Instantly the lizard-fish returned, swarming from the water and spraying sand as they dragged their bodies toward her. Veka leaped back into the tunnel, and the lizard-fish slowed. Their claws couldn’t find enough traction on the bare obsidian, so lizard-fish rarely left the sand of the beach. Unfortunately, the sand covered every bit of stone between Veka and the lake tunnel.
This wasn’t fair. Jig hadn’t done anything heroic to get past the lizard-fish. His ogre had done most of the work. All the goblins had to do was knock away the few lizard-fish the ogre didn’t smush.
“I want an ogre of my own,” Veka muttered. She tried again, moving as softly as she could, but it was no good. The instant the sand scraped beneath her feet, the lizard-fish returned. Veka’s throat began to tighten.
“There has to be a way past,” she said. There was always a way. She couldn’t fail now, only a few steps into her journey. She sat down in the mouth of the tunnel and drew her spellbook from her cloak. The spellbook was in even worse shape than her copy of
The Path of the Hero
. At one time it must have been magnificent. Charred red leather covered engraved copper plates that formed the cover. The metal itself had survived the flames, but the pages within hadn’t been so fortunate. Those few that weren’t burned beyond legibility were incomplete and blackened around the edges. That was to be expected when you grabbed your spellbook from a dragon’s lair, she supposed.
How many weeks had it taken her to decipher even the basic binding charm she had tried to show to Jig? The next page was a levitation charm, but no matter how many times she tried, she had yet to levitate even the hairs she plucked from her head for practice. All her long nights of concentrating had gotten her nothing more than aching eyes and a sore scalp.
The mocking laughter of the hobgoblins echoed in her memory. She started thinking about Jig, and how he had cowed the hobgoblins into submission. By the time she managed to follow him into the tunnel, Jig probably would have found whatever was hunting the ogres and destroyed it.
“This should be my quest. My path!” She brought the lantern over the spellbook and squinted. Her other hand clenched into a fist for the binding spell. Josca wrote that the true Hero would find new strength and power when her need was great. This time, the spell had to work. It had to!
Slowly she spread her fingers, imagining lines of power spreading from each fingertip to a point in the center of her palm. She moved her hand over her staff, forcing the magical star outward until it intersected the wood. According to her spellbook, her staff would help her control the magic. A wave of the staff would send her soaring gracefully into the air, and she would be able to slip past the lizard-fish unnoticed. She didn’t need much power, only enough that her boots didn’t touch the sand. Surely she could summon that much magic. She concentrated on the binding spell, staring so hard she almost believed she could see the silver lines wrapped around the end of the staff. Her hands trembled from her effort. If she could only—
A bit of muck spilled from the lantern, landing on the open spellbook. Veka yelped and flung the lantern away, slamming the book closed to smother the flames. Smoke continued to rise from the pages. She scrambled forward, scooping sand from the beach and dumping it over the book. She could see the tiny green flame burning through several more pages. She dumped more and more sand onto the book, covering the whole thing until at last the fire died.
Only then did she think to look up. Lizard-fish formed a half ring around her. Slowly she backed away, into the mouth of the tunnel. Several of the lizard-fish tried to follow, only to hiss and retreat when they got too close to the muck that had spilled from her lantern. Whether it was the light, the heat, or the smell, they refused to pass the lantern to get to Veka.
Moving as slowly as she could, she picked up her spellbook and slipped it into her cloak pocket. She used her staff to right the lantern, then hooked the end of the staff through the handle. Keeping the lantern between her and the lizard-fish, she backed hastily into the tunnel. The spilled muck continued to burn on the sand.
Once she was safe on bare obsidian, she set the lantern down, grabbed her spellbook, and flipped to the levitation spell.
The muck had burned through most of the spell, searing the next ten or so pages for good measure. One of the few intact spells in the book, gone in an instant. She touched the browned edges of the hole, and flakes of burned paper stuck to her fingertip. She stared at the now-empty beach, wishing hatred alone was enough to destroy those hideous lizard-fish. “How am I supposed to become a Hero without a spellbook?”
She couldn’t. Without magic, she was nothing but a fat, useless goblin who would probably spend the rest of her life working in the distillery until the fumes finally drove her mad.
She pulled out
The Path of the Hero
and set it down next to the spellbook. For a moment, she was tempted to throw both books onto the muck still burning in the sand. What kind of Hero lost her spellbook before she had even begun her journey?
She flipped to the beginning of the spellbook, cringing as more charred paper flaked loose and floated to the ground. The binding spell was still there, mostly legible, but that was only the first step in spellcasting. The binding was like her fire striker, providing the sparks to fuel true magic. Without those spells, her sparks simply fizzled and died.
Josca wrote that the Hero was supposed to overcome all obstacles, but he didn’t explain how. Veka didn’t have an ogre along to stomp lizard-fish. She didn’t have anyone.
She blinked and wiped her eyes. Picking up
The Path of the Hero
, she flipped through the pages and began reading chapter nine, “The Sidekick.”
“While not a prerequisite for true heroism, many legendary wizards have been known to take a companion. Whether it is the half-giant apprentice of the dwarven sorcerer Mog or the three-legged frog familiar that accompanied his master Skythe through the Bogs of Madness, the sidekick provides much-needed aide and support for the Hero’s journey.”
Veka’s jaw tightened. She gathered her books and stood, brushing sand and ash from her robes. She might not have a three-legged frog, but a hobgoblin was the next best thing.
The hobgoblins were standing in the middle of the tunnel arguing. The wooden panel on the roof hung down, though the rocks had been swept to one side. Slash waved his hands and shouted, “There’s not enough height for iron spikes to do any serious damage, not unless we add a lot of weight, and then the hinges won’t hold it.”
“So what’s your idea?” snapped the other. “Nail rock serpents to the platform by their tails again?”
Slash’s face darkened. “That would have worked if they hadn’t turned on each other,” he muttered. He started to say more, but stopped when he spotted Veka. He elbowed the other guard and pointed. “Speaking of more weight—”
They took in Veka’s damp dirty robes and disheveled appearance in one glance and smirked.
Until now, Veka hadn’t been sure how she would persuade of the hobgoblins to accompany her. Studying the creaking platform, she knew. The beads and trinkets on her staff made a nice dramatic rattling sound as she pointed it at Slash. “You. Come with me.”
Slash stepped to one side and retrieved his spear, which had been leaning against the wall. “Much as I’d love to follow a rat-eating goblin around, I’m on duty.”
Veka scowled, hoping it appeared menacing. Setting her staff and lantern on the floor, she loosened her belt and began fishing through the pockets of her apron until she found a small package folded inside several layers of smoky yellow cloth.
“What’s that?” asked Slash.
“The last piece of your trap.” She unfolded the cloth, revealing what looked like a pile of black dirt. Being careful not to touch the granules, she held it up for the hobgoblins to see. “This should solve your problems.”
When they leaned closer, she blew the contents into their faces.
She leaped back, dodging a swipe of Slash’s spear. The other hobgoblin was fumbling for his sword. “I’m going to cut you into strips and feed you to the tunnel cats!” he roared.
By now, the powder was already having an effect. Slash had dropped his spear and was scratching furiously at the tiny spots breaking out on his face. His friend had been hit with even more. His arms, neck, and face were all coated, and his eyes were watering so badly he couldn’t see to stab her.
“Do you have any of that beer left?” Veka asked. They didn’t answer, not that she expected them to. “Alcohol will neutralize the worst of the itching.”
Both hobgoblins scrambled for the skin. Slash reached it first, pouring most of the contents over his face before handing it to his partner. He grabbed his spear.
“What do you think would happen if you coated the top of your platform with that powder?” Veka asked.
Slash hesitated. He glanced at the other hobgoblin, who was cursing and hopping about as he tried to shake the last few drops from the skin. “What is that stuff?”
“It’s magic,” Veka lied. “It’s called turgog powder.” She had been saving that packet to slip into the water-skin of a goblin warrior who had insulted her a few days back.
Slash was still pointing his spear at her. “How do you make it?”
Veka hesitated. Turgog was a by-product of corrupted muck. Rats would occasionally sneak into the distillery, and they had an insatiable appetite for the dried, treated mushrooms used halfway through the muck-making process. Their digestive systems processed the mushrooms into the highly irritating substance she had blown on Slash’s skin. But she doubted Slash would want to know she had covered his face in powdered rat droppings. So she waved her hand and said, “It’s a complicated magical formula.”
Slash’s eyes narrowed. “Magical?” He glanced at her staff. “What are you supposed to be, some kind of witch?”
“Wizard,” Veka said. She pointed her staff at him. His companion had already fled into the hobgoblin lair, screaming for beer. “Come with me, and I’ll provide you with enough turgog powder to douse a whole party of adventurers.”
A smiling hobgoblin was an ugly sight, especially when that hobgoblin’s face was still covered in an orange rash. “Let’s go,” he said.
“Grab one of those lanterns,” Veka said. Hobgoblins used a different mixture of muck, one that burned with a bluish flame, but the basic formula was the same. “We’ll need it.” She stifled a grin as she turned and set off toward the lake. She had sent one hobgoblin fleeing, and convinced another to join her quest.
She was going to be a Hero after all!
The splashed muck on the beach still burned, giving them a clear view of the black sand. Veka stepped onto the beach and watched the lizard-fish crawl from the water, antennae waving.
“Why don’t you use your magic on them?” Slash asked.
He wasn’t as dumb as he appeared. “All power comes with a price,” she said, quoting Josca’s book. Unless you were Jig Dragonslayer. Then power was simply dropped in your lap through sheer stupid luck. “I see no reason to waste my magic on such low creatures as these lizard-fish, not when there is a simple alternative.”
Before he could respond, she said, “We’ll go together. They’re afraid of the lanterns. Hook the handle over your spear and wave it behind us. I’ll do the same with my staff to clear a path as we go. Once we reach the tunnel, they won’t follow us.”
At least she hoped they wouldn’t. They hadn’t followed Jig and the others into the tunnel.
Holding the lantern in front of her, she began walking. Slash didn’t move. “This is your plan?” he snapped.
Veka scowled and hurried back onto the rock. She fished
The Path of the Hero
out of her cloak.
“What’s that?” Slash asked.
“My spellbook,” she said. She would have used the real spellbook, but
The Path of the Hero
looked much more impressive, plus it had better pictures. She thrust the book at him, keeping one finger on the illustration of an elf fighting what looked like a cross between a dragon and a dungheap. “And this is what I’m going to transform you into if you don’t help me.”
She slapped the book shut, nearly catching the tip of his nose. Without giving him time to think about her threat, she strode to the edge of the beach. “Well?”
To her amazement, Slash hurried to join her. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”
“Good.” Her heart thudded with excitement. He believed her. She had stood her ground, confident and in control. She should have been terrified. Slash was a hobgoblin, and everything about him screamed
danger!
Yet she wasn’t afraid, and Slash didn’t know how to handle it.
This time Slash followed close behind as she set out across the beach. As before, the lizard-fish hurried out of the water but stopped a short distance beyond the lanterns. Several tried to scurry around to attack from behind, but Slash swung his lantern back and forth, splashing drops of burning muck. One splashed a lizard-fish’s tail.
With a high-pitched squeal, it raced back into the water. The still-burning flame was a blue glow disappearing into the depths of the lake.
“I didn’t know they could make noise,” Slash said. He shook his spear, trying to splash more lizard-fish. “Ha! Look at that. They run like scared goblins.”
Veka glared but said nothing.
Slash shook his lantern again. The butt of his spear jabbed Veka in the side, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make her stumble. Her lantern dropped into the sand.
“Oops,” said Slash.
Veka tried to get her staff through the handle, but the lantern had fallen on its side. Already the remaining muck oozed out through the broken panels of glass. By the time she got it upright, only a tiny bit of muck remained, emitting a feeble green flame.
The lizard-fish closed in around her. She smashed the lantern onto the nearest, then glanced back at the tunnel. The lizard-fish had closed in behind them, cutting her off. The edge of the lake was only a few paces away.