know about magick?” Kerrigan tried to keep his voice even. “No disrespect intended, but…”

“But I hardly seem like a scholar?” The big man shrugged and tapped the helmet over the left side of his head. “You know that Crow, Resolute, and Will rescued me from a squad of gibberkin. They had made me a prisoner and hit me in the head. I don’t remember anything from before I joined with Crow, so I can’t answer. Could be it was something I overheard while on Vilwan, righting the pirates. There were elven healers there, so that’s probably the answer.”