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THE SANGUINE HEART By Ingrid Halb Once upon a time, there was a magical kingdom. Well, several kingdoms, really. And a couple of principalities, with one or two duchies in the mix. Also, there was this one place that claimed to be a republic, but the same small group of people kept getting reelected. But I digress, the point is that there was this generally magical land, with no one really in charge of the whole thing. "Well, this is just freaking great," Barry said, his eyes darting angrily around the empty foyer of the royal house. He was an angry looking man of medium build and dark hair, with a lank boniness about him that suggested a childhood nutritional deficiency. A dustpan in one hand, a whisk in the other somewhat belied the angry look, but did not deter him from gesturing the breadth of the great hall around him. His compatriot, Sean, a man of average height with a more well fed look about him, just shrugged stiffly in a non-committal manner, as he continued moving a line of dirt across the floor with a worn push broom. "I don't know, things could be worse," he said, trying to loosen his high collar with a tug. Both men were dressed in the formal livery of Castle Sanguine. Their burgundy and blue waistcoats and bright red pants identified them as simple domestic servants with no magical enhancements. An identity that irked Barry considerably more than it did Sean. "Things could be worse? I'd like to see how!" Barry said, snapping his answer back with a mixture of sarcasm and outrage, as he shook the whisk in Sean's general direction. "The whole castle's gearing up for the party of the century, and we get stuck on cleanup duty." "At least it's a job," Sean said. "A job," Barry said, his face giving a very good impression of someone with a foul taste in his mouth. At twenty-three years of age, he had envisioned greater things in his life by now. "What we need is just one opportunity," he said, angrily but ineffectually whisking a bowl of mixed fruit and nuts. "This place is filling up with rich and powerful mages just begging to show off their skills. Magic will be flowing like water! I tell you, we get our asses into that party, we'll be set for life." "Barry! Sean! You two dip wads still not finished?" The booming voice that interrupted Barry's rant had a hint of derision to it, and accompanied by sycophantic chuckles indicated the approach of a trio of men. "Mordecai..." Barry said, his fists tightening involuntarily, his shoulders cringing slightly. "And of course, he's with Gary and Mike." The clump of heavy boots drew closer, as the three men dressed in leather armor strode in with blithe indifference to the tracks they were leaving behind. Their leader, a broad-shouldered swarthy man with longish slightly unwashed hair, swaggered in and kicked through the pile of dirt that Sean had been carefully shepherding. "Hey, we just cleaned that!" Sean said. "And you'll clean it again! Until you get it right," Mordecai said. "Do a good enough job, and I'll see if we can't get you promoted to full-time maids." Mordecai laughed at his own joke and looked expectantly at his fellow guards. They obliged him with enthusiastic laughs. "Hello Mordecai," Barry said through clenched teeth. "I see you brought your two girlfriends with you." This brought the laughter to a halt as Gary and Mike muttered angrily, grabbing for their short swords without actually drawing them out. "Listen you little weasel!" Mordecai said, grabbing Barry by his uniform and shaking him enough to pop a few buttons. "We got one chance to pull this ceremony off, and if you two idiots screw this up, I'll have your balls cut off! Do you hear me?" "I hear you," Barry muttered. "The whole castle can hear you." "Then get back to work! I want this place to shine!" Mordecai released Barry with a push, causing him to stumble into a pedestal, knocking over the bowl of mixed nuts that Barry had been whisking moments earlier. "Come on, guys," Mordecai said, gesturing to his friends. "Let's leave these two ladies to their housework." With a laugh, Mordecai walked off, making particular effort to grind as many spilled nuts under his foot as he could. Gary and Mike chuckled as they followed suit, leaving Sean and Barry to clean up the mess. "I hate that guy!" Barry said. Sean just shrugged and started up sweeping again. *** Mordecai sniffed the air warily. He did not like being in Gamfel's workshop. The wizard scared him. Still, Gamfel was Steward of Sanguine, so if Mordecai had any hope of career advancement, he had better jump whenever Gamfel called. Curiously the wizard did not seem to be in. Mordecai stepped cautiously between the paper-strewn desk and tables covered with vials, jars, and crystals. His eye was drawn to a pedestal on a small dais in the middle of the room. The room seemed focused on this spot. Mordecai stepped closer. A blood-red crystal sat on display. Square cut, and secured to a silken ribbon, it caught the light with preternatural fire. It was clearly magical and Mordecai reached for it without thinking why. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Gamfel said, appearing immediately over Mordecai's shoulder. "Gaah!" Mordecai yelled, jumping back reflexively at the sudden appearance of the wizard's grey bearded face. "Not thinking of stealing it, are you?" Gamfel said, a malicious gleam in his eye. "I was just... I mean I wasn't... Is that... is that what I think it is?" Mordecai said. "The Sanguine Heart," Gamfel said with a nod, "the most powerful magical lens within five kingdoms." Mordecai stared in awe and greed, wondering how he could work this to his advantage. The Sanguine Heart! It held the power of kings and mages rolled into one. With this he could rule the kingdom and none would dare question him. And here it lay, all he need do was stretch out his hand and snatch it. "Be thankful you did not take it," Gamfel said, "if it would even let you. Few can touch it. I myself can only hold it for the briefest of moments. And those that try are often cursed. This gem has a curious history of having its way with people." Mordecai's hand drew back. "Yet, for those who can hold it and yield that power..." Gamfel said, disregarding Mordecai for the moment. "Ah, but few are given that right." "Like the new Lady Sanguine?" Mordecai said in a faux cheerful attempt to contribute to the conversation. "The new Lady Sanguine!" Gamfel spat the words out with venom. "A gem of destiny and those fools would bind it to that slattern from Castle Languor. That cannot be allowed!" Mordecai thought carefully before answering. "But the treaty," he said. "If the Princess of Languor is not installed as the next Lady Sanguine, it would mean war." "A war we need," Gamfel said with grim determination. "A war we can't win!" Mordecai was too appalled to be cautious. "Languor will have the support of five kingdoms aligned against us!" Gamfel's face broke into a malicious looking smile, revealing yellowing teeth. "Ah! But what if Languor were our ally in such a war?" he asked. "But... but that's... what?" Mordecai said scratching his chin. "Imagine if you will, my dear Mordecai," Gamfel said, grinning now broadly. "What do you think would happen if a little known but much feared enemy were to attack this peace-loving land of ours? Now, if something terrible were to befall the newly appointed Lady Sanguine immediately thereafter, would not most people place the blame on this invading enemy?" "That could work," Mordecai said thoughtfully. "I would 'reluctantly' have to agree to continue in my role as Steward. Purely for the benefit of the nation, of course." "Of course." "And as Steward during such a troubling time, I would need someone to command the armies of this land. Someone who would be well compensated for his service. Very well compensated indeed. Do you understand me?" Mordecai smiled broadly. "I think we have a perfect understanding," he said. "But where are you going to find an enemy like that?" "I believe they can be found beyond the Urgent Forest," Gamfel said, a smug look on his face. "You mean the Witches of Rage? That's brilliant! But how will you get them to attack?" "By invitation. A cursed invitation, that is." Gamfel gestured to a small rectangular card with gold script. It looked like an ordinary official invitation to the upcoming ceremony for the Assumption of the next Lady Sanguine. "What does it do?" "That depends on who receives it," Gamfel said. "It's a spell of personal humiliation, and must be delivered directly to the coven leader." "So let me get this straight," Mordecai said. "You want someone to travel through dangerous terrain, and hand-deliver a cursed invitation of personal humiliation, to the leader of a mysterious and powerful cult of magic users known to be unfriendly to strangers?" "Essentially," Gamfel said. "I know just the idiots for the job," Mordecai said. *** "Finally!" Barry said. "A real opportunity! I tell you Sean, this delivery is just the start. We pull this off and Gamfel's bound to notice our potential." The two men were resting by a woodland stream, about a day's journey from Castel Sanguine. The day was hot and the shade of a large willow tree offered welcome relief. Both were still wearing their Sanguine livery, with the addition of travelling cloaks and packs, which they had doffed and laid in a neat pile on the streamside path. "I don't know," Sean said. "Still seems kind of dangerous. I mean, why didn't Mordecai go himself?" "Isn't it obvious? He was afraid," Barry said. "I hate that guy! It's always the biggest bullies that turn tail and run like little girls when things get scary. No, only real men show their true colors when on an adventure like this." "Out of my way, coming through, got to go, excuse me." This statement came at medium high volume and in staccato fashion from a blur of a human form that danced rapidly between the two men. "What the? Who was that?" Both Sean and Barry spoke mutual phrases of surprise as they turned to watch the retreating figure of the man who had just run through their camp. As such, their attention was not on the group of four soldiers that came barreling around the corner, tripping over the packs and generally winding up in a tumble. "Oof, son of a..." Barry said. "Hey! Watch where you're going!" Sean added. The soldiers huffed and puffed as they disentangled themselves from Sean and Barry. They were obviously exhausted and more than slightly sweaty, all were breathing heavy with one or two of them gasping for breath. The leader of the pack, a grizzled looking sergeant, drew his short sword and waved it menacingly at Barry's direction. "Out of the way you idiots!" he said. "We're on official business for Castle Languor." "Whoa, hey!" Barry said stepping back nervously. The soldiers were dressed in the yellow and green of Castle Languor, and definitely looked legitimate. The sword looked particularly legitimate. "Well, we're on official business too," Sean said warily, trying to avoid direct contact with the sword tip. "We're on a special assignment direct from Gamfel, Steward of Castle Sanguine." This brought the Languorites up quick and they started to look questioningly at each other. "They're from Sanguine," one of the soldiers whispered loudly to the sergeant. "What do we do?" "Shut up!" the sergeant whispered back. "Well, we certainly don't want any trouble with Castle Sanguine," the sergeant said, sheathing his sword and trying to smile broadly. "After all, we're practically allies." "I should say so," Sean said, straightening his waistcoat. "What with the upcoming Assumption and all." "He knows!" whispered one of the soldiers. "Shut up!" the sergeant whispered back, before turning his smiling attention once again to Sean and Barry. "Well, I'm sure there's no need for anything official here," the sergeant said. "Just a simple accident. Could have happened to anyone. Come along, men. If we hurry, we can still catch... I mean, we still need to bring back..." A slightly panicked look crossed the sergeant's face, while his men were doing their best to avoid eye contact by looking anywhere else and shuffling their feet. Two of them may have been tunelessly whistling. "We got to go," the sergeant said tersely, before rushing off in the direction they had initially been heading. His men scurrying after him. "Yeah, you better run!" Barry said, stepping boldly up once the soldiers were well out of sight. "Why'd you hold me back?" he said to Sean. "I could have taken them." "Did that strike you as odd?" Sean said. "Odd nothing!" Barry said. "They knew when they were outmatched. I tell you, Sean. A dominant male presence just makes himself known." "Are they gone?" said a head that popped up from behind a bush immediately beside Barry. "Don't hit me!" Barry yelled, flopping to the ground. "Hit you? Why would I hit you?" the stranger said, stepping out from behind the bush. He was a slender youth, wearing loose, ill-fitting clothes. He was otherwise clean and respectable looking. "Who are you?" Sean asked, more curious than alarmed. "Just a simple traveler from Languor," the stranger said, helping Barry up off the ground. "I was minding my own business when those four ruffians attacked me. Thanks for scaring them off, by the way." "You're welcome," Barry said, brushing dust off his clothes and keeping a wary eye on the newcomer. "We really didn't do anything," Sean said. "They seemed in a hurry to leave once they found out we were from Sanguine." "You're not going to Sanguine? Are you?" the stranger said, tilting his head warily and tensing slightly. "Oh, no," Sean said. "We're on a delivery mission to the North." "Top secret, very hush-hush," Barry said. "Personal favor for Gamfel, Steward of Languor, official gift direct to the Coven Leader of the Witches of Rage. Very important stuff. Not really at liberty to talk about it." "That's on the other side of the Urgent Forest, isn't it?" the stranger said. "Maybe," Barry replied. The stranger looked thoughtful for a moment. "Hey," he said, "would you guys mind if I travelled with you? It is a dangerous journey." "I believe we've demonstrated our ability to deal with the unexpected," Barry said with a slight harrumph. "Are you sure?" the stranger said. "A wizard can come in handy." "You're a wizard?" Sean said. "I know a spell or two," the stranger said. Barry and Sean looked thoughtfully at each other. "Can you cook?" Barry asked. "Yes, I can cook," the stranger said, obviously bristling at the suggestion. "Fine by me," Barry said. "I'm Sean and that's Barry." "Charmed," the stranger said. "I'm Shir... I mean Charles. My name is Charles. Charles of Languor. People call me Chuck." "Okay, Chuck," said Sean, extending his hand. "Welcome to the team." *** 'Soon I will have power over this place,' Mordecai mused. He was leaning on the second story railing that overlooked the throne room where the next Lady Sanguine would be crowned and possibly, where she would meet her demise. He was still working on the details of the 'something terrible' he was supposed to arrange. Timing was everything. The kingdom would actually have to be under attack for the Witches of Rage to be credible scapegoats. Wait too long and the Princess of Languor might actually learn to wield the power of the Sanguine Heart. Yes, it would be tricky. He would have to be on his toes and ready to react to the unexpected. "MORDECAI!" "Gaah!" he said, nearly falling forward over the railing. "What the... who said... Oh, Gamfel. You startled me." "A word with you, in my workshop." With that, the wizard spread his cloak up and over Mordecai in a grand sweeping gesture. Mordecai caught his balance under that dizzying darkness as he was swept in a sensation of motion. The motion stopped and Gamfel removed the cloak. Mordecai was extremely disorientated to find himself once again inside Gamfel's workshop. The wizard himself seemed only irritated. "Tell me, Mordecai," he said, his hands clasped in front of him with the tips of his fingers touching his chin in thought. "Those two messengers you sent, what were their names again?" "You mean Barry and Sean?' "Ah, yes. Barry and Sean. And when did they leave?" "A little over a day ago, why?" Gamfel ignored the question. "And what did you tell them they were to deliver?" Gamfel asked. "An official gift from Castle Sanguine to the Witches of Rage." Mordecai was starting to get an ill feeling about this. "How exactly did you describe this gift? What words did you use?" "Small, square, sitting on your desk," Mordecai said with a shrug. "I told them they couldn't miss it. Is there a problem?" "Is there a problem? Is there a problem. Let me think... is there a problem..." Gamfel looked thoughtfully around the room as he tried to find the right words to express. "YES, THERES A PROBLEM!!!" he shouted. "Your idiot friends took the Sanguine Heart! I consider that a problem!" "But that's... how's that... I mean, how is that even possible?" Mordecai said as he staggered back from Gamfel's outburst. "I thought you said no one could touch it." "I said almost no one. Apparently they can," Gamfel seemed calmer now, more calculating. "At least one of them can." "I'm sure it's okay," Mordecai said. "It's just a mistake. Those idiots probably don't even know what they have." "Or they might," Gamfel said, seemingly to himself. "Even if they don't, they may hand it over to the Witches. If Rage gets the Sanguine Heart, we cannot win." "Would there even be a war?" Mordecai asked. "After all, the Witches won't be insulted if they get the Heart." "And what of Languor?" Gamfel said, derision in his voice. "What happens when we tell Languor that their precious princess cannot be bound to Sanguine because the Heart lies in Rage?" "They would attack," Mordecai said, the color draining from his face, "with five kingdoms at their side." "They would defeat us," Gamfel said, "even without their allies. What chance would we have without our strongest magical weapons? Without the Sanguine Heart, we are defenseless." "We need to get that back!" Mordecai said. "You are a master of the obvious," Gamfel said, once again throwing his cloak over Mordecai. Gary and Mike were having a problem. Their benefactor, Mordecai, seemed lost in a trance. He sat there on the second story of the throne room, his back to the railing. "Is he alright?" Gary said. "I don't know," Mike said, poking Mordecai in the side of the head experimentally. "He doesn't look so good." Mike's assessment was an understatement. Mordecai sat there senseless, with a long string of drool running down his chin to his doublet. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he seemed to be making some sort of nonsensical moaning noise. "Should we get the wizard?" Gary asked. "Either that or the doctor," Mike said. "The Heart!" Mordecai shouted suddenly, his eyes snapping back down. He leapt to his feet and looked around frantically for a few moments before his gaze focused on Mike and Gary, who were huddled protectively from Mordecai's outburst. "Get the horses!" he ordered the two. "We ride at once." *** King Eric, Lord of Castle Languor, sat slumped on his throne. The yellow and green velvet cloak hung heavy around his shoulders and spilled out onto the dais in disarray. His head hung down, cradled on either side by both his hands, as he fought the urge to rip his own hair out. The thin gold crown threatened to fall, but kept its place on his still brown but heavily grey tinged hair. Yashual, his Chief Mage and Counselor, stood behind him. Yashual's demeanor was more difficult to read. His tall lean frame and bald head with dark black goatee leant an air of stoicism that contrasted with the king's despair, but those who knew him would have recognized the signs of worry in his eyes. "And then what happened?" Eric asked the grizzled looking sergeant, respectfully taking a knee before him. "Well, Sire. She sort of... got away," the sergeant said. "Got away?" "Yes, Sire." "You and three other big, strong soldiers couldn't secure one little woman? How did that happen?" "Magic?" the sergeant said, making it seem like a question. "Magic," Eric repeated tonelessly. "Yes, Sire," the sergeant said, nodding vigorously. "It had to be. I mean, one minute we had her, and the next she's like voom." "Voom." "Voom," the sergeant said, still nodding. "Running down the trail with inhuman speed she was. It had to be magic. Maybe she's a wizard." "My daughter is no wizard," Eric said, looking up with a glint of menace in his eyes. "Sire, she does know a spell or two," Yashual said. "Magic," the sergeant said, gulping nervously. "All right," Eric said, looking heavenward for patience. "So she gets away by 'magic' and you start chasing her." "We would have caught her, too," the sergeant said, "but she was helped by those spies." "Ah yes, the two spies from Sanguine," Eric said. "You mentioned those. Would you know them if you saw them again?" "Yes, Sire," the sergeant said. "Desperate looking men they were. I'll never forget the look in their eyes." Eric sat in quiet thought. "All right, sergeant," he said. "You may return to your post. Say nothing of this to anyone." "Yes, Sire," the sergeant said, rising and repeatedly bowing as he left the room. Eric stayed quiet until the sergeant was gone, leaving him alone with Yashual. Eric sighed deeply before turning to address his mage. "Don't ever have kids," he said. "Yes, Sire," Yashual said. "Princess Shirley does present us with a problem." "What are we going to do, Yashual?" Eric said. "What's going to happen when it comes time for a princess of Languor to take the Assumption of Castle Sanguine, and we can't find the princess?' "It would be a violation of the treaty and probably result in war," Yashual said. "A war we would lose," Eric said. "We can't stand up one on one against Sanguine. And if we violate the treaty it won't be just Sanguine, we would have to fight the five other kingdoms as well. Our armies would be annihilated." "So we must find the princess," Yashual said. "How? We can't just put up posters saying 'Lost- one princess, if found please return to Castle Languor'," Eric said. "Sanguine would love that. That alone might start the war." "I believe the answer may lie with the two Sanguine spies." "Eh?" "Think of it, Sire. If they aided in the escape of Princess Shirley, they must know who she is. And if they know who she is, rest assured that Castle Sanguine knows who she is, and yet they work to keep her from us." "My God!" Eric said, rising with fists clenched. "Castle Sanguine is trying to get us to break the treaty! That's diabolical!" "It would appear so," Yashual said, nodding slowly in agreement. "But if those spies helped her once, it is likely they are still helping her, still with her, probably by her side. And while we cannot put up wanted posters for the princess, we can put up wanted posters for two spies and enemies of the state." "Get that sergeant to the court artist!" Eric said with grim determination. "I want posters up in every kingdom in the League. Put a bounty of 5,000 gold pieces on their heads. We cannot afford to let those spies spirit my daughter away!" "Yes, Sire," Yashual said, bowing respectfully. *** The Renard River valley was renowned for its pastoral beauty. Low rolling hills covered in thick, healthy vineyards was the norm, while the valleys held fat cows lolling peacefully in rich meadows. The Renard River itself wound peacefully, wide and slow. Watercraft dotted its surface, whether for commerce or recreation mattered not, for there was plenty of room for all. Of all the spots along this river, it was generally agreed that the most scenic vistas could be seen from the bluffs that overlooked the river from across the town of Tranquille. Barry, Sean, and Chuck were currently at this very spot; however, their attention was not on the valley or the town below. Their attention was on the wanted poster mounted on a signpost by the road leading down to the ferry. "DEAD OR ALIVE?!?!" Barry shouted. "What do they mean 'dead or alive'?" "Keep your voice down," Chuck said, looking around to see if anyone was near. "What did you two guys do, anyway?" "US?! We didn't do anything!" Barry said. "This has to be something you did!" "I don't see my face up there," Chuck said with a sniff. "Maybe it's not us," Sean said, a sick feeling in his stomach as he looked at his likeness. "No, that's definitely you two guys," Chuck said. "You're going to need a disguise." "Yeah, he's right," Barry said. "Heck, for 5,000 gold pieces, I'd turn us in." "But we haven't got any disguises, that is unless you've got some sort of magic disguises," Sean said, turning to Chuck. "Not much," Chuck said with a shrug. "I do have two spells that might work. I've got a temporary age regression, and I've got an illusion of gender-change." "Dibs on age regression," Barry said quickly. "Wait, illusion of what now?" Sean said. "Illusion of gender-change," Chuck said. "Makes you look like the opposite sex to everyone except yourself. More of a practical joke, really, or a great party gag. It's pretty funny watching some guy walk around not knowing he looks like a woman." "What was the other one?" Sean asked. "Temporary age regression," Chuck said. "It lasts a couple of weeks. I should be able to make one of you a teenager again." "I want that one," Sean said. "Too late, I called dibs," Barry said, smiling wickedly. "But... why can't we both be teenagers?" Sean asked. "Because I'm not that good, okay?" Chuck said, a little snippier than would have been appropriate. "Now do you want the disguise or not? Because if you go down there without one, you will get caught." "I... will it hurt?" Sean said. "No, it's just an illusion. You're not really changing anything," Chuck said. Sean looked like a trapped animal. "It's strictly temporary, right?" Sean said. "Yeah, yeah, don't worry so much," Barry said. "Okay Chuck, make with the magic. Do me first." "All right then," Chuck said, rummaging through his pack. "Let me just get a few things. Now, this may be a little disorientating, but it shouldn't be too bad. You may lose a little height and some mass. How big were you when you were seventeen? Where is that thing now?" "Aha!" he said, pulling out a short black wooden wand. "Now we can get started! Hold still." Chuck proceeded to use the wand to draw a circle around Barry, along with a few ornate symbols at cardinal points. "Okay now, look up. Now look down. Now look at me," Chuck said. Barry followed the instructions closely, which earned him a fistful of dust right in the face as soon as he looked up at Chuck. "Ack! Thphtth! My eyes! What did you do that for? What the hell was that?" he shouted. "Shut up, that's the spell," Chuck said. "I can't help it if that's how it's written. Now watch closely. We might notice some small changes fairly soon." Sean and Chuck watched closely, as Barry stood there waiting for something to happen. At first, nothing seemed different then Barry sneezed and immediately dropped at least two feet in height. "Was that supposed to happen?" Sean asked. "Holy crap, I'm a better wizard than I thought!" Chuck said. "I mean, yes. Yes, that was supposed to happen." "Whoa! Why are you guys giants?" Barry said, struggling in his now oversized clothes. "You made him a dwarf!" Sean said. "He's not a dwarf," Chuck said. "He's just a little younger than planned." "How young?" Barry asked in a high-toned petulant voice. "Five, maybe six," Chuck said. "Definitely older than four." "Make me older! Make me older right now!" "Calm down," Chuck said. "I can only do that by removing the spell, and if I do that we don't have a disguise. So let's just deal with what we got." "Deal with... you made me a child!" Barry said. "Best disguise ever," Chuck said. "No one will recognize you." "Not so happy you called dibs on age regression, now are you!" Sean said, laughing. "Okay, your turn," Chuck said, turning to Sean. "Wait," Sean said, the smile instantly gone from his face. "Maybe we should try to figure out what went wrong with Barry first." "Nothing went wrong," Chuck said while drawing a circle around Sean. "If anything, things went too right. Now, are you ready?" Sean swallowed once and nodded yes, before closing his eyes and mouth while pinching his nose shut with one hand. Chuck reached over with the wand and tapped Sean lightly once on the head. "Okay, you can look now," Sean said. Sean opened one eye at a time and looked down at himself. He did not see anything different. "When does it start?" he asked. "Oh, it's started," Chuck said proudly. "You're beautiful!" Barry said, looking at his friend in awe. "How come her clothes still fit? I mean his clothes, I mean... those clothes. How come they still fit?" "Because this is just an illusion spell," Chuck said, walking around Sean, straightening his clothes a little and generally admiring his handiwork. "It's like putting a lens in front of everyone's eyes, while the spell on you is an actual transformation. You really are that young, which is why your clothes don't fit anymore." "Great," Barry said. "So what am I supposed to wear then?" "Good question, we'll have to rig something up," Chuck said, turning once again to Sean. "And you will need something more feminine. I think I have a dress you can wear." "I have to wear a dress?" Sean said. *** "So what do we do now?" Mike said. He and Gary were standing by on horseback while Mordecai dismounted and stepped closer to study the wanted poster. The trio of riders was a half-day's journey from Castle Sanguine, and just inside the Languor border, on a woodland path near the joining of two other woodland paths. "Shut up, and let me read this," Mordecai said. Mordecai did not like what he was reading. A 5,000 gold coin reward for two Sanguine spies that looked an awful lot like Barry and Sean? It could not be a coincidence. Languor was offering a fortune for those two idiots. They had to know about the Sanguine Heart. Obviously, they meant to trigger a war. There would be no way for Sanguine to honor the treaty without the Heart. And no way to win, Mordecai thought. Without the Heart, Sanguine was finished. Gamfel needed to know what Languor was up to. But how best to get him the message? Mordecai licked his lips nervously and looked around at his surroundings. They might still be able to save the original plan if they got to the Princess of Languor before the Assumption. But for that to work, they would definitely need to blame the Witches of Rage. Mordecai instinctively reached for the pocket where he kept the invitation, carefully bundled to protect him and conserve its curse. Mike and Gary sat patiently, their horses flicking at flies. The sun beat hot on the surrounding second-cut forest. A few birds flitted around and a couple of dragonflies were hunting around the horses. "Here, take this," he said, handing the bundle with the cursed invitation to Mike. "You two ride as fast as you can to Tranquille and wait for me there. That's the only way they can get north out of Languor. If you see that idiot Barry or Sean, get them and hold them till I get there." "I'm going back to let Gamfel know about this," he said, mounting his horse. "Whatever you do, make sure that invitation gets to the Witches of Rage." With that, Mordecai rode back at a hard gallop along the way they had come. Mike and Gary looked after him until he was gone, then shrugged before heading off down the path deeper into Languor. *** "I look ridiculous," Sean said, tugging at the bodice of his dress. "You look fine, totally fine," Chuck said. "In fact, you kind of look pretty hot. Tell him, Barry." "Dude, you're a total babe," Barry said. "Well, I feel ridiculous," Sean said, fidgeting with the dress he wore. It was a typical court gown from Languor with a long full-pleated pastel yellow skirt. The top was a green brocade bodice with a wide square neckline and gauzy three-quarter length sleeves. Perhaps a little too fancy for travelling on the road, and a little tight on Sean, but the illusion spell made it look good. The three were walking down the main street of Tranquille, taking a momentary lull in the surrounding pedestrian traffic to break character. Anyone looking in on them would have seen a young couple, Chuck and his beautiful escort Sean, accompanied by a small child. "You feel ridiculous? How do you think I feel?" Barry said. He was wearing one of his white pullover shirts with the collar and sleeves cut off. The top hung loose on his small frame and the hem hung down to just past his knees. Chuck had finished off the look with a light purple ribbon that he wrapped around Barry's waist like a belt, and tied in the back with a bow. Barry wore no shoes. "Oh, buck up," Chuck said. "You know we didn't have any pants or shoes that fit you. It was either go dressed as a girl or go naked." "You are in so much trouble when this is done," Barry said. "Yeah, yeah," Chuck said. "Just mind your manners and be a good little girl while your mother and I do a little shopping." "Shopping?" Barry said. "Mother?" Sean said. "Just a few things," Chuck gushed. "Tranquille is famous for its magic shops! I'd be a fool not to take advantage of this. I am a wizard, after all." "Some wizard," Barry said with a snort. "Ah! Here we are," Chuck said. Chuck pulled up short in front of a small but elegant shop, tastefully decorated to stand out from the other small but elegant shops surrounding it. The most distinguishing feature was the large wooden sign that ran across the entire storefront. It read; M. JOUISSANCE Potions, Poudres, Philtres, et tout l'Attirail Magique. Chuck entered and held the door open for Sean and Barry, who shrugged and followed Chuck into the shop. "Bonjour, how may I help you?" said a bespectacled man with a waxen mustache. "Monsieur Jouissance?" Chuck asked. "Oui," the man said. "Excellent!" Chuck said, almost dancing in his excitement. "I can't believe I am actually in the shop of the most famous Monsieur Jouissance!" "You flatter me, kind sir," the proprietor said with a bow. "Perhaps I may interest you in some of my humble wares?" "Absolutely!" Chuck said. "I'm definitely in need of more spelling powder, and I'd like to see what you have in amulets." "Certainly, just this way please." Sean blinked a little in the subdued light of the shop as his eyes adjusted. The shop was deeper than wide with a display counter running before the right wall and another across the back, where a doorway indicated the presence of more rooms to the rear. Masks and contraptions of mysterious purpose covered most of the exposed areas on the walls and a display case of potions-to-go covered half the left side. "Ah, men and their obsession with magic," said a voice behind Sean. "It is a shame that they do not shower that sort of attention on us, no?" "Wha...?" Sean said, whirling around to see a woman and child working on one of the displays behind him. The woman was attractive, with auburn hair, maybe in her early thirties. She was dressed in red and black silks, comfortably loose, yet finely tailored to highlight her assets. The child was a girl of maybe eight years of age, light brown hair tied back with a ribbon. She wore a knee-length light blue dress and white leggings and simple black shoes. "Excusez-moi," the woman said. "I did not mean to startle. I am Madame Jouissance, you may call me Clairene. And this is my daughter, Matilde. And you are?" "I'm Sean," he said automatically. "...na! Sean...na, Shawna! Call me Shawna." "Enchant?," Clairene said. "I see you have a lovely daughter as well. What is your name, my child?" "Barry," Barry said. "Barry?" Clairene said, looking confused for a moment. "Like the fruit!" Sean said hurriedly. "Ah, Berry! La baie," she said. "What a delightful name. Perhaps you and Matilde would like to go play and leave us to talk the adult talk, no?" "If it's all the same to you," Barry said. "I'd like to stay here with my 'mother'." "But Matilde has the doll collection fantastique," Clairene said. "I am sure you two will have the great fun with the dress up. Matilde, take la Baie to your room and show her your dolls." "Oui, maman," Matilde said with a curtsy. "May I show her also my magic spells?" "Spells?" Barry said, a greedy look coming to his eyes. "You have magic spells?" "But of course!" Clairene said. "Show her all your things. You two girls go play, and leave us here to talk of boring things." "Well, if it's alright with you, 'mother'," Barry said. "I think I would like to get a look at those magic spells." "I guess so," Sean said. With that, Barry left hand in hand with the bigger girl, disappearing through the door at the back of the store. "Such a charming girl," Clairene said. "Children, they are a joy, no?" "No, I mean yes," Sean said. "And your husband, he is such a handsome man," Clairene said gesturing to where Chuck and her husband were engrossed in conversation. "So lean and slender, he must be a beast in bed." "Er... what?" Sean said. "You would not know it to look at him," she said, "but my husband is also a very powerful lover." "Oh..." Sean said, looking nervously to see if Chuck was finished with his transaction yet. "Oh yes, he is quite talented," Clairene said. "And not just the usual way, but also with... how you say, the tongue? But I am sure you are also quite satisfied with your man, no?" "Yeah... sure," Sean said, not sure what was going on. Clairene smiled and reached out to touch Sean on his arm. "Of course no man truly understands the body of a woman like another woman," she said, gently stroking Sean's forearm. "Are we just about done over there?" Sean called to Chuck a little too loudly. "It's going to be a while, darling," Chuck called back, before dropping once again into conversation with the proprietor. "It appears we have some time," Clairene said, smiling coyly. "Perhaps we can think of a way to entertain ourselves, no?" *** "But what else could it mean?" Mordecai asked. He had rode back hard to Castle Sanguine and burst in to Gamfel to give his report, still dirty from the trail. Gamfel paced the cramped space of his workshop, tugging on his beard with his brow furrowed, deep in thought. Mordecai stood by quietly awaiting a response. "What it means is obvious," Gamfel said, stopping to give a sideways sneering look at Mordecai. "What it implies, is more worrisome." "Huh?" "Of course Languor knows the Sanguine Heart is loose in the land," Gamfel said. "There is no other explanation for why they would be after our couriers, and no other reason for such a large reward. That much was obvious even to you." Mordecai nodded his agreement. Gamfel shook his head. "What worries me," Gamfel said, resuming his pacing, "is how Languor acquired this knowledge. I didn't tell them, I assume you didn't either." Mordecai shook his head no. "No, the only way they could have found out is if they had an inside man here in the castle," Gamfel said. "A spy?" Mordecai said, genuinely in shock. "Indeed, and probably a magic one," Gamfel said nodding his agreement. "Genius really, they accuse our couriers of the very crime they have committed." "I'll alert the guards! We must cancel the Assumption," Mordecai said. "You will do no such thing!" Gamfel said in a stern, demanding voice. "We must not be the ones who break the treaty." Gamfel stopped and looked thoughtful for a moment. "But call up the reserve," he said. "And levy the serfs. It appears that war is coming and we must make ready. But get me the Sanguine Heart or all is lost!" "Yes, Gamfel," Mordecai said, bowing as he left the workshop. Gamfel sighed as he collapsed into the wooden armchair by his desk, contemplating the empty pedestal where the Sanguine Heart had lain. Magic spies, it was the only logical explanation, and there were only a few mages with that ability and only one with the motive for such an act. Gamfel drummed his fingers nervously as he thought through the implications. Spying was a breach of the treaty. If Yashual was spying, it meant he probably already knew that the Sanguine Heart was not here. Moreover, if he knew, then King Eric knew. So what would the Lord of Languor do with such knowledge? Prepare for war. It made sense. But Languor would hesitate. They would have no allies without clear evidence that the treaty had been broken. They would hunt down Barry and Sean to claim the Heart for their own, force Sanguine to break the treaty, and then ride against Sanguine at the head of a grand alliance. It was obvious. He needed to capture those two before they fell in Languor's hands, or before they handed the gem over to the Witches of Rage. Failing that, kill them so that no one else got the Sanguine Heart. A grim look came over his face. If Languor were mobilizing an alliance, then he would need one too. If he played the spying angle, he might sway a kingdom or two to his side, but Languor had already accused those two idiots of being spies, so that muddied the water. No, he thought. He needed more. He needed an ally both ruthless and cunning; one to strike fear in Languor's heart. He knew one, but they were fickle, and the risks might be very high, very high indeed. *** "Well, I guess that's just about everything," Chuck said. "Oh, thank god!" Sean said, darting over to Chuck's side. "Monsieur Jouissance," Chuck said. "I want to thank you for a truly memorable experience." "Ah, but the pleasure has been mine," the proprietor said. "A shame the pleasure could not be ours, no?" Clairene said, coming up behind Sean and putting her hands on both of his shoulders and whispering in his ear. "WeRealyNeedToGetGoingNow!!!" Sean said, slightly hyperventilating. "Yeah... I guess we do," Chuck said, looking oddly at Sean. "Where's Barry?" "La Baie? Ah she is with Matilde," Clairene said. "Allow me." "Matilde!" she called. "Berry! Your maman and papa are ready, please come." "Maman! C'est encroyable!" Matilde called as she ran into the room. "All my spells, they work!" "Eh?" Further conversation stopped as Barry walked slowly into the room. The most noticeable difference was his clothes. Instead of the jury-rigged dress made from his doctored shirt, Barry was now wearing a low waisted, long sleeve dress. It was white, with delicately embroidered pale purple flowers along the hem, which hung just below knee length. His legs were still bare, but now he wore low, flat shoes tied at the ankle with a ribbon. "Cute!" Chuck said. It took Sean a moment to realize that Barry did look cute. A cute button nose, rosy cheeks, and large expressive eyes with long lashes combined to give Barry a very pretty face. He also had long, flowing hair that hung in thick curls to his shoulders. "Matilde!" Monsieur Jouissance said. "You should not cast spells on other people. It is rude." "But papa!" she said. "My apologies," her father said, turning his attention once more to Chuck. "My daughter is not normally so effective a spell caster. Still, no harm done and your daughter, she is beautiful." "You okay, Barry?" Sean said. "Just get me the hell out of here!" Barry hissed. *** Mordecai rode cautiously down the streets of Tranquille, heading for the constable's office. The whole town was abuzz with word that the two spies from Sanguine had been captured, here in Tranquille and that some lucky soul was set to claim the 5,000 gold coin reward from Languor. Mordecai was nervous. He did not give a tinker's cuss for what happened to Barry and Sean, but he needed to make sure that the Sanguine Heart did not wind up handed to Languor. If those two idiots still had the Heart... No, he needed to get to them, and preferably alone. But how to get access? He needed a ruse. There was no way a guard would turn over Sanguine spies to an official from Sanguine. Mordecai was actually proud of the plan he did come up with. He would pose as an agent of Languor. To that end, he had strategically added yellow and green flashes to his armor, while covering all traces of burgundy and blue. It did not exactly look like a uniform of Languor, but he hoped no one in Tranquille would notice the difference. So far, his plan was working. There were enough citizens of Languor in this border town that his appearance drew no particular attention as he rode down to the administrative section of town and tied his horse off at the commissariat. Mordecai took a moment for a few neck rolls and shoulder stretches to get into character, and then entered the office with as much confidence as he could muster and what he hoped was an air of authority. He was a little surprised by the lack of activity. At first, he thought the office empty. There was an empty holding cell to his left and a table piled high with forms and references to his right. Two empty desks sat between them, immediately to his front. At the back of the room was a heavily barred oak door; beside this was a much larger and slightly taller desk. A very fat, slightly sweaty man wearing a police uniform sat at that desk watching Mordecai and dully eating a pastry. "Oh, hello," Mordecai, said feigning a smile. "I'm here for the Sanguine spies. You can see that I am from Languor. I am here to take the Sanguine dogs with me, back to Languor, not Sanguine. For I am an officer of Languor, as you can plainly see. Not Sanguine." The fat man looked wistfully at his pastry for a moment, before putting it down with a sigh. "Languor, eh?" he said, rising as he brushed crumbs from his face and mustache, seemingly unaware of the powdered sugar that dusted the front of his uniform. "We don't get many constables from Languor here," he said, sticking his hand out for Mordecai. Mordecai shook the man's hand then winced before surreptitiously trying to wipe the remnants of sticky pastry from his hand. The constable did not seem to notice. "Not many spies, either," the constable said. "This is a peaceful place. We are not interested in these shenanigans you and Sanguine seem to enjoy so much." "I wouldn't say 'enjoy' is the word," Mordecai said. "A nasty business." "What is?" "Spying," the constable said shaking his head. "All this lying about one's intentions and identities, and stealing! For what I ask you? So that a few secrets and a few coins change hands? Such betrayal! It is enough to make an honorable man weep." "Quite." "You know what they should do to all these liars?" the constable said, effusively moving his hands about as he spoke. "They should line them up and chop off their heads. That would teach them!" "I imagine they wouldn't do that again." "Exactly!" the constable said, stabbing a fat finger towards Mordecai's face. "Kill them all and be done with it. Still, then we could not collect the reward, no? A matter of great concern here." "Yes, well as soon as you release the prisoners to my custody and I get them back to Languor, I, as a soldier of Languor, will personally see that you are paid that reward, from Languor, because that is where I am going. To Languor, where I am from." Mordecai smiled nervously. The constable exhaled and grunted slightly as he plunked himself back down to his chair, before reaching into a drawer of his desk and pulling out an oversized key ring and small washcloth. "Of course," he said, wiping his brow and neck with the cloth. "There is the small matter of the transfer fee, the prisoner tax, and the registration of the warrant of extradition. May I see the warrant, please?" "Ah, I was hoping we could do this with less paperwork," Mordecai said. "I seem to have... misplaced my documentation." "Misplaced?" "Yes, will that be a problem?" "Is it a problem? Oui!!" the constable shouted. "You think we just hand out prisoners to anyone who asks? Tabernac! No! First we will have to create a whole new set of extradition papers from here." "So it can be done," Mordecai said, a note of optimism in his voice. "But of course," the constable said, wringing his hands, "but the cost... we have much to do. There will be a temporary waiver of jurisdiction, rights of passage on land and navigable waterways, and lieu of deputized constable permits. Then there is the local parish road-improvement tax on all documents generated within 100 leagues of the port of Tranquille. Then we need to file all documents at the royal registry and receive copies of the court fees for document registration, with the Castle stamp." "How long is this going to take?" Mordecai asked. "I'd like to get them to Sanguine... I mean Languor, by tonight." "Tonight? Not possible," the constable said, rising with great exertion and huffing slightly as he made his way to the table filled with references and forms. "You see my backlog," he said, gesturing in the general direction of several piles of papers. "And all my assistant constables, they are gone and will not be back soon." "So..." Mordecai said, thinking carefully. "You say you're alone, then?" "Oui, for at least several hours," the constable said. The constable proved remarkably easy to subdue, as most people are when struck from behind by large blunt objects. In no time, Mordecai had him bound and gagged on the floor behind his desk. Of course, this was clearly a violation of diplomatic protocol and would be considered an international incident, which Mordecai hoped to blame on Languor. To that end, he had written 'Languor Rules!' and 'Don't Mess with Languor' on several places of bare wall around the room. Mordecai went to pick up the key ring from the constable's desk once he had finished with his graffiti, and stopped to take in the glare from the bound and gagged fat man. "Languor," he said, holding a swath of his yellow and green disguise up for the constable to see and flashing thumbs up. "Tranquille sucks!" he added, with emphasis, before grabbing the keys and opening the oak door. Mordecai stared blankly, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the darkened room. There were two cells here; one empty. The other cell had two sleeping figures. Mordecai wondered if he should just kill them in their sleep, but that might not pin the blame firmly on Languor. No, he needed to get Barry and Sean out of town, get them to hand over the Sanguine Heart, and then kill them. That would be the only way. "Get up you two!" he shouted, kicking at the beds. "Get up! We need to get you two out of Tranquille now!" The two bodies woke with a start and sat up, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. "Mordecai! You came for us!" they said, seemingly in unison. "Oh for..." Mordecai said, throwing his head back in disgust. "God damn it! Gary and Mike, get your asses up and out of here! We need to find Barry and Sean!" *** "This sucker's on here really tight," Chuck said, as he examined Barry. "What is?" Barry said, getting his annoyance across despite his squeaky youthful voice. "This spell, or rather spells," Chuck said, adding extra emphasis on the final s. "It looks like she hit you with at least five different spells here." The three travelers were resting under the shade of a large oak tree, on a grassy hillock, just past the outskirts of Tranquille. Barry, still wearing his white flowered dress and looking as cute as ever, was sitting perched on a large flat rock while Chuck examined him. "Five?" Sean asked. "Maybe more," Chuck said with a shrug. "Definitely the clothes, maybe a little makeup and perfume added in, that might also include the earrings. The hair for sure, don't know if the big eyes, button nose, dimples, and mouth are separate spells or combinations. Smile for me." Barry showed his teeth in a snarl. "Okay, maybe not the mouth," Chuck said. "But you can fix him, right?" Sean said. "You know, if these were all just individual spells, it would be a piece of cake," Chuck said. "Mostly they're just simple appearance modification spells, like fancy cosmetics. Kid stuff. Better than illusion, but not really transformation. For some reason they really took off on you." "But you can fix me, right?" Barry said. "I wouldn't recommend it," Chuck said. "You should probably just let this wear off in a month or two." "WHAT!" Barry said, standing up on the rock to better look Chuck in the eye. "You want me to go around looking like a little girl for a month?" "Or two," Chuck said. "Safer that way. You've got at least five appearance modification spells all twined around each other in knots. On top of that, you were already under a transformation spell when she zapped you. I start undoing this and anything might happen." "You're kidding, right?" Barry said. "Plus think of the advantages of staying this way," Chuck said. "What... 'advantages'?" Barry said, moving his hands out and down to indicate his current appearance and highlight his predicament. "Well, you've already got a lovely dress," Chuck said. "And he'd eat less at this size," Sean added, helpfully. "You see?" Chuck said, smiling. "It's a win-win situation." Barry stood there with mouth open. "Of course we would have to carry him some of the way. He's too small to walk far on his own," Sean said. "Oh, yeah. I hadn't thought of that," Chuck said. "I suppose he could walk part of the way," Sean said, touching his lip thoughtfully as he studied Barry. "And we could switch off carrying him the rest!" Chuck said. "That might work," Sean nodded. "How much does he weigh, anyway?" "I don't know," Chuck said. "Fifty pounds?" "Fifty?" Sean said, skeptically. "No way he's fifty." "Hey!" Barry said, as Chuck picked him up and bounced him once or twice. "Maybe forty," Chuck said, handing Barry over to Sean. "Here, what do you think?" "Quit it!" Barry said. "About forty," Sean said, nodding his agreement. "Put me down!" Barry shouted, punching Sean ineffectually. "Sorry," Sean said, putting Barry back down on the ground. "Are you two insane?" Barry said, stamping his shoe down on the ground and flipping his hair back away from his face. "No way I'm staying this way!" "But the spells..." Sean said. "Shut up!" Barry said. "I may not know much about magic, but I do know that a transformation spell trumps a modification spell. So all you have to do is transform me back into an adult, and all these appearance spells will go away." "Will that work?" Sean asked Chuck. "Maybe, probably," Chuck said, with a shrug. "But all these spells are going kind of squirrely. I'm not sure what would happen." "DO IT ANYWAY!!!" Barry screamed. "All right, all right," Sean said. "Chuck, you'd better break the spell." "Okay, but I warned you," Chuck said, digging through his pack to retrieve the wand. Barry looked almost angelic, standing there with his arms crossed across his chest, waiting as Chuck drew the circle around him. And, once again, was caught completely off guard by a handful of spelling powder thrown into his face. "Ack!! Phthpt... thhptt!!" Barry said. "Is that really necessary?" "Hey, I don't tell you two guys how to... to..." Chuck said. "What is it you guys do again?" "Well, we do a lot of cleaning and we deliver things," Sean said. "You're kidding?" Chuck said. "Anyway, I don't tell you how to... deliver things... Seriously? Cleaning? Really?" Barry's sneeze cut off further conversation as Chuck and Sean turned just in time to see him shoot up at least a foot in height. At the same time, his hair seemed to shoot down, growing until it reached his waist. His dress reverted to the same, doctored pullover shirt and ribbon belt he had worn walking into Tranquille, though now it only reached mid- thigh. "Finally," Barry said. "Hey, why are you guys still taller? What the..." he added after noticing his hair. "Why did it stop half-way?" Sean asked. "It didn't stop, it's finished," Chuck said, a note of irritation in his voice. "Then why is he so short?" Sean asked. "And why does he still look like a girl?" "I'm not a girl! Am I?" Barry said, before nervously lifting the hem of his shirt to reveal a small, but noticeably male set of genitalia. "See!" he said. "Put that away!" Chuck said. "Okay, he's not a girl," Sean said. "But why is he so short and delicate looking?" "Shut up, let me think!" Chuck said agitatedly. Chuck examined Barry closely. The long hair was obvious, the large doe- like eyes maybe a little less obvious. Delicate chin, high cheek bones, tiny upturned nose, slender neck, sloping shoulders, thin arms, long fingers, slight exaggeration of the hips, small feet, and an overall lack of body hair; all that combined with a flat chest and male genitalia. The answer was clear. "Okay, the good news is that the spell worked," Chuck said. "What do you mean 'it worked'?" Barry said. "I look like I'm twelve!" "No, you're the same age you were when we started," Chuck said. "You just grew up... pretty." "Pretty?" Barry said. "Can you undo it?" Sean asked. "Undo what?" Chuck said. "There's no spell on him. This is what he looks like now." "What do you mean 'pretty'? You guys are so dead!" Barry said. "Can you do that illusion of gender-change on him?" Sean asked. "That would just make him look like a pretty woman," Chuck said. "He is still male, after all." "Dead. I tell you, you're dead," Barry said. "Man," Sean said shaking his head. "I'm glad all I got was the illusion spell. At least I can get rid of this stupid dress." "Sean..." Barry started to say by way of warning, before Chuck put his hand on Barry and silently nodded no. Sean undid the dress and wriggled out of its tight confines. Once free of the undergarment he drew back his arms up and back, and tilted his head in a luxurious stretch, relishing the cool air on his naked torso. "Ahhhh," he said, idly scratching his chest. It took Sean a moment to register the wide-eyed stares and broad grins on his compatriots' faces. "I'm still under the illusion spell, aren't I?" he asked. *** Gamfel trod carefully over the loose stones and smashed bones that littered the floor of the giant Cave of Perdition. There were many who knew of this place, but few who have seen it, and fewer still who came back to tell of it. Gamfel was taking no slight risk here. The darkness of the cave clung to him like silk. Movement was implied in this dank, stale air around him. He could hear the scurrying of large beasts, and every now and then feel and smell the sulfurous blast of hot air that followed a feral hiss. "Halt!" a breathy bass voice said calmly expecting obedience. Gamfel stopped, mostly without fear, but with a healthy dose of adrenaline. The dragons of Perdition were not creatures to trifle with. They were powerful beings, and very, very dangerous, especially when hungry. He could hear them, the sound of their movement to surround him, accompanied by the quick, sharp snap of jaws and the wet slap of tail and limb against the rocks. They were hungry now and much closer, eager for an easy meal. However, Gamfel was not without defense. "Back! Foul serpents!" he shouted, simultaneously lighting a fireball and flinging it into the snout of the nearest of the beasts. This earned him a satisfying yelp of pain, or surprise, from the owner of the snout, who did back off. The light showed him surrounded by a dozen or more dragons of mixed size, the smallest easily the size of a horse. Gamfel quickly lit a second fireball and held it aloft. All he saw were dragons. There were dozens, maybe a hundred or more, arrayed around him, their golden eyes reflecting back at him from the depths of the cave like a constellation. "The food has bight," said the same breathy voice that had ordered him to halt. "I seek Lord Pang!" Gamfel shouted with as much authority as he could muster. "Pang is dead," said the voice. "Regret rules here now." "Then I would deal with Lord Regret," Gamfel calmly said. "Would you?" said the voice, lowering its massive head to within a few feet of Gamfel. Gamfel felt the creature's hot breath and fought to show no fear. Its head was at least as big as his whole body, and its saucer-sized eyes focused on him with predatory intent. "I seek an alliance!" he shouted. "An alliance with food? That seems... unnatural," the dragon said, drawing its head back to look askance at Gamfel. "Why should I even consider such a vulgar absurdity?" "Because, Lord Regret," Gamfel said, now sure of who he was talking to, "I offer you more of what you truly want than what you could gather in a dozen lifetimes." "And what is that?" Regret said, with what passed as a smirk on its snout. "Man flesh, as much as you can eat," Gamfel said. "A great war is coming, and there will be much dying. If you join with Sanguine, you will have free reign to scavenge the fields ripe with the dead and the dying. Fight with us, and you will feel the joy of still living meat, shrieking as it is crushed between your jaws!" There were excited murmurs and yips from the assembled dragons. Many were making short hops in the air with great flaps of their wings. Several seemed to be fornicating in tangled masses, writhing in their excitement. Fiery exhalations were everywhere, and the air was hot with their fetid breath. "A war! How wonderful and productive," Regret said. "We do so love these arguments your kind seems to indulge in. They are so... profitable." Gamfel could tell that even Regret was excited at the prospect of war. Dragons lived for these opportunities. "But why should we choose sides?" Regret said, a sly look in its eye. "We can take the dead and hunt the living, and thrive in the chaos without any 'alliance' with you, little morsel. What is truly in it for us?" "Because, Lord Regret," Gamfel said, leaning conspiratorially close. "When we win, you will have the skies of Languor as your private preserve. No knight will challenge you, no soldier will fight you. You will rule with fear and terror, and hunt in leisure. It shall be your domain." A low growl escaped Regret's mouth, as its long neck reached out and around Gamfel, examining him from all directions. "I like you, tidbit," Regret said, its tongue darting in and out as it sampled the air around Gamfel. "You have the heart of a dragon. I like this 'alliance' of yours. My dragons will join your fight on those terms." The cavern erupted with more excited roars, accompanied by thrashing and biting, and other violence as joy. Gamfel waited for the tumult to die down. He was pleased so far, but had one more favor to ask. "Then it is agreed," he said. "But first, you must do one task to seal the deal." Regret's growl changed tone, menacingly, and a small puff of heated air and smoke blew out its nostrils. "What task 'must' we do?" Regret asked, its brow furrowed with both eyes focused on Gamfel. "A hunt, perhaps a kill," Gamfel said in placating tones. "There are two messengers on the way to Rage that must be stopped. They stole an it