Descent into the Depths of the Earth (43 page)

The entire faerie court immediately froze.

The Justicar merely shrugged and continued, “The images here
will show the summonation ceremonies. Escalla and my party were able to
interfere. The masked faerie lost the slowglass in combat with Escalla.”

Escalla’s mother had sat like a creature with a vile smell
beneath her nose throughout the entire trial. Sitting erect, the woman made a
show of wiping clean her hands. “A waste of our time. Your assassin is still
masked! There is no way to ascertain her identity!”

“Oh but there is!” Escalla hovering in midair before the
assembled court. With a theatrical sweep, she addressed the entire room. “The
thief made a mistake! You saw it in the image. We need to find someone who
always wears a silver spider ring!”

Tielle immediately put her left hand beneath her dress. Lord
Faen, Jus, and Escalla turned to look at the girl and raised their brows.
Escalla flew over to join her family, while Lord Faen turned back to the
Erlking.

“My King, evidence seems to point well away from Escalla
Nightshade.”

“Granted,” Oberon replied gravely.

“Oh hoopy!” Escalla clasped full hands to her bosom in joy,
then tossed something in the air. “Hey, sis!
Catch!”

A beautiful conical shell fell into Tielle’s lap. Tielle gave
a screech of raw fear and hurled the thing off her lap, leaping away in terror.

Hovering above, Escalla flexed her fingers as though
unsheathing claws.

“It’s only a little seashell, an empty one from a kuo-toan
temple.” Escalla picked up the shell and held it to her ear with a look of
concentration on her face, as though she were talking to the mollusk inside.
“What? What was that? Tarquil’s assassin used a kuo-toan cone shell? But we
never mentioned that to anyone but Daddy and Lord Faen!” Escalla turned big wide
eyes upon Tielle. “What? How would Tielle recognize a kuo-toan cone shell unless
she was the assassin? I dunno. Let’s ask her!”

Waving at her sister, Escalla pulled a severed hand out from
behind her back—a hand wearing a silver ring.

“Hey, dimwit! You lost it back at the temple, ring and all!
We even got it on the slowglass!” Escalla shook the feminine hand back and forth
in a wave. “Gotcha!”

Tielle shrank back in her seat, then shoved both of her hands
into the air. “I have two hands.”

“Yep, and a regeneration spell only takes about a minute.”
Escalla twirled the severed hand in the air. “If I get a clone spell cast on
this, you think you’ll be twins?”

Tielle didn’t hesitate an instant. With a screech, the girl
blasted a black bolt of energy—not at Escalla but at Oberon, who sat staring on
his throne.

Jus whirled, the white sword streaking from its sheath. White
light met black in a screaming howl of agony, sparks spraying all across the
hall. The black bolt sheared in two, each part ploughing through the palace
walls to either side of the Erlking. Jus sank into guard position, his magic
sword smoking black as it dissipated the deadly force still clinging to the
blade. Cinders snarled, hissing smoke, and the Justicar launched toward Tielle.

As the entire court erupted in chaos, Tielle turned, ripped a
flower from a vase, and threw it through a fireplace. A magic gateway flashed
into place. She dived and rolled, plunging through the portal an instant before
the Justicar’s sword blurred through the empty space. The gateway had gone—open
and shut in a single instant.

“Damn!”

The court was still sealed tight by the guards’ spells.
Escalla ripped open the scrolls in the case on her back—treasures from the
underdark—and trilled out the passwall spell. A hole appeared, leading onto the
lawns crowded with refugees. Tielle emerged from a gazebo and instantly dived
toward a garden patch, searching for herbs to use as keys for her escape.

Escalla snarled through the air and hit her sister full tilt,
both of them tumbling end over end across the grass. Hundreds of refugees stood
and stared.

In the palace hall, guards had clustered about the Erlking,
too shocked to follow in pursuit. Only Lord Nightshade, Lord Faen, and a few
courtiers had followed into the night.

Escalla’s scroll tube went flying. Hair ripped, and lich
staff tumbled. Tielle drew a dagger but took a right-cross from Escalla’s fist
that threw her back against a tree. Tielle turned, seized an orchid, and tossed
it toward a garden arch. A gate sizzled into existence, but Escalla smashed a
branch across Tielle’s head before she could fly free.

Jus lumbered down the lawn. Other faeries followed, slow and
dazed. Tielle and Escalla fought in bitter fury, punching spells at one another
that were too weak to pierce through each other’s defensive screens. Each had
exhausted all their best spells battling in the underdark. Escalla now took the
fight where it belonged. She kicked her sister in the chest, sending her
ploughing through the grass.

“Bitch!”

“Sniveling little daddy’s girl!” Tielle wiped blood back from
her nose. “When I’m queen I’ll have them rip your guts apart.”

Escalla swore and threw a spell—a minor little thing that
ricocheted from Tielle’s defensive shields. Tielle laughed and backpedaled gaily
through the air, one eye on the gateway shimmering in the dark.

“Time to bid your comic spells farewell!” The girl spread her
wings wide. “Lolth will be back, and I’ll be with her! Time to shoot off and
away!”

Jus and the faerie guards were coming fast. As Escalla made a
lunge for her fallen lich staff, Tielle tipped a mocking salute to one and all
and headed for escape.

From behind, Escalla’s voice came loud and clear. “Nope! Time
to die and get buried!”

Tielle whipped her head about. Escalla stood in the grass,
lich staff at her feet and an open scroll in her hands. “Hey! You like comical
magic?
Top this!”
Escalla trilled spell syllables, unleashing power
stored in the scroll. “Flesh to stone!”

Tielle screamed and tried to plunge through the gate, but the
powerful spell blasted into her from behind. As Jus, Henry, and a dozen faeries
thundered onto the scene, Tielle’s body jerked and turned to stone, slamming
down to the ground.

Escalla stalked forward, looking extremely miffed.

“Framing me was the worst idea you ever had, bitch!” Escalla
flicked out the scroll. “Spell number two—for those of you who have come through
this with a sense of humor—
stone to mud!”

Frozen in a pose of horror, Tielle’s petrified shape
instantly dissolved into a pool of mud. Escalla steepled her fingers as she
surveyed the results.

“Aaaand for my grand finale, let us just cancel out that
flesh to stone spell, huh?”

The result was a big pink pool with a pair of blinking eyes
staring up from the mess. Escalla bit her thumb at her sister, then turned about
to see Henry and the Justicar staring at her wide-eyed. Escalla could only roll
up her scrolls and shrug.

“Like I said, I have a nasty side!”

A splendid day began in the Dreadwood. Sun streamed through
the trees, lighting upon ruined village roofs and mossy giants’ bones. Woodsmoke
carried the scent of bacon in the air. A few faerie courtiers walked along or
fluttered above the paths, peering at the astonishing sights of an unknown
world. Drifting over it all came the sound of happy feminine singing—a voice
that had not a worry in the world.

Enid the sphinx, freckle-spattered and eternally polite, came
loping from the old tavern, batting at a rolled up ball of parchment with her
paws. She stopped as she saw a ten-foot hole sitting in the middle of the path,
and minced over to peer into the depths.

The hole was deep and looked remarkably comfortable. It had
been lined with polished bookshelves that smelled pleasantly of beeswax.
Hundreds of books and scrolls were neatly stored in place. Enid’s entire library
lay in the middle of the shelves, surrounded by scores upon scores of new books.

Still singing happily, Escalla came flying out of the tavern.
She wore new clothing—black elven chain mail so fine that it felt like sheer
black silk, gloves and leggings, skirt and halter, all as stylish as a faerie
could wish. Followed by a floating disk that bore two dozen fresh new books,
Escalla whirred over to Enid and waved.

“Hey, Enid! It’s for you. Like it?”

“Like it?” Enid peered down into the hole with wide eyes.
“Are those books all for me?”

“Books, maps, scrolls, riddles, lost languages… I even
swiped some from a lich, so be careful with those! Bought the rest in town.
Keoland paid a reward for returning their lost population.” Escalla tugged at
one corner of the hole and lifted it up. “And it all folds up like a
handkerchief! We can carry it with us wherever we go.” Escalla tucked the folded
portable hole into Enid’s pretty collar. “Here. From us to you—a gift for our
friend.”

Escalla hugged the huge sphinx, who nuzzled happily and
purred. Heaving a sigh and enjoying the sunshine, Escalla looked over the
crumbling old village. With her lich staff at her belt and her recharged ice
wand in one hand, Escalla lifted into the air on silver wings.

“Polk! Come on, man. We’re going! And don’t forget the map!”

A snort came in reply, and an annoyed voice echoed from
inside the shadows of the inn. “I can’t bring the damned map! You know danged
well I can’t! Someone else will have to!”

“Just carry the damned thing and stop grousing!” Escalla
waved her arms in irritation. “Look man, you’re a hero back from the dead!
Faerie magic—lifetime warrantee! Can’t you just be a
little
bit pleased?”

A big hairy badger waddled out of the door and glared up at
Escalla. “You did this on purpose!”

“I did not!” Escalla bridled, the picture of absolute
innocence. “Would I do that to you? Hey, man! It was faerie magic! How was I
supposed to remember that they can only do reincarnation spells?”

“It ain’t funny!” As a badger, Polk made an impressive
sight—fat, hairy, and with a regal waddle to his walk. “I can’t even pour my own
beer!”

“We’ll put it in a bowl for you! At least they made it so you
can talk. What’s your problem?” Ever helpful, Escalla brought the case to Enid
for judgment. “Enid, does this suit him or what?”

The sphinx wrinkled up her pretty nose as she bowed down to
inspect the sulking badger. “Well, I must say I like the stripes!”

“See! She likes the stripes!” Escalla waved a hand at Enid.
“Think of the advantages. No more clothing expenses, hours of happy excavation,
and you get to sleep in all winter!”

Polk glared at Escalla and licked his chops. “I said it ain’t
funny.”

“All right, here’s a plan.” Escalla sat cross legged on
Enid’s furry back. “We’ll go find someone human who has a proper raise dead
spell. Then we’ll just kill you again, and get them to raise you back!”

Polk bristled in annoyance. “I’d still come back as a badger!
I come back as what I was when I died!”

“Well, then we could reincarnate you again!” Escalla seemed
utterly enthused by the idea. “I mean, a badger is only one random choice out of
many! Maybe you’ll come out as something even hoopier? How about a giant
woodlouse? Or you could be a beaver and do woodwork in your spare time.”

“No, thank you.” Polk sniffed in enormous self-importance.
“Badgers got dignity, and from here on, if you don’t do what I tell you, I’ll
give you all fleas.”

Escalla froze. “Do badgers have musk glands?”

“You’ll find out.” Polk waddled over to Enid’s back and
clambered aboard. “So we’re leaving? Where’s lunch? Where’d the Justicar go? I
want to fill him in on all my newfound woods-wisdom. Bein’ a badger gives a man
a whole new range of skills!”

* * *

Walking quietly through the forest, Lord Faen, Lord
Nightshade, and the Justicar reached a meadow filled with buttercups. The
brilliant yellow flowers glittered in the morning sun, the winter cold giving
way to a warm and mellow spring. The Justicar found a mossy log and spread
Cinders out beneath a sunbeam. He popped a piece of coal into the hell hound’s
mouth, and the dog sucked happily and thumped his tail against the bark.

’nk you!

“You’re welcome.”

The big man scratched fingers across his freshly shaven head,
his dragon scales armor gleaming in the sun. The newly repaired magic sword at
his belt gave a sniff and wriggled in her sheath.

At least justice has been done.
The sword’s voice brimmed
with self esteem.
A Justicar! A dealer of justice! Ours is a most satisfying
profession.

“Quite.” The Justicar poured good dark ale from his own
flask, passing little thimble cups to Lord Faen and Escalla’s father. The two
faeries sat cross legged on the mossy log, frowning as they tested the alien
drink and finding the earthy taste a bit puzzling. Lord Nightshade drained his
cup then held it out for more, while Lord Faen quietly put his own drink aside.