Dominor Maleficious Ch. 2

I followed the kidnappers for two days. They had several dozen captives, five or six separate caravans. Their movements were hard to follow. They would split their forces, ransack separate villages, rejoin. It was all I could do to follow the greatest concentration of victims; some thirty-strong, barely guarded, but guarded nonetheless.

The hostages themselves were a strange, mixed crew. They seemed to come from every race, social class, age, and profession; yet they had been selected with care. I knew exactly what linked these strangers. In fact, I had already selected them, long ago.

How embarrassing, that someone other than me should kidnap them.

Okay, perhaps I hadn’t planned on kidnapping them- I only wanted to have a word with most of them. I’d managed to warn a few victims before they were taken, but nobody had actually heeded my warnings. No matter! I could mend the situation. That’s what daggers were made for.

I tested my blade as I sat in the shadow of the trees. Soon, very soon, I would have the chance to take back what was mine.

I just wish it wasn’t raining. The weather bothered me.

I also wish I knew where they were taking my targets. Confusion bothered me more.

Kieryn’s POV

Picture this: the great Lenpel forest, early morning fog rising from the numerous lakes, a light rain obscuring the pale moon. Thin silver sheets of water meet the canopy leaves, each the size of a small door. A light wind ripples across the sea of summer leaves, splashing small waves of gathered rain to the forest floor. Very few raindrops meet the ground undeterred; most slide down the twisted bark of the imperial trees, promptly absorbed by the thirsty wood. The flowers are closed for the night. All the birds, save the obstinate herons, have retire to their roosts.

The driest place one could find was right at the base of those mighty trees.

I was lucky enough to be tied to one.

It took me far too long to open my eyes. I felt the rain penetrate my dress through the dark haze of semi-consciousness. It was only when I tried to move that I realized my predicament; I was roped to a tree in such a cruel manner that I could neither sit nor stand properly. My hands had gone numb from lack of circulation while I was unconscious. When my eyes finally drifted open, I could only see the world as a colorless blur.

“She’s waking up,” a dry voice whispered.

“Shhh! You’ll wake the guard!” a decidedly male voice responded. I blinked the rain from my eyelashes, trying to focus on whoever had spoken. “Are you okay?” I blinked again. My eyes finally responded to the light.

I wasn’t the only one tied to a tree. Only a few feet away, an elderly lady wearing the robes of priesthood was strung to a sturdy oak. She sported a large bruise on one cheek. At her side was a young man with swollen lips and ruined clothes. They shared the same ropes, as if our captor hadn’t enough rope to bind them separately.

Hannon was nowhere to be seen.

“Hannon!” I exclaimed. I regretted it instantly. Pain erupted from every bone in my chest. Pain blossomed from my lungs and breast. Pain took over my speech and turned my plea for my sister into a sob of agony. The priestess and the man hissed for silence.

I gasped for air. Something was very wrong. Where was I, why did my chest hurt so? But I remembered the attack at Barlen’s home, I remembered being hurled into a wall… “Why… Where…”

“Shhh!” the priestess breathed. “Don’t wake the guard!”

My head spun, my breath rattled… “Guard?”

A loud snore cut through the air, from the shadows of a large bush. I had thought it to be a boulder at first, but it was alive; there was a man in the shadows. A very, very large man. Possibly the largest man I’d ever seen. Definitely the hairiest. I might have mistaken him for a bear, if he hadn’t worn the garish armour of the royal guard. He slept on a rock, his legs out in all directions. His bearded mouth hung open and drool dangled from his cheek. I was glad to be on the other side of the clearing; he would probably have body odour fit to shame a skunk.

So, this was the man that attacked me. Possibly the same man that hurled a rock into Hannon’s head. I hadn’t known it to be a man at the time, but his girth and musculature masked his humanity well. He could have been the son of a giant, if such things still survived. Words simply cannot describe the sheer immensity of this man. A royal guard! Why was he kidnapping ladies and priestesses? He should be guarding royalty, as the royal guard are reported to do.

I finally found my voice. “That man,” I rasped. “He attacked us!” Man and priestess shushed me again. My voice lowered. My panic rose. “Where are we? Why are we tied to trees? Who are you?”

“Lenpel.” The man’s puffy lips slurred his speech. “You’re in Lenpel forest, near Fangleton.” My mind reeled. I last remembered Barlen’s home, in the cozy town of Verrensburg… Two days hard ride away! How hard had I been hit? My lungs, they burned when I breathed…

The priestess shook her wet hair and shivered. “I hoped you would know what was going on,” she confessed. “The guard never speaks.”

“This is not right,” I protested. “I’ve committed no crime!” Pain built in my chest, but I ignored it in my outrage. “There was no proper arrest- we were attacked in the middle of an exorcism!” My fellows held their breath and pulled their legs as far from me as they could. “I was performing the exorcism. I’m not possessed.” They sighed with relief. “Have you done anything illegal?”

“Never!” The priestess snapped. The guard snorted loudly, turned over, and fell silent once more. We went back to whispering. “I am a woman of the law and the divine. The guard took me by surprise as I did my shopping.”

The beaten man hung his head; bits of dirt fell from his hair. “He grabbed me when I came to her defense. But let me say this…” His dark eyes were suddenly very alive. “We are not the only ones. Some hours ago, another guard came past with a horse and hay cart, with three people tied up in the hay!”

“Not a discreet operation,” the priestess scoffed quietly.

My mind was drifting; the guards, the kidnapping, the exorcism- what happened to Igzander? Was he still stuck in the circle, entertaining seventeen thousand demon children? What happened to Barlen? Who threw that stone, the warning to run while we still could? Surely the kidnapper would give no warning.

First an exorcism gone wrong, then a confusing kidnapping. Here I was, tied to a tree with a strange man and a cranky priestess. And a guard the size of an obese grizzly bear. How I wished for a sword… Or better yet, a bomb and switchblade.

Where was Hannon when you needed her?

Hannon’s POV

 “Treason?!”

“S’right, ma’am,” the young soldier drawled. He had the arrogant strut of a law officer, but he was just a wee thing- hardly into his teens, hardly large enough to fit into his armour. His hat, several inches too wide for his thin and greasy hair, hung sideways. He looked totally ridiculous. “You’re charged of treason, to be brought a’fore the king by the full moon!”

“By who’s word have I betrayed the king?”

“He gave his word directly to General Yakin!”

“I have never even seen the king!”

“Nor have I!” It was the scholar on the other side of the tree speaking. At once, all the bound prisoners (except the gagged woman on the hay cart) erupted in protest. That was the way of this group; one by one they had awoken from grievous injuries and found themselves bound to trees, accused of treason, guarded by this pathetic little boy who didn’t know his place. There were a couple dozen prisoners, all bearing similar claims of innocence. The lad could not control their chatter at all, no matter how he stamped his oversize feet and hopped in rage. Why he was placed in charge of so many ‘criminals’ is beyond me.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” the boy hollered, his greasy hair falling into his open mouth and getting stuck. He spat it out with no small amount of anger.

I spat back. “That is no way to talk to a lady! An innocent lady, at that!”

The boy jutted out his pelvis and put his hands on his hips. He was obviously trying to make himself look larger; he only managed to look stupider. “Ain’t no such thing as an innocent female, so says General Yakin.”

This boy really rankled me. I would have said something sharp and witty, something that would really bite the boy, but the old man tied up at my side beat me to it. “Does your mum know you kidnap ladies and the elderly?”

The boy’s face became a lovely shade of red. “You shut up!”

A scholar tied on the other side of the meadow joined the argument. “Where is your evidence, toddler? How have we all committed treason?!”

“You’ve all conspired with demons!” The air was suddenly full of protests once more. Several annoyed birds flew from the trees to which we’d been bound.

I was beside myself with rage. “How dare you! I kill demons!”

The old man bellowed, “I’m a priest! A man of Kyrpus!”

“I only studied demons to get my doctorate!” Similar cries of innocence echoed all through the meadow. I found myself a bit amazed by my fellows- they looked rather mundane, but it seemed they all knew an awful lot about demons. There were many demon slayers and exorcists like myself. There were three ministers and several students claimed to major in demonology. The elderly man across the meadow used demons to create weapons for our esteemed military. The young woman with bright eyes claimed to bottle and sell genies, wish-granting demons… We all treated demons with cautious contempt. Conspiring with demons? I ask you!

The young soldier looked ready to tear out his greasy hair. “Shut up, you lot!” But he received no respect from us, and our pleas of innocence became vicious insults.

“Go home and cry on your mum’s shoulder, boy!”

“Is that really your hair? It’s ghastly!”

“I bet you can’t even lift that sword!”

The boy drew his sword. His face was nearly purple with rage. “You shut up right now! You nasty cultists ought to be executed right here!” He turned to the old priest at my side, raised his sword- and he was knocked to the ground.

It took me a very long moment to realize what happened.

Somebody had jumped from the trees above, landed directly on top of the guard, and knocked him out. The clearing was very quiet all of a sudden. People were staring with eyes and mouths hanging open dumbly.

The newcomer stomped roughly on the back of the boy’s neck. Our guard groaned, twitched, stopped moving… The stranger stood right on top of his victim and calmly straightened the collar of his coat. He took off his hat- he had his hair up in very pretty golden curls- and he bowed courteously to the old priest.

“Not interrupting anything, I hope?”

The old priest muttered, “Nothing important.”

The stranger put his hat back on and spun on his heels, getting a good look at everyone.

I couldn’t help it but stare at him. His entrance, jumping out of a tree onto our guard, was quite impressive; but he looked so silly, he made our guard look royal. His dirt-brown coat was too long, and the ends were covered in tassels like a carpet. His hat was bent oddly over his girly hair. He wore the wine-red vest of a bartender, the black pants of a banker, and the pointed shoes of someone with no taste. The hat in his right hand had holes in it. The cane in his left hand had a dangerous-looking metal tip, and it was topped by an angry-looking walrus. He had a silly ruffled collar, the kind that had gone out of fashion two hundred years ago.

And yet, he was absolutely gorgeous. He must have been in his late twenties. His golden locks begged to be touched. He had unnaturally large blue eyes that almost glowed in the night. He had a light about him, as if the sun were rising right behind his head.

I was completely baffled. A glance at my fellows told me that they, too, had no idea what to make of this stranger.

“You seem to be in a bit of a spot,” the stranger observed. His voice was high, like a boy’s, or perhaps like a woman’s. “Would you like me to cut your ropes and show you to the nearest town?” All around the clearing, prisoners erupted with pleas, thanks, and promises of rewards.

I kept my mouth shut. Something seemed completely wrong about the situation. This was too… convenient. Our rescue had come unnaturally fast.

Something about this man made the hair on my neck stand on end.

The stranger held up his hands to silence them. “All in good time, my friends. All in good time. Let’s establish our terms, shall we? I’ll cut your bonds, get those gags out of your mouths, and send you to the Fangleton Inn…” He had their undivided attention… and a very wicked smirk on his very kissable lips. “All this and more, for one easy payment of fifty gold per person!”

Kieryn’s POV

Hannon had inherited all the weapons. Hannon was the one who’d read all the magic tomes. Hannon had most of the money, though she kept it locked away. Hannon had wit and courage, both intelligence and insolence. Almost everything our parents had, Hannon had taken… Except the physical benefits of the bloodline. She had always been rather small and weak. Her arms were almost feeble, her legs ran at a snail’s pace. Her reflexes and coordination were so poor, she could barely play catch. Her brown hair was the only physical trait she’d inherited from Osen.

I, on the other hand, had inherited all my father’s physical traits. I was tall, sturdy, fast as a fox. I had a rather mannish, handsome face. I even had the same brown hair and eyes as my dear father. And, like Osen, I was double-jointed and ridiculously flexible nearly everywhere on my body. It’s a useful trait, when one finds oneself tied to a tree; especially if the knots turn out to be rather loose.

The priestess and her companion watched with hopeful eyes and held their breath as I wriggled through one loop of rope after another, trying to get to the knot.

The guard slept on. His snoring was phenomenal, as if he were trying to cause a rock slide with his honking and growling.

I managed to slide my hands out of the last loop, but that was it. I was still stuck. The knot that kept my whole body in place was beyond my reach. I could see it around the side of the tree. The knot wasn’t even tied well; the guard had clearly gotten all his knot-tying experience from his boots.

“This is it,” I whispered dejectedly. “I can get no further.”

“Keep trying,” the priestess urged. “Roll yourself closer.” I doubted the usefulness of it, but I tried anyway. I rolled my body to the right- the ropes cut viciously into my side- and I managed to worm my way an inch closer to the knot. Just a little further… A knobbly bit of bark pressed into my back like a dagger. It did not help that my chest still stung, but I tried again. Twist a little here, hold that rope in place with my hands- I could almost reach it! I bent my arm backwards, reached out with my fingers, twisted my torso and pushed firmly against the tree…

… And I choked. I fell coughing against my bonds. I could taste blood on my tongue.

That settled the matter. Something inside me broke when I was attacked, and I was bleeding from within. Stretching like this was certain to make the problem worse.

Still, though my vision was blurred by tears, I could see the priestess and her friend watching me expectantly. I couldn’t be sure of their innocence, but I couldn’t be sure that the guard was following the law in taking us captive. If I could get us all out of this mess, by golly, I would!

Quick as a striking snake, I lashed out at the knot- and I caught it by it’s slippery, wet loop. It slithered out of form. One more tug… A little pull on that one string… The knot came undone with a whoosh, a purr. My fellow captives gasped. The ropes fell to the forest floor. I fell with them.

The guard snorted, muttered some guttural curse, and turned over.

I held my breath for a moment, and let it out slowly. I mustn’t exert myself… I carefully got to my feet, trying not to notice that I swayed where I stood and my knees shook beneath me. I stepped carefully, watching to make sure I didn’t snap any twigs or trip on any roots. I wasn’t accustomed to treading with stealth, but I managed to reach the other side of the meadow without waking the hairy giant.

I began to untie the priestess and her companion. “Many blessings, milady,” she whispered. My hands shook against the knots, and I felt as if my stomach were in knots too. This knot was tighter than the one that had held me. I tugged on a noncompliant loop. It didn’t budge. I would never let a knot get the better of me! I braced a leg against the tree and tugged with all my might.

My shoe slipped on a wet maple leaf. I was sent sprawling onto my back, with a terribly loud shriek. Lying there in the muck, I clamped my hand over my mouth- but it was too late, I’d already screamed loud enough to wake the dead. I heard the clink of heavy metal in motion. A loud grunt of exertion. Not daring to breath, I turned my eyes to the guard. He was awake. Drowsy, blinking stupidly in the rain, but awake. For a pregnant moment, all was silent but the pitter-patter of falling raindrops.

The guard looked around blearily. He seemed hunched over, reminding me once more of a bear. His brown eyes roved around the clearing, as if he couldn’t remember where he was. In fact, the more he looked around, the more worried he appeared. When he finally turned his gaze to me, his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Yurna n’wa? Yulea la?” I had no idea what he said, but he spoke in Valen-tongue. I checked the royal insignia on his breastplate; yes, he bore the swordfish mark of Rutoria. Why was he speaking like a native Valendorn? We were at war with them, for God’s sake! A royal guard should never speak that language! He sputtered more gibberish and held out a hand for me. Completely and utterly lost, I accepted his hand. He pulled me easily to my feet and plucked a stray leaf from my hair.

“Don’t feign innocence, monster!” the priestess’s companion suddenly bellowed. The priestess was staring with wide eyes at the guard. Her lips moved, but no sound could be heard; I assumed she was praying.

The guard blinked dumbly. I noted his muddy brown skin tone, grubby black hair, and plain brown eyes. “Rudermir?” I knew that word; it was the Valen way to say “Rutorian.”

Our lumbering kidnapper stumbled back a step. He became rather green in the face, and his lip trembled. He turned away, moaned, lurched to the side. I thought he was about to vomit. No? He suddenly stood upright, firmly, not a trace of weakness about him. He turned back to us with a savage snarl on his lips.

His eyes were black. Black as night. Black like Igzander’s eyes once the demons took him over completely. I fell back against the tree, horrified and confused.

The guard’s massive fist latched onto my shoulder, biting into me with a grip as powerful as a bear trap. I heard a horrible crunching noise as he grabbed me. I suddenly found myself incapable of breathing. “How did you get out?” he bellowed. His voice had become high and scratchy, like that of an elderly man who’s smoked too many cigars.

I could only wheeze in response. He was pressing on the wrong rib, and the pain was like a burning hot iron in my lungs. Sadly, I’d felt such a thing in the past.

This guard- no, the demon inside the guard- had no patience. He crushed me against the tree and dug in his pockets for rope. I tried to kick his hands away, but it was no use. He was as a statue, cold and unmovable. I still tried in vain to pull air into my lungs. His incredible weight fell upon me, and a strange gurgling noise escaped my throat. Colors began to fade, the stars in the sky were dancing…

The priestess cried, “By the great gods Kyrpus and Korpsur! I command you, demon; fall to your knees and submit to my will!” Her words were powerful; but she had cast no circle, drawn no pentacle, called upon no higher spirits. It was a mere goad. The demon chuckled and dropped me. I found myself writhing on the ground, flopping and wheezing like a fish out water. Why did I hurt so?!

The demon’s ham fists drew a sturdy sword. He had obviously been using this host for quite some time; he knew the contents of the guard’s pockets, he knew the sword, and he knew his hostages. “Well, little priestess Nay-”

The man spoke up. “You will call her master! She will be your death!” The demon threw his head back and laughed. As he was distracted, I kicked his sword-toting arm. The blade cut through the air, barely missed the young man’s nose, and sliced cleanly through the weak ropes that bound the priestess and her companion. They fell right on top of me. It hurt. I was sure to pass out if people kept crushing me so.

“Please get off of me,” I gagged. I bit my lip as they obliged. With their weight gone, I pulled myself onto my elbows. The demon, no longer laughing, leapt forward and grabbed the priestess by her head. He dropped his sword and tried to catch the man as well, but the giant moved too slowly; the priestess’s companion slipped away and dashed into the woods without sparing us a second glance.

“Get back here, dirt monkey!” the demon howled. It did him no good; the man was gone, and the priestess struggled like an angry cat. Her agility surprised me. She kicked off the tree and stuck her dainty shoe in the guard’s eye. He only howled louder and shook her like a rag doll. He seemed to have forgotten me, so I crawled behind the tree and tried to calm my erratic breath. My heart beat painfully loud, I could feel it in my throat. The demon had some rage to spare. “Teach you to kick me-” I heard a thud, a muffled cry. It came again and again, and I couldn’t move at all. I stood frozen on the other side of three, listening to that woman being beaten.

Could I… help her?

 No, I told myself. That demon would rip us both apart. I couldn’t just leave her like that! But I couldn’t just rush in and pry her from the guard’s heavy hands, either. If only Hannon were here! She would kill that demon, and maybe his host as well!

I felt a particularly hard hit right through the tree. There were no more cries of pain from the priestess. There was the soft sound of a body dropping into the muddy forest floor. And then I could hear nothing… Nothing but the rain and my own rattling breath. I glanced behind me. I couldn’t see the guard, but I saw the priestess’s hand, lying lifeless in the undergrowth.

“Where have you crawled to, Kieryn?” My breath caught in my throat. “I know you’re here. Come out of hiding, little exorcist.” Heavy steps thumped around the tree.

There was no alternative. I took a deep breath, picked a direction, and ran. The demon bellowed like an angry bull and have chase, but his host was not built for running, and I quickly left him behind. My lungs ached with every breath, I felt a jarring pain on my side with every step I took, but it couldn’t be helped. I didn’t know where to run to. Lenpel was the largest forest in the world; my best hope was the light of the capitol city, which I would surely be able to see if it stopped raining… Maybe if I got lucky, I would find the young man that had escaped before…

I kept on running. There were so many roots to trip over, so many patches of mud to slip in, so many branches and brambles that caught on the lace of my ruined dress and tangled in my hair. I stumbled past a startled deer and frightened birds from their nests. I heard no sound of pursuit, but I would take no chances; I took my dress in my hands and tore it off above the knees, so the branches would not catch it as easily. I was soaked to the bone, but that no longer mattered. I just had to get as far away as I could.

Finally, after what felt like hours, I could walk no longer. The rain had stopped, but the morning sun didn’t shine through the ominous grey clouds. I fell to my knees. There was no decent shelter anywhere. I saw no sign of the capitol city, or any civilization at all. I had probably ran in a large loop. I was painfully thirsty, but the only water around was in mud puddles. Stupid demon, why did he have to drag us into the forest like this? I was exhausted. Shelter, I needed shelter…

Devoid of dignity, I climbed a tree, perched myself on a sturdy branch, and tried to sleep.

Hannon’s POV

Silver and gold are the currency of our lovely realm, Rutoria. A gold piece was worth a hundred silver. A large bag of wheat flour usually cost six or seven silver pieces. Asking 50 gold per person, for such a small service as cutting our ropes and leading the way to safety, was nothing short of…

“Robbery!” the old priest cried. “You can’t expect us to pay that!”

The silly-looking stranger scratched his chin, still smirking. “You’re right,” he said. “I suppose the price of freedom is a bit steep. I’ll give you a senior discount of fifty percent.” Angry shouts echoed through the meadow. “I’ll also accept a down payment of twenty gold, with negotiable interest rates…”

That bandit! Taking advantage of our situation! Oh, but I knew perfectly well what would happen; as soon as we were cut free, we’d be on him like hounds and have our gold back. If he foresaw this, he showed no concern. He said, “Doing good deeds won’t put bread on the table. I have a nine orphans under my care. You criminals ought to be more charitable!” The nerve of that man! What a sorry lie!

The boy beneath him moaned. His hands twitched.

“Stay unconscious, will you?” The bandit requested cheerfully. He struck the young soldier on the back of the head with his walrus cane. The boy fell silent. “There’s a good lad.” I bit my lip. This man was clearly sadistic, and probably insane. Such casual cruelty! As if he thought he was better than all of us. He looked back up with a charming smile. “So, who wants freedom? Any buyers?”

Silence…

“I have sixty gold on my person,” the old priest announced. “I can pay for three people.”

I kicked his heel. “Don’t give him your money! He’ll surely cut our throats instead of our ropes. He just wants us to hand him the money first!”

A scholar across the meadow said, “I have fifteen gold. Does anyone have five to spare?”

“You idiot!” But my words were useless. They were already offering to pay for freedom. These people were desperate, and that I could understand; but this bandit wouldn’t hold his end of the bargain! How could they be so gullible? The girl that sold genies, as it turned out, was fantastically rich and quite generous; she offered to pay in full for herself and eight others.

The bandit reached into his coat and pulled out a very silly dagger, forged with plenty of (useless) extra curves and points, and a (uselessly) decorative walrus hilt. This fellow either had a thing for walruses, or had stolen his cane and dagger from the same source. He danced his way over to the genie-seller and set his blade upon the ropes. “If I cut you free, I must cut everyone on this tree loose too. Are they the ones you’ll pay for?”

The genie seller counted their heads and looked around the clearing. Including herself, there were nine people tied to her tree, and it would have been perfect; but her eyes lingered on the pregnant woman bound in the hay cart, and she said, “I’ll pay for that woman instead of myself.”

The bandit laughed aloud. “What selflessness! Remind me to give you a discount.” And he cut their ropes. Nine very relieved people fell to their knees, but I worried about the genie seller; there was no way she could afford this, even if she was really as rich as she said she was. Our ‘saviour’ took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet. Without a word, she pulled her purse from her jacket and surrendered it. The man stuck in a hand and began counting.

I kept my mouth shut, but I really wanted to yell something foul. This was all wrong! That stupid girl just handed nearly five hundred gold to a twisted thief, and she hadn’t even paid her own way to freedom. Why didn’t those idiots untie everyone else? They just sat there with their knees on the ground, about as active as vegetables.

Except for their shocked faces…

The bandit cut loose the pregnant woman on the cart, and removed her gag. She didn’t move or speak at all. There was something entirely wrong about all of this… The genie seller stood as if paralyzed, not a muscle moving about her except the breath in her lungs.

Our ‘saviour’ tossed his pretty golden locks and showed us how very bright his smile was. “Who else wants freedom?” People began to call out exactly how much they had in their pockets. One by one, the bandit cut them loose and took their money. Not one of them showed a trace of life after being ‘freed’.

I would not buy my freedom, nor accept anyone buying it for me. I don’t know how he kept the ‘free’ people under such tight control, but I didn’t want to find out first hand.

Besides, I’d left all my gold at home. Stupid, stupid me. I whispered a prayer as I watched the others buy themselves back from the unconscious guard, and I watched their facial expressions go dull.

All too soon, it was over, and everyone who had paid (or benefited from someone else’s gold) was sitting idly on the forest floor. There were but four exceptions: the rigid genie seller, an old librarian, an weapon designer, and a demon slayer (me).

The bandit paced in a large circle around us, apparently concerned. It seemed he had expected everyone to pay, despite the ridiculous price of freedom. He eventually stopped and stood by my side. “Well, well, my poor friends. What shall I do about you?” His clever blue eyes peered into my black ones. I glared right back him. “If I leave you tied to these trees, you’ll die from thirst or starvation. Ah, I know! I could cut your misery short…”

He kissed his dagger and set it on my defiant lips.

I spat on it.

The bandit laughed brightly and kissed me on the cheek.

I would have paid five hundred gold for the chance to shoot his head off.

“Perhaps I’ll think of an alternative,” he whispered in my ear. He turned to the people who’s bonds had been cut. “You can move now,” he told them. He pointed to a hill in the distance. “Head to the base of that hill. There you will find the Fangle river; follow it downstream and you will reach Fangleton.”

All at once, everyone jumped up their feet. At last, they showed signs of life! I shook in my bonds. Perhaps one of them had life enough to cut me loose… But, no. These fools were all completely cowed. They walked off towards the hill like zombies. Already they were vanishing into the trees. I tried to keep my hopes up. Perhaps the genie seller would untie me?

One scholar lagged behind. He asked, “Where will we go when we reach Fangleton?”

The bandit pulled out his cane. My blood ran cold. He wouldn’t attack the scholar with it! Would he? But instead, he pulled the walrus off the cane’s head. He tossed it lightly to the scholar. “Give it to the innkeeper. She’ll understand.” The scholar bowed and ran after the others. He was swiftly swallowed by the shadows of Lenpel forest.

I didn’t get it. At all. That walrus must have been worth all the gold he’d just stolen. And he just handed it to the scholar? Yes, he was clearly insane.

The genie seller still didn’t move. The other two that hadn’t paid- the old librarian and the weapons designer- were also still and silent, but I’m sure that was pride.

The bandit turned back to me. He was no longer smiling. He seemed to diminish as his captive audience fled. “It would be terribly cruel to let you die here.” I nodded slowly. Did he plan on taking us somewhere else to slit our throats? “Oh, but I can’t let you off for free!” He sheathed his dagger and looked to the sky. Did he really not know what to do? “I just can’t pass up an opportunity like this. Isa and the children depend on me…”

I didn’t want him to pull out his dagger again. “Who’s Isa?”

For a moment, he didn’t react. I wondered if he heard me at all. He watched the swirling rain clouds, and his face slowly broke into another charming grin. “Why don’t I take you to meet her?”

The ropes that bound me and the other two shattered like glass. I fell to my knees. How did he do that? He hadn’t lifted a finger or even taken out his dagger! I could only stare at him in awe. It didn’t occur to me that I could move or speak, until he said, “On your feet, darlings! I’ve made up my mind. You’re being kidnapped by the great thief Morzile! Follow me!” And my feet obeyed without question.