shadows of Chief Al’Rul’s tent, a heavy cowl
pulled over his face. His magic had taken its toll on his new body,
aging it into a withered old elf. He would need fresh blood soon or
else he would have to find a new vessel to inhabit.
Chief Al’Rul’s eyes simmered in silent rage.
“We are always ready to spill blood.”
“Good, yes, very good. I suppose you have
been wondering how you and your party are to ascend to the city. I
know you may play the role of a brute but I’m sure there’s more to
you that meets the eye than just a bunch of fur.” Luthen smiled,
thinking of how wonderful the Phooka’s flesh would feel ripped from
the bones by his teeth. The world of the living had made him
ravenous.
“Come, follow me,” said Luthen, “I have a
surprise for you.” He slipped from the Chief’s tent and into the
open darkness of the Alainia’s under belly. Down in its center was
a lake with deep, murky water. Luthen approached the water’s edge
and dipped the tip of his gnarled finger into its inky surface.
Soft blue flame bloomed in the water into a large circle. The soft
fluttering curtains of the palace’s main corridor rippled across
the glassy water.
“Age before beauty,” he said, cackling, as he
plunged into the wavering doorway.
Luthen found himself standing alone in the
quiet hall. He knew it would take a moment for the Phooka to
follow. Such beasts were always wary of strange magic.
Luthen reached into his cloak and pulled out
an hourglass crafted into an obsidian top. It had taken him hours
to find. Nothing looked the same as he had left it over three
hundred years ago. He finally found his loosened stone tile
underneath a heavy woven rug. Prying the stone up with his fingers,
his heart was giddy to find the same small wooden box he had placed
there so many years before.
He filled the top end of the hourglass full
with sand and sat it on the snow colored stone. With a flick of his
wrist, he sent it spinning. After a few revolutions, it slowed as
if twirling under water until it dwindled to a stop.
Silver curtains hung motionless in the air.
The sounds of the night melted into the sullen quiet of stopped
time. The outside world stood still. Luthen smiled at the thought
of the city slumbering peacefully through the slaughter of its
royal family.
A great splash erupted behind him and slammed
into the floor. Luthen rolled his eyes. At least he didn’t need
require mercenaries with grace .
“ What in the nine dwarvish hells was
that? ” Fanger shook the murky water from his fur, his eyes
blazing. Luthen shrugged a lazy shoulder, dismissing the Phooka’s
outrage.
“It could be worse,” he said, a smile melting
into his wrinkled lip. “I could have been playing a prank on your
war party. You could be trapped in the mud at the bottom of that
filthy lake right now. Drowning in mud is far worse than the
regular sort of drowning. Maybe I could show you sometime.”
Two more splashes exploded behind the fuming
Phooka. Then three, then four more mercenaries appeared, all
disheveled and grunting with annoyance. The last that came was
Chief Al’Rul. He shook his great mane without a word.
“I have some simple rules before we begin,”
said Luthen, shaking the water from his cloak. “First of all, the
queen is not to be touched by any of your kind. She is mine and
mine alone. Second, you only have an hour to do your business and
be gone. And finally, of course, if any of you disobey, I will skin
alive and use your fur as a rug.” Luthen’s eye burned into the
fiery yellow glare of the Phooka. “This place could use with some
redecorating.”
***
Evanna jerked awake, her chest rumbling from
the force of a great roar. Her first thoughts were of thunder, but
something about the roar chilled her very bones. She jumped up from
the stool at her vanity and rushed to the window, sending her
needlework clattering onto the floor. The sky was clear and full of
stars. A brimming moon
pulled over his face. His magic had taken its toll on his new body,
aging it into a withered old elf. He would need fresh blood soon or
else he would have to find a new vessel to inhabit.
Chief Al’Rul’s eyes simmered in silent rage.
“We are always ready to spill blood.”
“Good, yes, very good. I suppose you have
been wondering how you and your party are to ascend to the city. I
know you may play the role of a brute but I’m sure there’s more to
you that meets the eye than just a bunch of fur.” Luthen smiled,
thinking of how wonderful the Phooka’s flesh would feel ripped from
the bones by his teeth. The world of the living had made him
ravenous.
“Come, follow me,” said Luthen, “I have a
surprise for you.” He slipped from the Chief’s tent and into the
open darkness of the Alainia’s under belly. Down in its center was
a lake with deep, murky water. Luthen approached the water’s edge
and dipped the tip of his gnarled finger into its inky surface.
Soft blue flame bloomed in the water into a large circle. The soft
fluttering curtains of the palace’s main corridor rippled across
the glassy water.
“Age before beauty,” he said, cackling, as he
plunged into the wavering doorway.
Luthen found himself standing alone in the
quiet hall. He knew it would take a moment for the Phooka to
follow. Such beasts were always wary of strange magic.
Luthen reached into his cloak and pulled out
an hourglass crafted into an obsidian top. It had taken him hours
to find. Nothing looked the same as he had left it over three
hundred years ago. He finally found his loosened stone tile
underneath a heavy woven rug. Prying the stone up with his fingers,
his heart was giddy to find the same small wooden box he had placed
there so many years before.
He filled the top end of the hourglass full
with sand and sat it on the snow colored stone. With a flick of his
wrist, he sent it spinning. After a few revolutions, it slowed as
if twirling under water until it dwindled to a stop.
Silver curtains hung motionless in the air.
The sounds of the night melted into the sullen quiet of stopped
time. The outside world stood still. Luthen smiled at the thought
of the city slumbering peacefully through the slaughter of its
royal family.
A great splash erupted behind him and slammed
into the floor. Luthen rolled his eyes. At least he didn’t need
require mercenaries with grace .
“ What in the nine dwarvish hells was
that? ” Fanger shook the murky water from his fur, his eyes
blazing. Luthen shrugged a lazy shoulder, dismissing the Phooka’s
outrage.
“It could be worse,” he said, a smile melting
into his wrinkled lip. “I could have been playing a prank on your
war party. You could be trapped in the mud at the bottom of that
filthy lake right now. Drowning in mud is far worse than the
regular sort of drowning. Maybe I could show you sometime.”
Two more splashes exploded behind the fuming
Phooka. Then three, then four more mercenaries appeared, all
disheveled and grunting with annoyance. The last that came was
Chief Al’Rul. He shook his great mane without a word.
“I have some simple rules before we begin,”
said Luthen, shaking the water from his cloak. “First of all, the
queen is not to be touched by any of your kind. She is mine and
mine alone. Second, you only have an hour to do your business and
be gone. And finally, of course, if any of you disobey, I will skin
alive and use your fur as a rug.” Luthen’s eye burned into the
fiery yellow glare of the Phooka. “This place could use with some
redecorating.”
***
Evanna jerked awake, her chest rumbling from
the force of a great roar. Her first thoughts were of thunder, but
something about the roar chilled her very bones. She jumped up from
the stool at her vanity and rushed to the window, sending her
needlework clattering onto the floor. The sky was clear and full of
stars. A brimming moon
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