R. Salvatore - The Witch_s Daughter

“YOU GO SEE what it’s all about,” Ardaz purred to Desdemona, the black cat comfortably draped over his shoulders. Desdemona just rolled her back against the wizard’s neck and pretended not to hear him.

But Ardaz, suspecting that the gloomy sky indicated something important, would not be so easily dismayed. “Enough of that, you silly puss!” he scolded, pulling the cat from her perch and shaking her before his eyes. “Wake up now, wake up! We’ve no time for your laziness; the catnaps will simply have to wait!”

Desdemona growled in protest.

“Now, I’ll hear none of that,” scolded Ardaz. “You go find out what you can find out. And be quick, you silly puss!” The cat let out a shriek a moment later when Ardaz threw her up into the sky. As she was falling, Desdemona transformed into a raven and stretched out her wings to catch the breeze. Then she was soaring up into the gray sky, reluctant but obedient to Ardaz.

“That’s better,” Ardaz muttered to himself as Desdemona faded to a black dot in the distance. “Sleep all day, silly puss. Pass her life away, she would, I do dare say!”

The agitated Ardaz, with typical focus, forgot all about Desdemona a moment later. “Oh, time to see, time to see!” he spouted, and he rubbed his eager hands together and turned back to the tunnel in the latest stretch of ruins he had uncovered. The darkened sky might be important; then again, it might not. But he honestly believed that this find, revealing a civilization in Ynis Aielle wholly unknown, could reshape the world. The wizard slipped back into the tunnel and paused, confused, for a few long minutes, scratching his beard and trying to remember in which direction he had been exploring.

Desdemona caught the updrafts and rode up high into the sky, almost glad now, with the whistle of the wind in her face, that Ardaz had disturbed her lazy slumber. She didn’t really know what her wizard expected her to find up here, or where she would even begin her search to learn more of the unnatural gloom shrouding the world. But if there was information to be gained, Desdemona suspected that it would probably be found back in the populated world. Catching a wind current, the raven spread her wings wide and glided back toward the Elgarde River, just a silvery snake in the distance.

But then another form rose into the sky, much larger than Des and unmistakable in shape. Des swooped off toward her unexpected companion, thinking it grand that Calamus the Pegasus had come out to play.

Billy Shank noticed the approach of the large raven, and initially he reached for his sword hilt, thinking the bird to be perhaps a manifestation of Morgan Thalasi or one of his dark minions. Calamus recognized the familiar of Ardaz, though, and the obvious delight of the Pegasus as Des drew near reminded Billy of the creature’s true identity.

“Desdemona!” he called, making room for the raven to alight on the Pegasus’ back in front of him. As if in answer to his call, Desdemona became a cat again and rolled comfortably against Billy’s belly.

“No, no,” Billy scolded, remembering the cat’s penchant for untimely naps. “You can’t rest yet, kitten; you have to lead us to your master.”

Desdemona’s only answer was a steady purr as she rolled over onto her back, her paws stretched up into the sky and her eyes closed. Billy prodded her and called to her, but that only made her purr all the louder. He knew what Ardaz would do, though he held some reservations about that course of action. But as the cat continued to delay, the man found that he had no choice.

“It’s for your own good,” he explained, and he picked up the apparently boneless cat and tossed her off Calamus’ back. Desdemona let out her second shriek of the morning, and Billy held his breath until the animal became a raven again, her wings catching the air and slowing her descent.

“Lead us, to Ardaz!” Billy called. “It is so very important!”

Desdemona, of course, couldn’t fathom anything more important than her nap, but she wasn’t going to get much sleep gliding around in midair. She cut back toward the east and soared off, landing a few minutes later beside the tunnel in the ruins.

“Finally,” Billy breathed. He jumped from his mount’s back and rushed to the hole in the ground, poking his head down into the darkness. “Ardaz!” he shouted. “Ardaz, are you in there?”

A few seconds later, just when Billy was preparing to drop into the tunnel and go off to find the wizard, the steady glow of a magical light appeared down one of the twisting passages and Billy heard the familiar voice.

“Oh how grand, how grand, how grand!” the wizard rambled, speeding along back to the exit. “Desdemona, my sweet, you have finally learned how to talk! How very grand! So many years-” Billy flinched when he heard a thud and saw the light drop as the wizard tripped and fell.

“Who put that-” Ardaz snapped angrily. “Oh yes, oh silly me,” the wizard answered himself. “My own pack. Ha ha. Thought I’d lost it, too.”

“Ardaz,” Billy called again.

“Coming, Des,” the wizard replied. He hopped and stumbled to the hole, his robes and face covered with dust, and stopped short at the unexpected sight of Billy Shank.

“Finally,” Billy muttered again. “I have been-”

“Oh, Billy!” Ardaz interrupted. “Of course it wasn’t Des,” he scolded himself. “Glad to see you, my boy, I do dare say. Long way from home-what brings you all the way out here?-but I’ll see that the trip is worth the trouble, I shall indeed!”

Billy held his palm out, trying to slow the wizard’s frantic pace. “I did not-” he began again.

“Have you seen them?” Ardaz cried. “Of course you have. Ruins, my boy, ruins! Do you know what that means? Could you know? No, of course you couldn’t. Ha ha!”

“But-”

“Other people, of course!” Ardaz cried. “There are, or were-oh, I hope it’s not ’were,’ I do so want to meet them, after all.” He stopped, confused by his own banter. “But where was I?” he asked, though Billy knew that the wizard would not wait for an answer. “Oh yes, oh yes. Other people! An entire civilization existing right here on our back door.”

Billy understood that he had to find some way to stop the wizard, or Ardaz’s monologue could ramble on for an hour, and he knew of only one word carrying the shock value necessary to stop Ardaz in midramble.

“Thalasi,” he said, with all the grimness that the name deserved.

“Of course, they are not-” Ardaz’s eyes bulged and his tongue got all wrapped around itself. He lunged at Billy, attempting his usual hand-over-the-mouth technique whenever anyone uttered the name of the Black Warlock, but Billy expected the attack and pulled back out of the tunnel as the wizard came on.

Ardaz came leaping out of the hole in a shot. “Speak not that name!” he yelled, still coming after Billy with outstretched palms. By the time he finally caught up to the man, though, there seemed no need for his patented silencing technique.

“Speak not that name,” Ardaz said again, his voice now a somber whisper. Ever did the name of Morgan Thalasi take the bubble out of Ardaz’s voice. He glanced all around, as if he expected some demon to spring upon them where they stood, in punishment for Billy’s foolishness. “You will bring the evil one upon us, I do dare say.”

Billy’s eyes led the wizard’s gaze up to the dreary overcast sky, and Ardaz began to understand.

“But what brought you all the way…” the wizard began. “And with Calamus, indeed, why is he out of Avalon?” The wizard’s eyes popped open wide. “You do not mean…”

Billy nodded. “I came in search of you. The Black Warlock has returned.”