Douglas Niles - The Heir of Kayolin

“Just this, lord. I think the black wizard retains an active spy in the mercantile district. Two of them, actually-partners in a business. I have watched their comings and goings and feel certain that they are serving as a direct conduit to our enemy.”

“Good work,” Ragat said. “Keep an eye on them for now. I’ll see about them for myself as soon as the fighting is over.”

“As you command, lord,” said the spy, bowing deeply. Ragat nodded in dismissal, and the robed fellow left through a hidden door in the back of the alcove. Soon, the general knew, his spy would be back in his silversmith’s shop.

Captain Veinslitter lay on the platform of Willim’s command tower. The loyal warrior’s blood leaked profusely from the garish slash across his belly, but he had not so much as cried out in pain when the keen knife had suddenly, surprisingly, plunged into him. His eyes had widened in sudden understanding; then he had fallen. He twitched slightly in the widening pool of blood. He lived for the moment, but he would soon be dead, and he knew it.

Standing over the commander who had failed to carry home his attack, Facet wiped the blood from her blade and slipped the clean weapon back into her sheath. Her face was again clean and unscarred, healed by the wizard’s most potent priests. Her black hair was neatly combed, sweeping back from her white skin like a sheen of smoky strands. Her crimson lips, moist and full, pursed in cruel satisfaction as she watched the life drain from her victim.

Willim stood nearby, half turned away but studying the scene nonetheless with the full glare of his spell of true-seeing. He had seen Facet’s eyes flash excitedly as she had stabbed the captain, whose only mistakes had been preordained by the enemy’s superior defensive position. No matter to the black wizard; Veinslitter had disappointed him, he had been punished, and the rest of the rebel army would soon know what happened to those who failed.

The wizard struggled to mask his emotions, but he felt a rush of affection and admiration for the dwarf maid who was becoming his most treasured apprentice. How strong she was! How ruthless! How loyal!

“I am very proud of you,” he said, pleased to see the flush of exultation that spread across her porcelain features.

“Come,” Willim said as Veinslitter’s feeble twitching finally settled into the stillness of death. “I have other officers who have failed me as well.”

Facet nodded, her lush lips compressed into a tight smile. When Willim started to walk away, she followed him. He didn’t face her, but with the gift of his magical sight he watched her …

And he desired her.

Peat and Sadie worked through the night. He organized the chaotic mess in the shop while she labored over completing her copy of the scroll. Peat heard the steady scritch scritch scritch of her quill against the parchment but forced himself to stay away from her and let her work uninterrupted. Tempted though he was, he didn’t even try to peer over her shoulder.

The sounds of battle had, at last, faded away. Peeking out the door, he saw the streets were quiet; the fighting seemed to have ground to a halt. No one was walking around.

However, Horth Dunstone with his wife and two children returned to the Two Guilders Emporium promptly at the appointed hour. Peat, still wondering about his wife’s surprising possession of the powerful scroll, led them inside. He made sure that the Closed sign hung in the doorway and followed the customers toward the back of the shop.

The chubby merchant turned to him with an expression of almost pathetic hopefulness on his face. As his wife and children continued on inside, he whispered to Peat. “Do you have good news for me?”

“I believe we might be able to help you,” the Theiwar answered. He cleared his throat. “But, as I warned you, it will be expensive.”

“Oh, of course, of course!” the customer said. He pulled a fat purse from his belt and eagerly extended it to Peat. “I trust this will be sufficient. Mostly diamonds, of course, though there are some exceptional emeralds, sapphires, and rubies in there as well. It’s, well, it’s basically my life’s fortune, with only a few stones left to help us get established on the outside.”

“I see,” said Peat. “Please wait here.”

He left the fidgeting Hylar in the shop and went into the back area, where Sadie was just inscribing the last symbols on the copy of the spell scroll she had been laboring over for the previous sixteen hours. Beside her, illuminated by the same lamp brightening her worktable, was a smooth steel tray with raised edges. Barely able to breathe, Peat turned the purse upside down, and they both gawked in astonishment as a dazzling array of stones spilled onto the metallic surface. True to Horth Dunstone’s word, most were glittering diamonds, though a few red, blue, and green gems also glimmered in the midst of the crystalline treasure.

Peat immediately snatched up one of the largest diamonds, while Sadie picked through the stones to find a large emerald and another gem, a ruby of crimson red. Each of the Guilders held their stones up to the light, examining them critically.

“A bit crude in the carving but genuine,” pronounced Peat, setting the diamond down and picking up several more with shaking fingers. He quickly confirmed that they, too, were real.

“These are brilliant. This is a fortune right here!” Sadie declared, breathing hard. “More than we’ve ever held in our hands!”

“I take it the services we promised,” Peat asked hesitantly, “are ready?”

His wife nodded. “Bring them in here; we don’t dare do this out in the front room.”

Moments later the four refugees, each clutching a small bag of belongings, had gathered in the back of the shop. Sadie closed and locked the door behind them before picking up the copied scroll. She would read the spell from the copy, which would cause the magic to consume the writing, while preserving the original for future profit-as well as an eventual path of escape for themselves, if the time came for the two Guilders to leave.

“Where are we going to go?” the Hylar girl asked a little plaintively.

“Yes, where?” asked Horth Dunstone as if the thought were just occurring to him.

“Pax Tharkas,” Sadie declared, looking at the scroll. “There are dwarves there, refugees of Thorbardin from before the gates were sealed. They will make you welcome.”

Of course, there was no way she, nor anyone else, could predict what kind of reception the new refugees would find, but that wasn’t her problem.

That was enough for the Hylar. They were anxious to leave. “Let’s go, then!” urged the mother.

Sadie began to read the incantation on the scroll. The blue glow of arcane power emanated from the page, spilling through the small room. The thrum of magic pulsed through the air, and the family of refugees seemed to shrink together, each leaning upon the others for support. With each word spoken, the ink of that symbol burst into flame, chewing through the parchment so, as she reached the end of the spell, she was holding only a thin strip of charred material.

When she was done with the casting, a shimmering blue pattern began to appear on the wall of the shop’s back room. It pulsed and glowed with an eerie light, and all six dwarves couldn’t help but shrink away from it. Slowly the image expanded until it was a circle more than six feet in diameter. The glowing azure ring surrounded the vortex at its center, the true heart of the dimension door spell. It began to appear as a dark hole in the wall, a mysterious portal offering passage to an unseen destination.

“Now, now,” Sadie said, recovering to address the Hylar parents. “It won’t last long. I’d suggest each of you take one of the children by the hand and step through.”