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WARNING: This story is intended for mature audiences only. Burning Servetus By Jacquie Windsor March 2003 Heretics all, whoever you be, In Tarbes or Nimes, or over the sea, You never shall have good words from me. Caritas non conturbat me. But Catholic men that live upon wine Are deep in the water, and frank, and fine. Benedicamus Domino." --Hilaire Belloc Chapter I - Nets Culleybrook was something less than a town and slightly more than a rabble after a series of disruptive events. One year before, a company of mounted troops had entered the place and killed the local vicar, replacing his administration with a council of their own archers. A thoroughly petty fellow named Edwin Sipe, who approved of cannibalism among other things, led this council. The local weavers' guild was shattered. Several of its finest artisans were branded or, worse, sacrificed live on a stone block within a grove not far from the village. Half the people either left or became victimised, directly by the invaders or indirectly by starvation, while the remaining half prayed for deliverance. After 160 days had passed since the arrival of Edwin Sipe, a semi-ethereal, blue-tinged humanoid appeared at the ford near the entrance to Culleybrook. For Leopold, a deeply mystical apprentice scribe, this was an apparition of deliverance. He did what he had done at the arrival of Edwin Sipe and his heretics. He went out to the nearby trees and hid. Once again, he dreaded the inevitable slaughter or exodus of the townsfolk. This time, again, he noticed a smaller fellow huddled beneath a shedding pine. As before, the fellow vanished by the time the screaming subsided from the direction of Culleybrook. Leopold expected to find another pile of dead villagers wielding dull axes as weapons, but was surprised to find, instead, the corpses of the invaders. Edwin Sipe was not among them. The blue apparition stood near an empty fountain in the marketplace, sipping casually from a metal goblet, when Leopold ventured back into the small town. The cannibalistic rangers lay motionless on the ground, with agony crossing their lifeless faces. The ghostly visitor frightened enough of the remaining villagers that another half of those remaining also departed, until scarcely two score were left in the place. The stranger, in spite of its ragged clothes, commanded the respect of those hearty enough or naive enough to stay. As its regalia of office, it grasped a hooked staff, hung a sickle from its belt, and wore a cubic medallion on a chain around its neck. Since the immediate concern was starvation, two of the oldest citizens approached the being and petitioned it for help. The next day, the old men led everyone down to the brook, which teemed with fish, and the happy group cast some nets (left by the weavers) into the water and retrieved enough food to last two fortnights. Leopold was stuffed. He was surprised, a few days later, as he wandered towards the forest in search of honey, when the being with the blue aura pointed in his direction and then at the charred and vacant tavern near the path out of town. "You are an orphan and a dreamer," the stranger told him, without moving its lips. Leopold rubbed his chin, where the furry strings of a virgin beard softened his jawbone. "In forty days, I am gone. You have foreseen it." "How's that?" asked the young apprentice. "I haven't foreseen anything." "You have, Leopold. Your incessant dreaming brought me here. When I killed the rangers, it was because you wanted me to. When the townspeople needed to eat, you got them fish. I am an agent of your imagination, an elder of a distant time, and slightly unsettled that you brought me here rather than allow me to rest in my grave." "Oh shoot, sorry," Leopold replied. "Apology is neither needed nor accepted," retorted the apparition. "I shall exact my own price, since the undead are allowed to do that sort of thing. Within forty days, I won't be here any longer, and the price will be repaid." "Ooooo," Leopold babbled, "I don't like the sound of that." As the days slipped by, Leopold stayed at the tavern with the odd-looking deliverer. He discovered that the cubic medallion around the creature's, his tutor's, neck, was actually a small and dense book. The student copied the style of writing and followed the blue-tinged fellow through the countryside, learning the associated names of things to go along with the symbols in the book. None of the other people of Culleybrook heard a word of what the new arrival said, since his speech seemed to be audible just to Leopold. Almost anyone else would have taken this as a sign of status, yet the apprentice was ignorant of the schemes of politics, and kept to learning as much as he could while time allowed it. "Those black and grinding shapes you see when you dream," said the apparition one day, "are the portals through which you gain expression. Some day, if you try hard enough, you will be able to take lessons from the things they represent." This revelation shook Leopold. He knew the kind of dream that the ghostly figure talked about. It was not a pleasant experience. If anything, the simple appearance of those dark shapes woke him up in the middle of the night. They were scarier than actual nightmares, and they seemed to happen on the verge of falling asleep. "I would rather keep on learning about writing," Leopold confessed, rubbing his tufted head of hair. "The alphabets and words don't frighten you," said the apparition. "No." The pale humanoid visitor stared at him for a moment. Leopold looked up from the tavern table, scattered with sheets of old parchment taken from the offices of the vicar who used to keep order in the small town. "You had to pause so I would admit that's ridiculous. Because the symbols I'm writing are the same as the black shapes. Right?" The apparition's bony shoulders moved, yet it remained quiet. Once forty days had passed since its arrival, true to its word, the deliverer vanished during the night. This left uneasiness in Culleybrook, so Leopold gathered his parchments and took them out to a part of the forest he knew well enough. He found a hollow, nearly protected on all sides from the elements by fallen logs and overgrowth, and stored six small packages there. They contained his reference material to the contents of the small dictionary that hung from the creature's neck. The leaderless community treated Leopold with aloofness when the pair of elders asked him, then, to produce fish from the river as the blue creature had done. The young man was unable to repeat the phenomenon. He didn't even know how to begin to repeat it. After a few days of finding himself ignored, the apprentice packed his clothes and went out to the hollow to stay. He hoped that, given a few days, the townspeople would forgive him for not living up to their expectations. To his surprise, he found the smaller fellow he'd seen before, taking apart his packages of manuscript in the hollow. "Hold it right there or I'll shoot you," he warned, approaching the intruder while his back was turned. The smaller boy turned around and stared at Leopold. "Shoot me? With what? Your cape?" "You weren't supposed to turn around. I might've had a bow." "Well, a bookworm with a bow is about as scary as a bookworm without one." "Who are you?" asked Leopold. He tried to avoid the obvious implications of the other boy's impudence. "I'm the Bishop Of Lake-O-River." Leopold spat and laughed. "Yeah, you look like a bishop in your urchin's rags and no shoes." "My diocese is a little behind on their gifts, that's all." "How do you know about bishops and dioceses and all that? You live out here in the forest, don't you?" "I didn't always live in the forests. It's just simpler." The smaller fellow's feet were oddly shaped. As Leopold looked closer, he saw that the boy's feet were almost hoofed. "You're not even a human, are you?" "Three quarters or nine eighths human. Something like that." "What's your name, kid?" asked Leopold. He introduced himself. "Daffyd." "Daffy? Well, I guess it fits." "It's actually Daffyd. Doesn't even sound like 'Daffy'." The forest-dweller shrugged. "Well, it sounds a bit like Daffy, I guess." Leopold sat down, partly out of fear this new acquaintance would steal his belongings if he went back to town, and chatted idly about what had been happening in Culleybrook. As he related the story, he realised how depressing it sounded. "Stuff like that happens," Daffy explained nonchalantly, "because your vicar was a heretic." "How can a vicar be a heretic?" Leopold asked. His understanding of religion was blurry at best. Culleybrook's cleric did not often celebrate festivals. Some of the weavers had told the villagers about opulent feasts and ceremonies in distant towns. "It isn't just feasting," laughed Daffy. "It's what you believe in. That kind of thing." Leopold recounted some of his dreams and his enjoyment of writing. "That's what I believe in." "You would know what comes to you in those dreams, then," Daffy mused out loud. "Well, I don't know all about them, you know, completely. But I am pretty sure I understand." "Let's see if you've ever seen this before. Just follow me. It isn't far away." Leopold followed Daffy out of the hollow and down one of several vague paths running through the trees surrounding Culleybrook. After a vigorous jaunt, the pair came to a shallow cave set in a rock formation. Daffy motioned Leopold inside. There were ashes scattered over the floor, and the cloven-footed boy explained that this was his home. In the deepest corner of the stone cave, Daffy pointed at a long shaft of dark metal that lay upon the floor, partially covered with dirt and ash. "That's what I was talking about." "It looks like a sword of some kind," Leopold postulated. "Genius! It is a sword." Leopold nudged past the smaller boy and leaned over to retrieve the weapon. Daffy yelled at him. "Don't touch it!" "Why? What's the..." Then Leopold's shriek pierced the half-lit cave. "Be damned! That hurt! Why didn't you tell me, you little imp?" "I did," protested Daffy. "You went and grabbed it anyhow. I meant just look at it." "Must be a cursed weapon," said Leopold, glancing at the sword and soothing the welt appearing on his hand where he had seized the hilt. "No. Look at it closely. You were telling me about these shapes that appeared to you. I just wanted to know if they were anything like that there on the handle." Leopold brushed away some of the debris with a stick. The hilt of the weapon was covered with embossed shapes. He agreed with Daffy; the geometry of the raised symbols reminded him of the creeping dreams. "I don't get it, really, because if those symbols are something from my own mind, I shouldn't be cursed when I touch it." "Maybe it's because you're a heretic," shrugged Daffy. "Well what does it do to you when you touch it?" "I don't. I'm not a heretic. I won't carry an edged weapon." Leopold's frustration grew. Here was an object that held significance for him, yet there seemed to be no practical use for it. The sky darkened as afternoon became evening. He excused himself from Daffy's cave, believing that he couldn't fall asleep with this object nearby. The two parted company, agreeing to meet the next day. Daffy explained that he knew how to get sustenance from the forest itself, and that that way they would be less dependent on the village. "I still want to go back. I can't see spending my life out here in the woods. Besides, I thought I might be able to take one of the dinghies and use it to get to a real town. There's just not a lot of scribbling to do in a place like Culleybrook." That cool evening, Leopold huddled in his bleak log hollow, trying to fall asleep. After his eyes closed, the image of the sword's hilt appeared. The shapes on the hilt began to grind and a jolt caused his leg to kick unconsciously, shaking him out of the near slumber. His eyes opened again, and a resignation to the frightful experience of sleep soothed his racing imagination. "Each night I die," he thought. "I wish it would just go away." A rattle in the distance came with the second attempt to fall asleep. Leopold believed he was yet awake, standing, turning his head slowly as though it was sinking in a tar pit. The grinding shapes were there again, this time hissing as well. The noise seemed to move straight through his skull, from one ear to the other. "Damn it. I'm not a heretic. That little creep is wrong." The shapes kept after him once Leopold returned to consciousness. His bleary eyes saw them arranged in one sequence after another. They swam against a grey background, like water, but giving him the sense that it was something else. The grey became translucent as the grinding blocks continued to threaten from within. A blue shining light warmed the fluid. "That apparition. It's that kind of blue." Leopold rubbed his eyes. But it was not his fingers against his eyelids. It was someone else's. "I'm still asleep. This can't be." The rattling sound bounced around inside his head. He felt cold and alone. The feeling of loneliness forced him to awaken. "I'm not awake. I'm still asleep." This time, Leopold heard the sound of his own voice. "I'm not asleep. Okay, damn, I'm awake." He rubbed his eyes, pulling his hands away twice to make sure they were his. "I'm going crazy. I know it. I just want to fall asleep normally some day." It took longer for Leopold to fall into slumber. He retrieved a few of his parchments, looking at the arrangements of symbols he had written a few days before. The edges of the symbols formed patterns as he stared at them. The figures themselves were angular and unimpressive. Yet in the deep purple darkness of the night sky, Leopold noticed that the arrangement of ink strokes formed something else in the background. "This style of writing must have two meanings rather than one," he thought. "There's a geometry in the spaces in between. If only I knew exactly what it was. Might cure this horror once and for all." "Horror," came a nearly inaudible voice. It repeated amid a grinding sound. It was like the stuttering of a human voice, vibrating slow and deep. Leopold whirled around, or tried to. His head was immersed in an invisible molasses. His heart pounded in terror. He knew he had fallen asleep again. Leopold reminded himself he was asleep as he slept and dreamed. His tongue felt parched and too large for his mouth. He squinted for a moment, because he thought he saw a figure writhing inside the dark churning shadows. The dream seemed to last an eternity. When Leopold's eyes opened for the twentieth time, it was not to merely experience the recurrence of the damned nightmare. There was a shadow cast over his face as the morning sun appeared through a thin layer of cloud. "You're squirming like a stuck pig," Daffy intoned. "You're the shadow, all thanks to my lucky quill," groaned Leopold. Daffy rolled his eyes. His new neighbour in the forest wasn't like most of the true humans he knew. He spoke strangely about things like lucky quills and dark things. He was perplexing and interesting. Leopold reinforced that in Daffy's mind as he related the content of the nightmare. He used imprecise language and omitted details of his own growing fear of sleep itself. "Hey. What are you doing hanging around this place anyhow?" "Bored of hunting, I guess," answered the halfling. "What do you hunt with?" asked Leopold. He noticed an ineffective mallet hanging from the loose belt slung from Daffy's hips. It would be tough to hammer a quail into a supper entr?e. "This," said his new friend. He pulled out a series of tubes from his pocket and fit them together as a blowgun. "And these." He showed a sash pinned through with darts. "Wow, you can hit things with that?" "Watch." Daffy pulled one of the darts out, placed it in the tube and pointed at a yellow fruit hanging from a tree. It sat about one hundred metres away. He knelt and paused, not breathing, for a half second, then blew. The fruit fell from its branch. "That's pretty good," nodded Leopold. He crawled to his feet. A slight dizziness caused him to stagger, and he became aware of a stinging in his right ear. "Are you all right?" "Yes, of course," Leopold lied. "Just stood up too quick, that's all." Daffy excused himself to retrieve his dart. A movement near a tree just to his right distracted Leopold. He turned quickly and saw a shimmering blue shape next to the tree. "I can move, so I can't be asleep." He squinted, trying to understand what the shape meant. At first, once he had determined that he was really awake, he assumed that the form was a return of the entity who had shown him the writing. Daffy caught Leopold staring once he returned with the projectile safely stuck into his sash. "Tell me I'm not nuts. Is there something over there by that tree?" Daffy stood motionless. He saw a blue shimmering shape in the direction Leopold pointed. "What did you do?" he demanded of Leopold. "Nothing! It's just there!" The two acquaintances stared at the glow. As they did, its form became less transparent by the second. In a few minutes, amid the silence of the wooded hills, the outline of a woman became evident. The translucent blue ebbed into a faint aqua tinge, and a layer of fur grew around the apparition's torso. As the two young fellows watched, the being approached. "I don't know about this," Daffy admitted, "this seems a whole lot like necromancy to me. I've never seen anything like it." "What? A woman wearing fur? I've heard of it before." Leopold regarded Daffy with an indifferent shrug. Unlike the apparition who had liberated Culleybrook, this creature seemed very human, with cool eyes, and a pale blue skin, mostly concealed by the furs she wore. The strangest thing about her appearance was an empty scabbard slung from the fur worn around her belly and hips. Leopold felt bold. He walked towards her and introduced himself. "And who are you? If you're friends with the blue apparition who freed Culleybrook, then you're all right. I mean, no problem." "I'm, uh, I'm Adam. Adam Geroux." Leopold cast his gaze to the ground. He wondered why this apparition would make such a foolish suggestion. "Adam's a boy's name," he said. There was no reply. As he looked up, he saw the apparition checking itself beneath its fur clothes. "Shit, you're right!" Leopold looked back at Daffy. The smaller creature had retreated behind another tree. Daffy suspected arcane power, and knew now that this unusual human was involved with things far beyond his understanding. "I don't know that word, 'shit'," said Leopold. "Is that an incantation or something?" "No, you fucking moron. It's plain English," said Adam. "Anguish? You're in pain. I know a bit of medicine," offered Leopold. "No!" screamed the pale blue-skinned woman. "I am speaking plain English, and I'd like to know just what you've done to bring me here." Daffy heard the woman's plea explicitly. He was convinced. The human heretic from Culleybrook was not simply unusual. He was a summoner and a necromancer. He was dark and dangerous. "Where's that little shit going off to?" Adam demanded. "To shoot some fruit, probably," Leopold said. "By the way, your boob's kind of falling out there, Adam." "It's rotten enough that I've been brought here," said the woman with the aqua skin, "but you've obviously done more than change just my location. I could really use a bra." "Don't know what that is, woman." "Jesus, can you not call me 'woman'?" "Well I'm not going to call you 'Adam'. It doesn't even make any sense." "Think of something then. What's a normal woman's name here? Back in Bolger something like 'Maria' or 'Jill' would work fine." "I knew a girl named Kimberley that looked pretty close to you," Leopold suggested. "Nice and cuddly chubby with big boobs like yours. I had hoped to marry her some day, except..." The apprentice stared at the forest floor. Kimberley was slain during a blood rite after the rangers came to Culleybrook. He quietly hoped that the newcomer would find the name unsatisfactory, as the memory of her loss made him nearly weep. "Kimberley's fine. Maybe Kim. You use short forms here, I imagine." "Kim will do," shrugged Leopold. He'd never called his lost love by that name. "I don't get it, though. Where are you actually from? How do you figure you're here instead of wherever you came from?" Kim looked about. "You, Mister Necromancer, are what we call a dream usurper where I come from. I've seen you before. Only you're a little bit more (how shall I say?) threatening, imposing, something, than you appear." "So you just go back and wake up? When you wake up?" "Not that fucking simple," Kim mumbled. "Going back that way kills you. That's it. Dead as dead. So I'm kind of fucking stuck here unless I can figure out a different way back. In some fat girl's body." "Whoa," Leopold said. "You're anything but fat. Healthy is what you are." "Pleasingly plump," Kim chuckled. "Great. I was a triathlete, well, a weekend triathlete, back in Bolger." "I don't know what that try-whatever is," replied Leopold, "but there is a Bolger around here somewhere. It's called Bolger's Vale to tell you the exact truth." "That's terrific," Kim almost shrieked. "Off we go, then. I'm sure that I'll find out whatever I need to know there. If there's a way here then there's a way back." "You're very optimistic. I like that. It's very rare in these parts." Kim felt her throat with her fingers. Something was choking her. She coughed and noticed a drop of blood drop from her nose onto her bare feet. "What's wrong?" asked Leopold. "I don't know. It's like I'm feeling sicker by the minute. Like I'm about to choke or something. Just a second. Let me sit down. I don't know what the fuck's wrong." Leopold saw Kim's entire physical form become less and less opaque, by small measures. Nothing he'd learned could help him. "Wait here. If anybody knows anything about all of this, it's that little sit you saw a while ago." "Shit, not sit, you dummy. Well, you better fucking get him here in a hurry, because my whole throat feels like it's about to melt or explode." Leopold resisted the urge to grab his belongings before hunting for Daffy deeper in the forest. There was nothing in his hollow that could be used as protection, and the girl was not going to go anywhere with his treasured parchments. He headed out of the clearing and found himself on a track between the trees. The tracks were probably made by blacktusks. The villagers in Culleybrook stayed out of the trees partly because of the blacktusks. Although the six-legged creatures were known to be herbivorous, their size and speed made them popular beasts in frightening tales told to children. Fully grown, the rotund creatures could outweigh two men. Leopold hoped that he'd find Daffy soon. Nevertheless, he looked around frequently in case one of the monsters decided to race down the track. "Hey. Bookworm." Leopold looked around then up into tree off to one side of the track. Daffy was sitting on a branch. The apprentice talked him into coming down and explained what had happened to Kim. He asked for help. "I'm not sure I can. And, besides, why should I?" "Well, how about because I don't want a corpse sitting around where I sleep?" Daffy laughed and stared sideways at Leopold. "You're a necromancer. Why would a corpse scare you?" Leopold was about to quarrel with the assertion. However, the smaller creature was keeping up with him as he began to walk back along the path from his camp. "You aren't at all suspicious about this," Daffy continued. "I don't think it's every day that a girl, who used to be a guy, suddenly appears out in front of you like that." "Well, the deliverer was the same way," Leopold countered. "It came out of nowhere and even taught me a new language." "Yeah. And then disappeared right when your people needed him the most. That's a really good example, Leopold. I'm glad to know I'm hanging around with a kebeting fool." Leopold swung around, thinking he'd heard a noise in the underbrush. "If you're looking for blacktusks, weird one, don't worry. They were hunted out a while ago." "But the villagers don't hunt," Leopold said, somewhat crossly. "Not by you losers," Daffy replied. "By an elf fly." He described a tiny winged creature that shot poisoned darts. The blacktusks were attacked in their hollows and tracked until the poison took effect. The pursuits would last up to a week. "I never know if you're telling the truth or just taunting me," said Leopold. "Both. You're such an easy target." Daffy sneezed and laughed at once. "I'm a crazy idiot to try and humour you, Leo. But you really do take it good. For a moron." "If I didn't need your help, I wouldn't be in such good humour. You can believe that. And I know you'll be able to help somehow. You look healthier than almost anyone from Culleybrook, and we don't live out in the woods." "OK. Of course I will. I'm walking there with you. I'm not a dimwit. I know you're talking me along the path back to your dump. But, think about it, this girl comes out of nowhere, and not only is she blue. She's also able to speak our language like she actually isn't from somewhere else." "She called me a dream usurper. There's nothing strange about it. When I dream or fall asleep or try to fall asleep, the voices I hear aren't speaking some kind of magical language. They're speaking plain Arduroyan. Just like me and you." Leopold's logic made Daffy ponder as they approached the clearing some yards ahead. He tossed out his hand in resignation. "You got me there. I guess you're right. I never really thought about it before but, you know, I guess that dreams do talk in your own language. Got me good." The two young fellows were at the clearing. Kim was half- sitting, half-lying, with her head propped against a fallen tree trunk. There was already a translucence to her form. "She looks like she's disappearing," Daffy exclaimed. There was a shimmering object on her left arm that neither of them had seen before. It winked in the pale sunlight, and stood out dramatically on her translucent skin. Daffy noticed it, displaying it for Leopold as he felt a strained pulse near her wrist. "What is that thing? A bracelet or an amulet?" The apprentice peered over Daffy's shoulder. "I'm not sure. It might be some kind of life-giving amulet. It sort of vibrates." He looked at the brown bloodstain beneath Kim's nose. "She's breathing. And I think the nosebleed's stopped too. That's probably a good thing." "You don't know for sure?" Daffy shrugged. "I'm not really a medicine man or a priest. I would've thought this was your bag." Kim inhaled deeply and awoke to see the two young men hunched over her. She saw them examining the object on her wrist. She wrenched her arm out of Daffy's slack grip. "Stealing my watch? I'll leave that job for you after I'm dead and not a moment sooner." "What is that thing?" asked Leopold. "It's a watch. Something to tell time with." The two men were unresponsive. "If you don't know what it is, it's pretty hard to explain," Kim added. "That's odd though. Why would everything come here all mixed up except my watch?" She tilted the dial to get a better look and held it up to her ear. "It's still running. That's a fucking miracle." "OK, your wench is healed," Daffy explained to Leopold. "I guess I am the number one healer of the era. My duty's done." Kim simmered at the suggestive name she'd been called. She felt like punching the little imp but it was hard to summon the energy. "Maybe it's kind of a seasonal thing," Leopold said. "I mean, I get that problem when I'm trying to fall asleep. This could be the same kind of thing." Kim raised herself by propping her elbows against the log. "I doubt it's exactly seasonal. Truthfully, it felt the same as being pulled out of my world. Only I tasted blood. That's not good." "If you're really all that much better, then," Daffy interrupted, "I might be off to find some food. Axmeer's crowns, a heretic, and a disappearing woman couldn't find supper in a tavern. If I start right now, I could have something to eat before twilight. Otherwise we might as well kidnap a child from the town and roast it up." Leopold frowned. "You just run along then. We won't be eating any children. I'd rather suffer, personally." He sat down next to Kim once the forest-dweller left. After a brief silence, she bolted upright. "Shit! You know what?" She rubbed a pudgy finger along her gums. "I feel it coming on again. Right around my teeth! Let's go get that little fucker. I think he's got something to do with it." The apprentice and the woman stood up almost at once. "If we hurry, we might catch him back at his cave," Leopold said. "I think it's this way." As the pair moved through the forest, Kim fought the urge to cough, although the dire illness grew with each step. She didn't want Leopold to see her as a liability, although she was scarcely comforted by his admonitions about Daffy's cannibalistic proposal. She dared to ask Leopold whether the strange little man was serious about kidnapping their meal. "I really don't know him that well. He's got an odd manner of expression and I wouldn't turn my back on him in a barroom." The trip to Daffy's cave took less time than Leopold anticipated. Familiarity with the forest helped him keep his sense of direction. His new acquaintance wasn't at the cave. "Your nose is bleeding again," he told Kim. "You better wait. I think I'll rummage around and find him. I can't yell, though, because it'll probably scare off anything he's hunting." The young woman sat down in the rough stone cave. She shook her head in silence. This was getting tedious. It was a stroke of fortune that Leopold found Daffy within minutes. Within a nest the woodland denizen had found six intact eggs, which would serve as food for the day. His resourcefulness rightly astonished the townsman, who had always relied on others to provide for his food and shelter. Upon their return to Daffy's crude home, the two fellows found Kim, seated, with the cursed weapon sitting across her lap. "Stars, woman!" Leopold shouted. "You shouldn't touch that thing!" "What's wrong?" she asked. "This is made for me. Look, it fits perfectly in my hand, and it even fits the scabbard. I tried it." The two young men looked at one another. "Oh yes," Daffy complained. "A heretic and a time- travelling ghost-bitch who's at home with cursed blades. I know what I've done. I've torqued off all the gods and now they're mocking me. Perfect!" Kim touched her hand to her nose, then to her teeth and gums. "Leopold, he's the key. That sarcastic shit is the key. I don't know how." She stooped to play with the sword, then sheathed it and stood up. It was uncomfortable to remain sitting with the weapon safely put away. "That feeling in your gums?" asked Leopold. "It's better now? All of a sudden?" "Yeah," Kim stated. "For some reason, if he gets too far away, I get sick. Now I feel just better. I haven't a fucking clue why." "Maybe it's both of us," said the apprentice. "I've never summoned anything before. It could be some kind of spell that works with two. Maybe his race. Something like that." "So, if I leave in a hurry, I'll kill you?" Daffy winked. "Kind of leaves me in command. Yes, I like the sound of that. Admiral Daffy. Proctor Daffy. The Great Necromancer Of All Eternity Daffy." Leopold and Kim entertained thoughts of a skewered Daffy roasting slowly on a spit. "OK, OK, I'll quit it. I'm sorry, OK?" The imp set down the nest and poked a hole into one of the eggs with a hollowed reed. "Dig in." Kim lifted an egg with one hand and took one of the hollowed reeds next to Daffy with the other. The forest- dweller immediately noticed a black object fall out of the loose folds in her fur clothing. "What's that?" he asked, scooping it off the ground before Kim could react. Leopold, too, wondered about the black object. There was the silvery thing she called a watch, and now this thing that appeared to be a smooth rectangular rock. "That's my cell phone," Kim said. "In this fur thing? Strange." "What's a cell phone?" asked her two companions. "It's a communication device. But I don't know if it would work here." She looked upward at the sky, tinged in an unfamiliar hue, almost purple. "Maybe it does work." She flipped open the phone and held it to her ear. Dead. Not even a tone. It winked insolently at her with its bright green face and backlit buttons. It didn't work in this place. "Damn," she thought, "even if it worked right, I don't think anyone would recognise me." Daffy could hardly take his eyes off the thing. This apparition possessed arcane knowledge more frightening than necromancy because he could understand what necromancers did. This woman wore strange clothing, used unearthly devices, and spoke using curses he didn't comprehend. "Have you ever heard of anyone called 'Bolger'?" Kim asked, changing the subject. "Leopold said you might have." She stuffed the phone back into the deep folds in the side of the fur. The smaller humanoid squinted at Kim and Leopold. "Bolger? Yeah, as in a property somewhere past the Franklin Mountains. Franklin Peaks. Whatever you call it." "Do you know how to get there?" "I haven't even decided if I can take you for real," Daffy retorted. "Why would I want to show you where Bolger's property is?" Kim took the watch off her arm. "You want this? You can have it if you stick around. You're so concerned about magic and other bullshit that I don't think you'd show me unless you got something out of it." Leopold watched Kim give the timepiece to Daffy. "Why don't you just tell her the place is called Bolger's Vale? Why do you tiptoe around it by calling it Bolger's property?" "When you get down there," Daffy mumbled, slurping the contents out of the eggshell, "everything is owned by someone. It's not like up here. You're always running into someone, and they're a lot more civilised than your village and this forest. So you can call it Bolger's Vale, but it isn't like a place where you can just run around doing whatever you like." Leopold felt Daffy was leaving something out. "You mean our religion. The way I write or dream and so on." "Yeah. And travelling around with a girl in fur isn't going to be exactly an easy thing. And my own race, too." "That can be fixed," Leopold said. "If we can get back to Culleybrook soon, we can get something for your feet. Hey, even better, there's still a couple of boats back there. We can probably just take the river." "River travel would be the way to go," Daffy agreed. "There's a large town way downstream, and it's where two rivers meet. Getting up the other river is the tough part, of course." "You mentioned boots for Daffy," Kim interrupted. "Do you think you could get me something better to wear off in town?" "The weavers are all gone," Leopold replied, "but there ought to be something." "There really better be. This costume is fucking rough on the skin." The three travellers picked up what they could from Daffy's cave and Leopold's hollow before trudging on to Culleybrook. Leopold's disappointment was visible as they found the boats were gone, along with everyone who had survived the debacles of the last several months. "You can't even get where we're going from this side of the river," Daffy pointed out. "And if we cross right at the ford we're sort of stuck on that side." "Let's worry about it tomorrow," Kim suggested, "and we'll see what we can scrounge from the empty houses." Leopold headed to the tavern and shortly alerted the others that he'd found a cask of cheap wine. They stopped their search of the houses to eat some salted meat garnished with cloves and drank steeply from the wine as the sky deepened into its customary purple glow. All the problems they felt vanished: the summoning into the body of a woman; the necromancy; the loss of friends and neighbours. The wine and the darkness were compelling. The residents of Culleybrook had left in a hurry. There was plenty of clothing, including women's robes for Kim and boots for Daffy. As they scavenged for their supplies, Leopold remained in the tavern, trying to decipher the symbols on his parchments, arranging them in various ways to see whether the result made any sense. Kim discovered a house near the central village square that might have been inhabited by a simple, sturdy woman. The clothing she found was somewhere between coarse and elegant. There was even a satchel that might serve as a travelling bag. As she took out the cell phone and dropped the fur onto the floor, she heard a click, as though something had else had been hidden in the folds of the bulky garment. "Shit! It's my contact lens case." She retrieved the case and put it into the satchel along with her cell phone. It was comforting to possess something to remind her of her purpose, her former life. As she picked up the sash and scabbard, tying the weapon to her side, her desperation grew to get back through whatever means possible. It didn't seem right that she'd have to do so on the terms of such unreliable and ineffectual allies. At least they seemed to understand her problem. Chapter II - Nettles Culleybrook ceased to be once the three acquaintances departed. Daffy established a rigorous pace for their trek towards the promised of Bolger's Vale. Without large packs, the journey could be made more quickly, and the humanoid scout assured Leopold and Kim that his knowledge of plants and animals would serve them well when foraging. Even so, Kim found the pace to be exhausting. "At least I might lose a bit of weight. I just feel heavy and it sure ain't the sword." Leopold assured her that her size was provocatively feminine, a compliment she answered with measured antipathy. While not a lard bucket, she knew her breasts were larger than she wanted, and her belly, buttocks and legs were frankly zaftig. She certainly was not built like a heroic goddess, nor like a fashion model, nor a debutante. And reminding Leopold of a lost love was a petty consolation. As they made their way across the first stream, Daffy stooped to pick up a pair of turtles too slow to evade him in the shallow water. "These things are good eating," he smiled, stuffing them into his pack. Kim was fairly pleased that the halfling appeared in such good spirits. "Once we're across here, we've got to move into the trees and look for the next river. The one that joins this one at the town. Franklin's Peak is on the other side. So it's not going to be a quick time at all. I don't guess you ever did any hunting." Kim knew he was talking to her. "I've been on team-building exercises. Corporate stuff." "With your townsfolk?" Daffy asked. Kim tried to figure out how to explain that she used to be a successful account manager at a corporation. That the department used to go out on retreats and help one another through difficult obstacles. The whole idea seemed a little absurd in the context. "Yes, Daffy, you could say we did this, the whole damned town of us. My skin was a little less blue, though." The underbrush became dense as they left the creek banks and headed inland. As each hour passed, the excitement of approaching a nebulous goal succumbed to simple weariness. "This is a pretty easy temperature and everything," Kim noted. "Is this like your summer?" "It's the time of the Four True Recorders," Daffy answered. "What in the name of truth is that?" Leopold interjected. "I think you're making that up." "Master Gasping Man," sniffed the imp, "your heavier and heavier footprints could tell anyone that you've never travelled much. You're in no shape to be telling me about gods and seasons." Leopold fell silent. If only to conserve energy, it was better to shut his mouth and allow Daffy his follies. "I only meant that the sun's pretty warm but not unreasonable," Kim said. "He's the most reasonable one there is," Daffy explained. Kim shrugged at the anthropomorphic nature of the creature's world. That kind of thing would never wash back where she lived. Having a single god to blame was convenient, although the need for monotheism was utterly negated by the rise of progress and industrialisation. "You're both magical," said Daffy. "It shows, too. Summoning and necromancy and all that stuff is the call of doom." "Well, we're following you around," Leopold grumbled, "so I hope you're not about to turn into a raving throat-slitting madman." "Heretics," Daffy shrugged. "You're all alike, really." The day wore on until the group felt tired enough to stop for the night. Leopold's old dread returned. He volunteered to remain awake in case nocturnal creatures roused their makeshift camp. Daffy had told them that there were plenty. "Look at these trees," said the halfling. "This kind." The others looked at the conifer whose yellow-green needles glinted in the twilight. "These are rattlecone pines. The good thing about them is that they're really sensitive to warmth. Not movement like most folks think. I always pick a spot near them if I have to stay out away from a cave. A cave's perfect as long as it's empty, but a clearing in the rattlecones is good enough." Daffy explained that fabulous creatures, foreign to both Kim and Leopold, inhabited the forest. "They attack people?" Kim asked incredulously. "Animals don't really attack humans. If it wasn't for us, a lot of them wouldn't even be alive still." Daffy stood still, staring until both Kim and Leopold felt uncomfortable. The imp, their guide, drew deep breaths before speaking. "You are talking as if we're all humans. We aren't. I am not a human. Leopold could be human. You aren't human, unless there's something about blue skin you'd find natural wherever you came from." Kim shook her head slowly. "Right," Daffy continued, wagging a single finger at both of the others, "so you think that humans wouldn't be attacked by animals. It isn't animals I'm worried about. But it's worse than that for any of us, because I would call myself a human even if I don't look completely human. And both of you would probably say you're human." Kim showed her confusion outwardly. "What makes someone human?" Daffy asked her. She didn't answer. The day's trek had taken its toll. "If I point at that rattlecone," Daffy asked, "can you see it?" Kim looked over towards the trees nearby. "Yeah." "Why'd you look? I mean, you're right about it, but why'd you look?" "Because I could fucking see it," Kim growled. "But you could see it without me pointing at it," Daffy replied, adding, "flurking see it. But why would you look only just then? Frudging then?" "You asked me to." "OK. Now an animal can't do that. Right?" The cloven-hoofed boy had her. If being a human meant you could communicate and share an experience without actually being there, then humanity had such a broad definition that it would virtually include all of them. "You ain't answering, which means I think you're completely agreeing with me. So here, you see, you fucking see, you don't just have things close to humans, like us, able to do that. Animals, some animals, can do that too." Kim hadn't read too much about evolution, but she knew that only humans were able to share experiences and communicate like they did. Anything that could do that would be close to being human. If a cow were able to understand a buffalo's perspective, then it wouldn't be much of a cow any longer. And if a herd of cattle could share one another's dreams and ambitions, they wouldn't be cattle either. Daffy let the girl dream. It wouldn't hurt to let the subject go. After all, the whole health of this apparition depended completely on his participation in the adventure, so he figured that her silence was appreciation instead. "I noticed we ain't following the river. Why the hell not?" Daffy explained that there were wealthy landowners all along its route; Leopold confirmed this with a lazy shrug. Regardless of what Leopold might know about magic, there remained little doubt who knew more about the wilderness. After several hours of walking, with the sun waning somewhat in its brilliance, she turned to Daffy and Leopold, grabbing the arm of the latter. She heard some noise through the brush, more or less in the direction they were going. It sounded like loud shouting only far away. "Did you guys hear that?" "Sure did," nodded Leopold. Daffy agreed. "It sounds like people, people shouting," said Kim. She started off at a brisk pace before Daffy ran up to grab her. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "It sounds like someone in trouble," she guessed. "We're not about to go trundling off in all directions," Daffy grumbled. "We have to keep clear of things like this. It might be some kind of creature who can mimic human screams. Anything, really." "This isn't all directions," Kim objected. "We're going this way right now anyhow. How far away from civilisation have you taken us? It can't be that far. We're hardly a day away from the brook." Daffy shrugged. He knew she was right. His plan was to skirt inhabited areas, close enough to avoid things he'd rather not encounter, but sufficiently distant to avoid people. This was just a mistake in the making. Kim stared directly at Leopold. If he was going to be anything but a millstone around their neck, she believed he had to begin backing her up when she thought Daffy was wrong. The apprentice felt her cold stare. "Daffy. It won't hurt us to find out if anything's wrong. If we're on our guard, I mean, nothing can really happen." The half-human creature shrugged again and spat out some random expletives, the kind he thought Kim might use in the same situation. Forward, quietly, the trio crept through the brush until they saw a cleared pasture in the near distance. The shouts were louder there, and convincingly human. Daffy grabbed Kim's arm again. "Listen. You two just keep behind me. I got my blowgun. If there's something dangerous up there I'm your best bet to keep it away from us anyhow." Kim gave her patience a test. "We're following though." As the three came to the last few trees within the woods, there was a plain view of what was happening in the meadow, and where the screams and shouts originated. Three dog- sized animals, reptilian, with thorny spines on their backs, were in a desperate battle with eight peasants armed with sticks and crude agricultural tools. One of the farmers lay face down on the grass, with one of the creatures tugging at his leg, trying to pull his unconscious body back into the woods. Daffy turned and whispered. "Nettle dragons." Kim couldn't know what they were, or why or how they came to attack people. Animals where she came from generally avoided humans. From what Daffy had explained, that was not so in this place. Kim and Leopold crouched behind Daffy, who assembled his blowgun and prepared to fire at the creatures from the prone position. The first dart missed entirely. Neither the tentative peasants nor the aggressive nettle dragons detected the three adventurers. The second dart hit one of the farmers. "What the fuck are you doing?" Kim cried thoughtlessly. The peasant staggered sideways as the dart's venom worked into his system. He didn't know what hit him. Two of the people fighting the nettle dragons peered into the woods, however, having heard Kim's outburst. Daffy's third dart missed entirely. "Stop it before you kill someone," Kim demanded. She looked down at the humanoid with the blowgun. He was chuckling, no doubt ruining his aim. The girl was enraged at his demeanour. She turned quickly towards Leopold, who merely rubbed his chin and shook his head slowly. These people were going to be no help. Without warning, she stalked forward, out of the cover of the trees, drawing the blade found at Daffy's cave. If her comrades weren't going to do anything productive, it fell to her to do the right thing. Halfway to the scene of carnage, her mind began to swirl doubts into the genuine anger she felt. It was too late to turn around. The remaining farmers held their makeshift weapons in a defensive stance, aware that a sword-wielding woman had entered the meadow, advancing quickly upon the three monsters. The nettle dragons saw her too. As she closed on them, the one that had been chewing on the fallen peasant's leg swivelled, growling, slobbering at the intruder. It leapt at her, ungainly, almost hopping like a giant frog. With a second bound, it was meant to land on Kim with its small, effective claws out to punch through her skin. She swung the blade and caught the beast straight in the thorax. The tip of the weapon scarcely slowed as it cracked the creature's tough hide and wounded it mortally. Kim didn't stop. She advanced as suddenly upon the other two creatures and hit one of them in the head, stunning it and sending a jet of blood out of its ears and mouth. The last monster hissed and bounded, too quickly for her to catch it, away from the pasture and into the woods. She turned to the two nettle dragons lying on the ground. The first one that she had hit was already dead. The other one breathed (or rather gurgled) with increasing difficulty. The battle was done. She cleaned the blade on the grass and looked up at the group of farmers. They wore such astonishment on their faces that she immediately understood they had never seen anything like that before. "What did I just do?" she asked herself. This question of her was reflected in the eyes of the peasants. Two of them crouched over their fallen and bleeding relative; the rest of them chattered and stared at the woman who had saved them. One of them had dropped the rake he had been carrying, and seemed to be apologising to her. Kim turned and sternly beckoned Leopold and Daffy. They did as much good hiding in the woods now as they had during the battle. She shook her head to see that Daffy still had an annoying smirk on his face. She looked back at the group of peasants, seeing that the one he'd hit still staggered from the dart strike. The one who had been mauled by the nettle dragon was, miraculously, still alive. He was being helped to his feet as Kim's two travelling companions approached. "We're sorry, lady, for using the tools as weapons. But we had to defend ourselves. Those things would have eaten Krick if we didn't." "Why are you apologising?" Then, to Daffy: "Why is he apologising?" The halfling managed to wipe the smile off his face. "You've got a ficking sword, Kimberley. He thinks you're a noble." "So why does that make a difference?" "They can't carry weapons, I guess," Leopold interjected. "That's my guess." Kim turned to the group of peasants. The injured one was being helped back towards a small hut that nearly blended in with the landscape. There were four of them in all, arranged randomly down a slight slope on the other edge of the meadow. "This place is going to drive me crazy," said Kim. "Maybe we can find out if these guys have anything to eat. It would beat having roasted turtle legs for supper, anyhow." After some brief introductions, the whole group moved slowly towards the hamlet. The adrenaline had seeped out of Kim's bloodstream and she felt exhausted. "This is a pretty vacant part of the land," Leopold said to one of the men. "Who are you guys, and why would you live way out here?" "We're Ordonite hermits. We thought, seeing the lady with the sword, that you were from the estates." The peasant introduced himself as Vireo Samuel. "Ordonites?" Leopold asked. "Have you any knowledge of things like runes or shadow writing? Interpretation?" "We built a totem, and on our festival days, we can make sure which days are the best for planting, harvesting or hunting." "Very practical," agreed the apprentice. "What's with the lady? Is she from the patrician's lands?" Leopold was unsure what patrician he referred to. He assumed that most of the countryside would have to be owned by somebody. "She's from a long way off. Not from around here." "Why does she wear a gown with her sword?" "She was wearing fur before we got her that thing." The group came into the centre of the quartet of huts, where a bare tree trunk rose from the ground. It was the height of three men, and bore carvings that Leopold believed to religious. Followers of Ordon were rumoured to be literate. "You are fortunate that you came across our hamlet," Vireo Samuel said to the travellers as they sat down to supper. "If the lady is not a noble, then it is dangerous for her to be found with a sword. We are not more than a day's hike from one of the largest of Drew Falanga's estates." Kim shrugged, accepting a bowl of greenish soup from a young girl. "Is it because I'm a woman?" "Not at all. The fact is, you're not a noble. That's why we were concerned when you came out of the woods. Falanga's troops have been known to cut people down for holding a butter knife or a barbecuing skewer." "This place is fucked," Kim sighed under her breath. "Your assistance, however, and the hue of your skin, tells us you are worthy as a friend, if you'll accept that honour." Kim nodded. "In the light of the totem," Vireo Samuel grinned, "I can also tell that your companions are not quite what they seem either. That one is a halfling, and Leopold, the apprentice, is some kind of magician. Not a conjurer, though. Hard to tell what." Kim noticed that the red-haired denizen of this remote pasture had one hand stretched out, touching the base of the totem, as he spoke. She looked at Daffy and Leopold to see whether they noticed it too. "You probably saved at least one life today. I think Krick will survive. And if you will accept a gift as a reward, we would be pleased if you'd accept it." "What do you have in mind?" Kim asked. "The beasts' hides can be prepared into armour." Daffy interrupted. "You don't have a forge here. This place is dunked primitive." "We won't need a forge," Vireo Samuel replied. "Our faith can provide the gift." Kim wasn't sure what he meant by that. Leopold leaned over and explained, quietly, that he believed the peasants' totem could be used to magically create the armour out of the hide of the nettle dragons. "All we ask is that you remain with us tonight and tomorrow night. The next morning we can have it ready." The apparent leader of the hamlet explained his point with his hands outstretched, palms facing up, in a demonstration of sincerity. The trio agreed. That evening, Leopold's slumber arrived more quickly than ever before. As he slid out of the conscious, the cracking shapes that came with sleep formed a symbol, etching itself into his memory. Interspersing the black and grey was a vivid recollection of the battle he'd witnessed earlier in the day. At times the view came from his concealed place in the woods; at times as though the perspective was that of the strange sword that Kim wielded. Yet in black and grey, spatters of bright red punctuated the vision whenever the weapon hit the beasts as they attacked and died. His sleep was deep and satisfying in spite of the carnage it revealed. It was Leopold's first good sleep in ten years. He woke up in time to see several of the hamlet's women and girls setting out a series of delicate nets. They had been up for a while. The nettle dragons had already been retrieved and skinned, their hides draped over a log near the totem. The innards were nowhere to be found; he figured they were inedible and had been disposed of. "What are the nets for? There's no river near here," Leopold said to one of the women. "Birds. These nets wouldn't work on fish anyhow." Leopold let them carry on with their work. He pulled out several of his parchments and began to arrange the shapes on the pages, using a stick of charcoal on one of the blank pages. When he concentrated, he was able to create a phrase that tugged at something inside him. It wasn't an intellectual meaning, nor a linguistic phrase, but a dark and magical interpretation. His dreams had come to reality. The arrangement could be used. For what? He began to utter the sentence. Although the words were incomprehensible in Arduroyan, the meaning was clear to Leopold. It told the story of a half- elf named Cauvan, who lived near a river. Cauvan's village was situated in a valley between two mountain ranges. At the downstream edge of the valley, a giant came one day and built a fortress home out of ice boulders. He sent an emissary, a golem carved straight out of the mountain, to demand a tribute for free passage to the towns that lay past the mouth of the valley. It was not long before the entire profit of their commerce was paid to the giant, and Cauvan's people became poorer and more desperate as time went by. Only when the summer was at its height were the villagers able to defy the ice- bound monster living at the edge of their valley. After the third winter of virtual slavery, the local warden offered to abdicate in favour of anyone who could rid the people of the giant. His own cowardice was not brought into question because he was an old man. His popularity rode on his goodwill and humility. Cauvan boasted that he could defeat the giant; if only the old warden would accompany him to carry the foodstuffs he would need for such a task. The warden agreed. Together, the two villagers set off towards the icy fortress in the mountains. The half-elf had a plan, but he did not share it with the warden, or with anyone from the village. When he was within earshot of the giant's abode, he called out in a loud voice that he was ready to do battle for the freedom of his village. He went over a ridge so that the warden could no longer see him. The giant came out of his castle and immediately saw the warden, borne down with a backpack and without any weapon in his hand. This provoked a stream of hideous laughter from the giant. He beckoned his golem, who stood not far from the entrance to the chamber of ice, to join him in a feast of human flesh. Both of them advanced quickly on the warden, who naturally tried to run for his life. He tried to wrestle out of the ungainly backpack, which Cauvan had tied a little too securely for such a manoeuvre. The giant caught the aged warden, lifted him up towards his mouth, and with a violent breath froze his skin nearly solid. He bit down and cracked the frozen skin shell, sucking it into his mouth with one mighty inhalation. At that, the golem at his side lifted a mace and crashed its metal head straight down on his master's neck. The giant fell down the scree pouring from the foundations of his castle and breathed his last as the golem laughed. "With the skin of a living victim I have slain you!" cried the golem. At once, his stony exoskeleton melted like the snow in summer, only to reveal Cauvan, the new warden of his village. "The skin of a living victim," Leopold repeated. "With this inscription, and some skin from a living person, I will weaken the strong. This is spectacular!" He paused for a moment. Was Daffy right? Was he a necromancer and not a diviner? The story held a peculiar moral after all. Kim laughed, at mid-morning, hearing the strange tale Leopold wove. Daffy blinked sceptically. "Prove it". "I have an idea," Leopold began. "Get me a strip of skin from that fellow named Krick. He's still out of it, right?" "Right away," Daffy agreed, leaping to his feet. "Kim, you show the good folks your sword or something. You'll get their attention. One way or another." Kim sniffed at Daffy's innuendo. Yet, like the halfling, she was equally curious to verify Leopold's claim. If it cost an injured man a strip of his healing skin, that wouldn't be so bad. Daffy did the deed. The woman attending the fallen Krick was easily convinced to enjoy Kim's impromptu demonstration of sword skill. Drawing the sword for the second time since she'd found it, this time, without the adrenaline rush, the young woman felt a surge of power slither up her arm as she wielded it. The weapon was lighter than she imagined. To keep the peasants' attention, she used Leopold's own story as her own. She changed the words enough to blur the meaning. She played Cauvan herself. She turned the warden into a double-crossing villain, and the giant into a hideous half-man half-serpent creature she'd heard about before. The audience was rapt. After the story was told, the congregated handful dispersed to take up their chores where they were left. Leopold confronted the imp once the latter emerged from the hut. "Did you get it?" Daffy opened his small belt purse to prove he did. "Let's try this, then," Leopold urged. "Let's go out into the meadow where we can't be seen." Kim walked over to Vireo Samuel and asked the way to the nearest stream. They wanted to wash themselves. The hermits' lieutenant pointed in the direction the stream ran. "There won't be any unwelcome visitors down there?" "Unless the patricians know you're here I wouldn't count on it," answered Vireo Samuel. There were several paths to the stream running adjacent to the hamlet. The trio took one of them and shortly arrived at a safe clearing away from prying eyes. "What did you have in mind?" Kim asked Leopold. "Well, I wouldn't think that Daffy is stronger than you are, would you?" The halfling cringed at the remark but nodded in agreement. "I will try this," Leopold continued, "on you, Kim. If it works, you should become as weak as a tadpole. Daffy should be able to master you in no time." "I don't know if I like how that sounds," Kim said. "How long does it last?" "Actually, I don't know," Leopold confessed. "There's no way to tell, really, without trying." "I say fecking try it," Daffy cried. "Not trying means it's useless anyways." Kim was not sure about this, since magic was something for books, movies, or television. And the thought of becoming weakened in front of these two was not a happy one. It took them some time to convince her that the experiment was worthwhile. "Where do we stand?" "Well, just a few paces apart. I will cast it and then you wrestle and see how quickly you feel weakened." "Why not start wrestling first?" asked Daffy. "OK. That makes sense. You should both be able to tell how it works, then," agreed the apprentice. "Nice one, shorty," Kim sneered. "OK. Come and get it." Daffy and Kim began to wrestle, arms to shoulders, without getting into it too seriously. Kim felt far more vulnerable when the sword was sheat