Authors: Lana Axe
Observing the black iron gate, Kwil said, “We go
through the gate.”
“Won’t we get caught?” she asked, raising an
eyebrow.
In an instant, Kwil transformed into his Gatan
form, his silver fur gleaming in the fading light. “We can pretend we’ve come
to buy a slave,” he replied.
Nera shook her head. “You don’t buy directly from
breeders,” she said. “Breeders send the slaves to markets. They don’t sell from
their homes.”
Kwil’s shoulders fell slightly as he realized his
plan to get inside wouldn’t work. In all his studies, he hadn’t bothered to
learn the details of Gi’gata’s slave trade. Looking at the fence, he counted
three separate locks. Apparently Arsden didn’t welcome visitors. “We’ll just
have to break in,” he said.
“Climb the fence?” she asked, looking at the
rails.
Kwil placed a hand on the metal and felt a
tingling sensation. “It has a magical charge,” he said. “We don’t want to be in
contact with it for long.” Climbing the fence was out. He would have to hold
onto the metal too long.
“Can you break the spell?” she asked.
“Not without alerting the person who placed the
enchantment,” he replied. “The only option is to open this gate and walk
through without being seen.”
“And that’s most likely impossible,” Nera said,
crossing her arms. It seemed the mission had failed before it had begun.
“We’re getting inside,” Kwil said, his eyes
flashing red. “Even if it means blowing this gate to pieces.”
“D
on’t get
carried away,” Nera cautioned. “You can’t start tossing fireballs at the gate,
or all the guards are going to come running.” She looked the gate up and down
before placing her hand on one of the locks. “Why don’t you try unlocking these
first?”
The fire dwindled
from Kwil’s eyes as he realized the wisdom of Nera’s suggestion. There was
still a chance of getting inside quietly. Chiding himself for not thinking
rationally, he stepped forward to examine the lock. Through his magic, he
viewed the mechanism inside the metal casing and counted four separate
tumblers. They were in good repair and would not easily open without the key,
but Kwil had to try.
In his mind, Kwil focused
on the first tumbler, avoiding all contact with the other three. Gently he
manipulated the pins, forcing the spring to compress and the other components
to move into the correct alignment. Breathing out, he turned to Nera. “One
down,” he said. Blocking out all other thoughts, he turned his mind to the next
three tumblers, positioning them in half the time of the first.
Kwil handed the
open lock to Nera, who tossed it casually to the ground. There wouldn’t be a
need to relock the gate while they were leaving. “Two more to go,” she said.
As he stared inside
the second lock, Kwil could see that it had rusted over time. The mechanisms
did not move easily, and he suspected opening it would prove difficult, even
with the key. Using the heat from his body, he attempted to melt the rust away
from the metal, allowing the springs to glide freely. He did not achieve the
intended result, however. Instead of melting the rust, he softened the entire
lock along with its chain. It fused to the gate as it cooled.
“I hope you can get
that off,” Nera said.
“I’m not sure I can
get it any hotter,” he said. Melting iron required a vast amount of magical
heat, and he couldn’t risk using all of his stores at once. Tapping a finger
against the metal, he decided to try a simpler approach. He heated the
offending chain only at the links that held it to the fence. Then he pulled
against the unheated end, forcing it away from the gate. Grinning, he looked to
his companion for approval.
“Do you want me to
congratulate you?” she asked, growing impatient. “Just get the third lock
open.”
The third lock
proved no obstacle for Kwil’s magic, and sprang open with ease. The gate swung wide,
admitting the two intruders to the manor grounds. They crept inside, closing
the gate behind them and moving off to the side in hopes of avoiding detection.
“That was almost
too easy,” Nera commented, her eyes darting back and forth.
The pair remained
crouched as they moved along the perimeter of the fence. Kwil knew not to try
entering through the front door. No noble in his right mind would allow a
stranger to waltz inside, especially one who had just disabled the locks on his
front gate.
“Let’s go around
the side,” Kwil said, pointing to an open window.
Nera nodded and led
the way, but a sudden movement ahead stopped her. Placing an arm in his path,
she blocked Kwil from going any farther. Eyes shone in the fading light, wild
eyes. “Those don’t look friendly,” she cautioned.
Ahead of the
intruders paced a dozen large, doglike creatures. They had shaggy fur and
hunched backs, their front legs longer than the back. Their yellow eyes
gleamed, their white fangs shimmering in the moonlight.
“What are they?”
Kwil asked.
Nera shook her
head. “I’ve never seen a creature like that. Maybe it’s some hybrid wolf they
use for protection.”
As she finished her
sentence, one of the beasts caught her scent, lifting its nose in the air. A
low growl erupted from its throat, its pack mates coming to its side. Kwil
immediately summoned flames, which danced in the palm of his hand.
“No!” Nera warned.
“Everyone in the house will see the fire. Let me handle this.”
The massive dogs
charged in her direction, their heads held low to the ground. Nera stepped
forward, her heart leaping into her throat. Shoving her fears aside, she opened
her mouth, a high note piercing the thick summer air. The beasts stopped short,
those behind tumbling over the leaders. Nera continued the song, lowering her
pitch. As if in a trance, the dogs lay down, their tongues lolling out of their
mouths.
Kwil approached
with caution, examining the beasts with magic. “How long will they stay
asleep?” he asked, amazed at his companion’s ability.
Shrugging, she
replied, “I don’t know. I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with this
spell.”
“Then we’d better
hurry,” Kwil said. A high-pitched shriek sounded from the distance, and Kwil’s
Gatan ears turned toward it. “Did you hear that?” he asked.
“I did,” she
replied with a nod. “It came from over there.” Pointing toward the back of the
property, where the faint light of torches illuminated figures in the distance.
“I bet you anything that’s where they keep the slaves.” Another cry echoed,
filling her mind with images of torture.
Kwil glanced at the
open window and then back toward the screams, his mind torn between two
options. He had come all this way for the medallion, but he couldn’t ignore the
suffering taking place under his very nose.
Nera placed a hand
on his arm. “I’m going over there,” she said, her green eyes sincere. “If you
have any chance at getting that medallion without facing Arsden, you’ll be
better off alone. Two of us will make too much noise.”
“Your route could
be more dangerous than mine,” he replied, the words sticking in his throat. Who
knows what lengths a sorcerer might go to in order to keep his slaves protected
from thieves?
“I’ll be careful,”
she promised. “We came for the medallion, so go and get it. I’ll take care of
those people. If there’s a way to free them, I’ll find it.”
Kwil had never seen
Nera so confident. Though new to her magical abilities, she had stopped the
dogs with barely any effort. Her eyes spoke louder than her words. “Don’t take
any unnecessary risks,” he said. “Try to avoid any Gatans.”
With a grin, she
replied, “Hey, I know what I’m doing.” Patting him on the back, she added,
“Good luck to you.”
“I’ll meet you down
there,” he said, pointing to the slave area. He watched in silence as Nera
trotted away in the darkness.
Kwil stepped over
the sleeping guard dogs as he made his way to the open window. No need for
spells this time. A nearby crate gave him the height he needed to pull himself
inside. The room was completely dark, his Gatan eyes taking only a moment to
adjust. It appeared to be an unused bedroom, as there were no dressings on the
bed and no logs in the fireplace.
Nera was right,
he thought.
Getting
inside is proving too easy.
The fur raised on the back of his neck, his
senses heightening to the slightest sound. Caution was warranted here.
Cracking the door
open, he peered out into the corridor. A human slave carrying a tray walked
only steps away, turning down another hallway. As the footsteps faded away,
Kwil crept out, sticking close to the wall. Regretting that he hadn’t removed
his boots, he cast green magic over his feet, quieting his steps as he moved
along.
Where would Arsden keep the medallion?
he wondered. Remembering
that the other nobles he had worked for always kept their most valuable
possessions in their private chambers, he decided to look there first. The lord
of the manor would not have his room on the ground floor. Kwil moved steadily
along the hallway, peering down each adjoining corridor until he spotted a
staircase.
As he tiptoed down
the hall, another human slave crossed his path. Freezing in place, Kwil
observed her, briefly catching a glimpse of the woman’s face. Her eyes appeared
white, as if she were enchanted.
I suppose that’s how a master wizard keeps
his slaves in line,
he thought, a hatred burning in his chest. This man was
a true monster. He traded in human lives as if they were lower than insects.
Not only that, Arsden had wronged Kwil’s mistress. More than ever, Kwil hoped
to face the master wizard and exact punishment for his many crimes. But was he truly
ready?
Taking a deep
breath, Kwil tried to remain calm. After reaching the staircase, he cast a
spell over the wood, hoping to prevent any creaking as he climbed. The stairs
were wide, and turned sharply before spilling out onto the second floor.
Another slave
walked away from Kwil, his movements stiff and unnatural. The mage searched his
mind, wondering what spell might break these people from their enchantment, but
in his heart he knew the truth. The spell could be lifted only by the master
who placed it upon them. Arsden would have to be coerced into removing the
enchantment. The only other way to break the spell would be to kill him. Kwil
stared momentarily at his hands, wondering if he could take the life of another
being. Despite Arsden being a slave breeder, Kwil wasn’t sure he could go so
far. Such acts could lead down a dark road, and he wasn’t prepared to travel
it.
Silently moving
along the corridor, Kwil scanned the doors, wondering which one might lead to
Arsden’s chambers. A strong sense of magic emitted from the door nearest him,
and he wondered if the medallion held magical powers. If so, it might be what
he was sensing. Gathering his courage, he placed a hand on the knob and turned
it, gently pushing open the door. Darkness greeted him inside, and he breathed
easier believing the room to be empty.
A flash of light
erupted in the fireplace, stopping the young mage before he could take another
step. Light flooded the room, the figure of a Gatan in a hooded robe sat near
the fire. He was older, distinguished, with a stark white coat and blue eyes. Without
an introduction, Kwil knew who he was facing. It was Arsden. The magic he
sensed was coming from him, a spell of protection surrounding him.
“I sensed your
magic when you broke my locks,” Arsden said, coming to his feet. “I allowed you
to continue out of sheer curiosity. What could bring a young sorcerer to my home?”
Crossing his arms, he stared at Kwil expectantly.
“I’ve come on
behalf of my mistress,” Kwil replied, his chin jutting forward. “You have
wronged her, and I intend to make it right.” He spoke loud to hear his own
voice over the pounding of his heart.
Arsden laughed.
“And who is your mistress?” he asked.
“Seela,” Kwil
replied.
The wizard’s eyes
focused on Kwil, the smile disappearing from his face. “Seela,” he repeated. “She
should have been left in the woods to die as an infant, but her mother insisted
on waiting until she was old enough to have a fighting chance.”
“You stole her
inheritance,” Kwil said, taking a step forward.
“And why shouldn’t
it be mine?” Arsden replied. “After all, I was the one who arranged the
accident.”
Kwil cocked his
head to the side.
“I see she hasn’t
told you everything,” Arsden said with a chuckle. “I killed her parents, or at
least, I arranged their deaths.” After a pause, he added, “Perhaps she didn’t
know.”
Kwil felt the blood
rising to his face. An image of Seela in her loving mother’s arms flashed in
his mind. This man had taken everything Seela held dear. He had to be punished.
“Of course,” Arsden
continued, “arranging such a simple accident was almost beneath someone of my
talents, but it was a means to an end.”
Not wanting to hear
any more of the sorcerer’s words, Kwil struck. Summoning the flames inside his
body, he fashioned a fireball in the palm of his hand. Launching it in the
sorcerer’s direction, Kwil could only watch as it bounced away from his shield,
returning to the one who had cast it. His Gatan reflexes on alert, Kwil
flattened himself against the floor, allowing the fire to pass by him, striking
the wall instead. Arsden raised a hand to douse the flames, and then turned his
anger on the intruder.
Kwil tried to
regain his footing, but he felt as if a hand were holding him against the
ground. Rolling over, he felt a second hand pressing against his throat. Panic
set in, his lessons of clearing his mind momentarily forgotten. Seela’s voice
echoed in his ears.
Concentrate!
Despite his lack of oxygen, Kwil
managed to steady his mind. Closing his eyes, he visualized the hands lifting
away from him. He pushed with all his might to repel them, every muscle in his
body tensing.
Arsden took a step
back as his spell was broken, the silver-furred Gatan clamoring to his feet.
Flames danced in the young man’s palms, but Arsden had decades more experience.
Summoning a gust of wind, he knocked Kwil backward, sending him tumbling end
over end until he crashed against a wooden chair.
His head reeling,
Kwil found his way onto his knees, his sights locked on the master wizard. A
shimmering blue light emitted from Arsden’s hand, heading straight for Kwil.
Without hesitation, the young man shielded himself with red energy, the
master’s magic striking it with great force. Crying out in pain, Kwil barely
managed to maintain the shield.
Why did I come
here?
Kwil wondered, pouring all his
energy into his shield.
I’m so stupid to think I could do this. I’m just a
slave.
Tears came to his eyes as he realized he had failed his mistress,
and might not survive long enough to tell her.
Maybe humans weren’t meant to
practice magic
, he decided, hanging his head.
How could I ever be a
match for a Gatan master?
The thought gave Kwil pause. It was his Gatan
form that was draining his magical stores. Maintaining the façade was taking up
resources he needed for the fight. Dropping the spell, he instantly transformed
into a human, an exhilarating burst of magic running through his veins.