The Improbable Adventures of Scar and Potbelly: Ice Terraces of Crystal Crag (7 page)

“Now that you mention it, yes. There is no way it was big enough for this one room, let alone an entire other one out back.”

“Must be magical.”

Scar nodded. “That would make sense”

A moment later, Tork emerged with a rolled piece of cloth. He handed it to Scar. “Here is the map.”

Scar took the map and laid it on the table. He then produced their part of the map and set the two pieces together.

The map clearly showed the Sorba Sea; Castin was noted as well as several other towns dotting the coastline. There was a large section missing that would fill in the region north and east of the Sea.

“The final piece is in the keeping of Matlin,” Tork said. He indicated a city up the coast from Castin not far from where the missing piece began. “From Cara, you will find an old wagon trail leading up into the mountains.

“Last I heard, Matlin lived in a cabin somewhere up there.”

“I have a question.”

Tork glanced to Potbelly. “Yes?”

“Why didn’t you, Old Jim and Matlin claim the treasure for yourselves?”

He sat back in his chair and rubbed the patch over his eye. “Now that, my young fellow, is a long story.” He sighed. “One which I shall not get into right now.”

“But the treasure
is
there?” Scar asked.

“Oh, yes. More than you can carry.”

“How do you know?”

He leaned forward and eyed Scar. “Because I saw it.”

“And you left it?” Scar asked incredulously. “You didn’t take it with you?”

“Believe it or not, there are more important things in this world than the accumulation of wealth. Wealth breeds greed, greed breeds thieves, troubles and death. Frankly, none of that appeals to me.” He gestured to include his living area. “I have all I need right here.”

Scar shook his head at such foreign, and in his mind idiotic, ideas.

“Will this Matlin be willing to part with his piece?” Potbelly asked.

“Most likely. Like me and Jimbo, he’s grown old, too old to do anything about this any longer.”

“
Most
likely
?” Scar didn’t like the sound of that. “So this may be all for naught if he doesn’t want to part with his?”

“Won’t know until you get there,” Tork said.

Potbelly stood by the window looking out at Garrock and his men.

“They’re taking up positions around the hut.”

Scar moved to his side and saw Garrock spitting orders to his men, and them moving into position along the outer boundary of Tork’s property.

“Can you help us get out of here?” Potbelly asked the mage.

“I will not do anything directly against them,” he replied, “as long as they respect my boundaries.”

“Then what good are you?” spat Scar.

Tork’s eyes narrowed. “Watch what you say else you may find yourself all trussed and handed over to them.”

“What my friend meant to say,” Potbelly said, interjecting himself between the two, “was, is there any way for us to leave undetected? We have a ship at the docks we need to catch before sunrise.”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. No secret tunnels or means magical by which you can sneak off.”

“Then we should leave soon before the sun comes up,” Scar said. “Be easier.”

“Marginally,” Potbelly replied.

“You have any better ideas?”

“I have one.”

They turned to Tork. “What?” asked Scar.

“I have a spell I’ve been working on that might prove helpful. It won’t get you to your ship in time, but it should allow you to make it through yonder ring of men.”

Scar looked skeptical.

“What is it?” Potbelly asked.

“Transmutation.”

“What?” Scar asked.

“I can change you into wolves.”

Scar spat. “Wolves?”

Tork nodded. “I have experienced good progress with it and need someone to test it on.”

“I don’t think so,” Scar said while Potbelly asked, “How long would it last?”

“Three to five hours,” he explained.

“We would never make it to the ship,” Scar argued.

“We’re not going to make it as it is,” Potbelly insisted.

Outside, more men had arrived, at least there bearing crossbows. Against swordsmen they might have been able to fight their way through; but crossbowmen? That was a whole other kettle of fish.

“You need to get out of here alive before considering anything else,” Tork said. “I’m merely offering my service, free of charge I might add, to aid you in your endeavor.”

“No,” Scar said, “you want to experiment on us and see if your spell works.”

“But it will. I give you my word.

Scar didn’t look convinced.

“What about our belongings?” Potbelly asked.

“We’ll tie them to your backs. Then once you return to your human form, you will be able to change back into your clothes.”

“Clothes?”

Tork nodded. “Of course. You didn’t think your clothes would change with you. No, for the spell to work, you must be naked.”

Several more crossbowmen had joined the others and it looked like Garrock had an army forming out there.

“We may not have a choice.”

Scar glanced to Potbelly, then assessed the growing situation outside. He turned to Tork. “Are you absolutely positive this will work? And that we will return to exactly the way we are now?”

“Yes.”

One last look at the growing number of men, and Scar gave in. “So be it.”

He and Potbelly disrobed and secured their belongings into tight bundles which Tork would secure to them once they had changed.

“There is a trade road that runs inland along the coast that will take you to Cara. Once beyond Garrock’s men, head northeast and you will come across it.” He showed them where it would be on the map before packing them away.

Scar shivered as there was a definite chill in the air.

“You should get down on all fours,” Tork advised. “Might make this easier.”

“It isn’t going to hurt, will it?” Potbelly asked.

Tork took his staff and raised it, then he shrugged. “Haven’t a clue. Be sure to get word back to me if it does.”

“Wait…” Scar began.

The staff sprang to life, bathing the inside of the hut with amber light. Tork gathered magic to him as he spoke words of power.

Pain shot through their bodies; bones cracked; skin stretched and fur grew profusely. Seconds of indescribably agony ticked by as their bodies changed. Cries turned to snarls. When the amber glow subsided, where Scar and Potbelly had knelt, now stood two dark timber wolves. Much larger than the average wolf, they were very strong and very powerful.

“I figured if I wanted to be an animal, I should be one that can overcome anything I might encounter.”

Scar snarled and nipped at him.

Tork batted his head away with the end of his staff.

“Be still while I secure your belongings to you.”

Using rope, he bound the packs securely to their backs.

“There is only about an hour of night left before dawn,” he told them. “Move fast and make use of the forms you have. You can cover great distances quickly. Garrock will never be able to catch you.”

As he moved to the door, he said, “Best of luck.”

Snarls were his reply.

Cracking the door open, he waved them forward. “Be swift, be silent.”

Once out the door, they split up. Scar went to the right, Potbelly to the left. They kept to the darker shadows against the base of the hut as long as they could; then a moment only to gauge the men on the sides of the clearing.

Powerful muscles bunched and then released. With a snarl, they shot for the trees. Three bounds and they reached Garrock’s line of men. So unexpected was their appearance that men fled in terror at the sight of the timber wolves upon them.

Scar’s teeth ripped a man’s calf open as he passed. A moment later and they were lost among the trees. He reveled in the power of this body. Moving faster than he ever had, he felt invincible.

They rejoined each other a mile or into the forest. From there, they headed northeast at a run and searched for the trade route Tork mentioned.

“What game are you playing at, Tork?”

The old mage stood by his dragon statue with Garrock and his men gathered before him.

“No game.”

“You knew we wanted those men yet you let them escape?” Garrock was furious.

“I did no such thing,” Tork replied. “Had your men been any good, or at the very least more vigil, they would not have allowed them to leave.”

Garrock’s glare promised retribution. And though the thug had little chance of killing him, Tork knew that he could make life unpleasant for him. Quiet solitude for his researches was what he wanted. He was in no small amount piqued at Scar and Potbelly for disturbing that.

“The boys you want are on a treasure hunt.”

Glare turned to interest. “Treasure hunt you say?”

Tork nodded. “They acquired part of the map from me and are on the way to Cara for the rest.”

“Is this on the level?”

“Oh, yes. The treasure is real.”

“What part do you have to play in this?”

Tork sighed. “I merely held my section of the map for a friend. It has been collected and so my part in this is over.” Garrock was about to speak and Tork held up a hand to stop him. “If you plan to get the treasure for yourselves you best not stand here talking to me. Or the boys will beat you to it.”

Garrock’s eyes narrowed again. “This isn’t over between us.” To one of his men he said, “Go get the horses and meet us at Gryer’s Gap.” As the man left, Garrock turned to Tork. “We’ll settle this when we get back.”

Tork remained silent until Garrock and his men departed. Then under his breath he said, “
If
you get back.” Chuckling, he returned to his hut.

Loping along on all fours wasn’t as bad as they had thought; even with the packs and weapons strapped to their backs they kept a good pace. Communication between them was rudimentary at best. There simply were very few words in the wolf tongue. Most were merely conveyed emotions.

The power they felt was exhilarating. And the fear they instilled in all who saw them was primal. One couple fled into the woods, another rider nearly fell from the saddle; Scar had raced between the horse’s legs out of pure orneriness.

But such fun was not to last. Potbelly was the first to revert back. Returning to human form was just as, if not more, painful than transmuting to wolf. He had been loping along at a good clip when the pain struck. He stumbled and crashed into the ground. A minute later he was human.

After quickly donning his clothes and buckling on his weapons, he and wolf-Scar continued on their way. An hour later, Scar’s transformation began.

“Man, am I glad that’s over with,” Scar said as he stood naked in the middle of the road.

Potbelly helped him remove the ropes securing his packs and weapons.

“If not for the pain,” he said, “I wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

“Indeed.”

The sun was high in the sky by that time and the stretch of blue above promised a warm day.

“Let’s take a look at that map again,” Potbelly said. “I’d like to know how much farther we will need to travel before reaching Cara.”

They moved off the road a bit and found a large rock with mostly a flat surface. Laying the pieces on top, they traced their route.

Scar pointed to a dot not far beyond Castin along the trade route. “Since we didn’t pass through there, I would guess it is still ahead of us.”

“Makes sense,” Potbelly replied. “If that’s the case, we may have several days travel before we get to Cara.”

“Maybe they will have horses for sale.”

“I hope so,” Potbelly replied. “Else we will be foot sore.”

“Come on, maybe we can make it before sundown.”

Scar’s prediction proved accurate for the outlying buildings of a small settlement appeared amongst the trees less than two hours later.

Only six building abutted the road while more laid scattered throughout the surrounding forest. One was an inn with a stable in the back. Looking to be the only place with horses, they headed that way.

A rather large girl barely in her twenties busied herself sweeping just within the doorway. From the small common room came the sound of muted conversation. She looked up at their entry, paused in her sweeping and said, “Good day.”

“A good day to you, too,” Potbelly replied.

“Need a room?”

“No…” began Potbelly.