Jak Barley-Private Inquisitor and the Case of the Seven Dwarves (30 page)

"Lorenzo was afraid some Dorga devotees or hired swords might try and make off with Frost Ivory before you could get here today. He asked me to provide a few surprises if they did materialize."

"Alchemists," Morganna sniffed. "And what do you think you could do if a mage appeared?"

Olmsted chose not to acknowledge the affront, accustomed to such slights from magic users. I now knew what message Lorenzo had sent last night. We then turned to the shed.

The small, gaily-painted building was nestled amidst a grove of miniature willows. Making a half circle about the door, my accomplices stood sentry as I cautiously lifted the latch with sword drawn. I did not know what to expect, but I doubted it could be a mage or assassin if overpowered by the diminutive coal miners. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the dark interior. Bound and gagged was a human enough looking fellow dressed in what appeared to be court attire. It was the viscount I had last seen at the Baron's ball.

"Mika," I shouted and said for the second time within a minute, "what are you doing here?"

I was answered by only a muffled retort. The dwarves had not only bound Mika with hemp twine, but also gagged him. I stepped in and began untying him over the protests of the dwarves.

"What are you doing here," I repeated once again after pulling away the gag.

"I take it these are your friends since they display similar attributes of your servants. I am just surprised they did not run off with my garments," Mika observed as he pulled loose from the last cords and rose to his feet. "Ah, Morgana, how good to see you again."

You have to hand it to these royals. Just freed from the hot confines of a garden shed and he was politely bowing to Morgana with a regal sweep of one arm.

I thought back to my discussions with the viscount while on our way to the witch's domicile. We had briefly discussed the maiden, and Morgana did later mention that Mika seemed engrossed with the case.

"I take it you are familiar with Frost Ivory, Mika. How do you connect to all this?" I asked bluntly.

Still dusting himself off, Mika replied. "Her name is not Frost Ivory, Jak, but Duchess Avrama of the Province of Rhyneland. She is also my intended. I have been seeking her for several months."

"Playing hard to get?" Lorenzo asked.

"It is not as you imagine. While Dorga and his priests may have been banished from Stagsford and the more populated quarters of our country, they are still entrenched in the hinterlands. That includes the mountainous border areas of Rhyneland. Rumors have been circulating of some monstrous ritual planned by his priests, which by their nature include young maidens. An unsuccessful abduction attempt was made upon Avrama over the winter.

"Avrama was moved to her father's fortress and surrounded by extra guardsmen. I can only guess she found the surroundings too bleak or the fear of falling into Dorga's clutches too frightful. Whichever the case, she took flight several months ago and I traced her to Duburoake. I discovered her whereabouts from Morgana and have since been seeking the help of sorcerers to break the spell."

"And you found a way to break the curse?" I asked.

"No, sadly enough. But yesterday a messenger brought word from her father's spies that a roundup of sacrificial maidens was about to begin. I had no choice but to steal her away before Dorga's henchmen could find her."

I contemplated Mika's story. It sounded genuine and the young viscount seemed sincere. I relied on my hunches and I liked him from our first meeting. Lorenzo obviously felt the same because he began filling the viscount in on what was transpiring. The dwarves also gathered closely to listen. Mika's eyes lit up at the mention of Morganna having a spell breaker.

"We have wasted enough time," the witch snapped. "Every minute we delay gives Dorga's minions time to meddle."

Morganna swept past the gatherers in the front yard and made her way to the glass coffin. The dwarves followed nervously as if unsure of this course of action now playing out with their cherished Frost Ivory. It must have been a shock for them to discover the maiden was a duchess and also to be betrothed. The witch unceremoniously threw back the glass lid and laid the parchment on Avrama's bosom. She withdrew a number of small phials and laid them on the written spell.

"Stand back," she ordered and began reading from the Ghennison Viper Mage document. Many spells predate present orders of magic and it seemed such with this incantation. Though the language was unfamiliar, it at least sounded of human origin. There was no waving of hands or loud cries to the heavens. It was all very anticlimactic. Pausing now and then to empty a vial over the sleeping maiden, Morganna soon completed the enchantment. She withdrew the parchment and empty glass containers then stepped back. A hush had fallen over the small assembly as everyone stared intently at the young maiden.

There was no sudden wind, no bright lights, nor sound of trumpets. Avrama simply opened her eyes, blinked several times, and sat up--there to gaze about her in confusion until her eyes fell upon Mika. There was no doubt then of his story. The maiden smiled broadly and raised her arms to the viscount who almost knocked over those about him in his haste to reach her.

"It seems you have earned your coal," sniffed Snot, "though we lose Frost Ivory in the bargain."

"Maybe she will name their first born after you," I replied in jest, though the dwarf appeared to find the thought to his liking. I did not have the heart to correct the notion by mentioning that Snot is not a name commonly found among the royal courts of Glavendale.

"You will be safer with us until this matter is brought to an end. You may ride with us back to my residence," Morganna told the two. She was not wasting time, having already packed her paraphernalia. The dwarves look disheartened, but having heard Lorenzo's brief summary and Mika's own story, there was not much they could say.

Mika was leading an unsteady Avrama to the carriage when the first magical discharge resounded with the impact of a nearby lightning bolt. A sudden tempest battered our troupe and forced me to close my eyes against the flying dirt and debris. I leaned into the gale and fell forward when it ended as abruptly as it began.

Though I was completely startled by the attack, the witch was not caught off guard. As the dust cleared, I could see a sparkling ward about her that fended off the flying debris. A few flicks of her finger were answered by balls of white-hot flame that she sent spinning over the garden stonewall. It was followed by a detonation that sent even more dirt into the air, as well as the tattered shreds of a mage's robe. Then came total chaos.

Four Ghennison Viper mages, boots inches above the ground, glided to the front gate. Both the witch and the mages began hurling rods of flames at each other. All of us except the magic users were knocked off our feet as the dwarves' yard became an inferno. The streams of fire flowed back and forth in countless shades of strange colors I would be hard pressed to describe or name. The air rippled violently as if it were being torn apart. The magical shields were so far deflecting the attacks upon both the witch and the mages.

One wizard changed tactics and hammered his staff to the ground. A wide crack appeared at his feet and surged toward our party like a hungry snake. I rolled to the side as it rushed by--the sound of tearing roots and sundered ground roaring louder than a herd of musk bulls. I glanced over my shoulder to see Morganna coolly sidestepping the fissure as she maintained a steady magical onslaught against the four mages. Knowing what I do about magic, I was surprised she was showing no trace of fatigue. Such exertions can quickly sap the strength of even the strongest of wizards.

Morganna had come prepared. Her arsenal and strength had taken the mages by surprise and they grouped closer together. The wizard with the staff raised it for another strike at the ground. His brief preoccupation with the second blow left him vulnerable to one of Morganna's fiery blasts. It sent him hurling backwards a dozen feet to land in a smoking, broken heap. The remaining three wizards frantically stepped up their attacks.

I was in a nightmare. I wanted to help, but to stand for even a second would have resulted in me being burnt like a forgotten roast. The others were also hunkering down--that is except Olmsted, who was crawling toward a box near the cottage. I took courage in knowing that he and Lorenzo had obviously planned for such an attack. I watched as he fumbled with the box and sorted through a number of colored lines I now observed snaked off in many directions. He chose one of the small cables and its split ends were inserted into a protrusion on the box.

I heard a muffled cry from Morganna and turned my head to see her stumble. All three of the mages' blasts had hit her shield simultaneously and it wavered with alarming flickers. That she still stood was unbelievable. Even the mages appeared surprised and I could see a look of haggardness on their faces. I turned back to Olmsted to urge speed in whatever scheme he and Lorenzo had devised--just in time to see him push down a small handle. A blast rocked the earth and my ears rang from the thunderous report. Clods of dirt and rock began raining down. A thump next to me was that from a severed mage's arm. A foot bounced off the back of one of the dwarves.

I am sure there was deathly stillness following the mysterious explosion, but the clamorous ringing in my ears deafened me to even silence.

Everyone timidly climbed to their feet. Morganna, with the battle over, now looked exhausted and dazed.

Morgana rushed to her swaying mother and took her by the arm. Mika still clung to Avrama.

I found myself turning in slow circles just to take in the riotous scene that surrounded us. Sections of trees and bushes were scorched and blackened. The wind had strewn broken tree limbs across the yard, as well as toppling the long-legged pink birds they used as yard embellishments. Bits and pieces of the mages were sprinkled about for good measure.

"This is going to piss off the neighbors," I heard Lorenzo say over the buzzing.

"Olmsted," I shouted at my brother, probably louder than I needed to because of the ringing in my ears. He stopped brushing dirt out of his hair and looked up. "What in the name of Hades was that? Were you using magic?"

My hunchback half brother looked at me in abhorrence. "Jak, I am a man of science, an alchemist. I do not dabble in magic."

"How did you blow up the mages?"

"Simple," a voice came from over my shoulder. It was Lorenzo. "Just chicken shit and charcoal."

"What, no eye of newt?" I asked in disbelief.

"Lorenzo is right, though the recipe was a bit more involved than just chicken shit and charcoal. He calls it gunpowder. I planted a number of jars filled with gun power around the parameter of the cottage last night. He had also shown me the theory behind the device that sent the power of lightning to the charges."

"Olmsted was already on to the basic theory of gun powder, so I thought I'd help out before he blew himself up. Now that Olmsted's figured it out, he's promised me he'll quit fooling around with gunpowder. It's something best left alone."

I agreed. It was a dangerous enough world. I shuddered to imagine what kind of mischief the dullards at the King's Wart Inn would be up if they had this gunpowder.

I walked over to the witch and her daughter. "I did not believe anyone could stand up to five Ghennison Viper mages, let alone best two."

"I would have routed the other three if your meddling brother had not interfered," Morganna snapped weakly then as if knowing she sounded too unthankful, added, "But he did well. It is a tiring chore battling mages now that I am no longer as young as I once was."

Morgana blinked in surprise at her mother's acknowledgement of a mere alchemist. I was also taken aback but was even more so by the thought that she just might have done it. The mages had been showing weariness at the end.

"Come, let us leave here before some other accursed creatures of Dorga appear," Morganna commanded.

The dwarves rushed to hug their Frost Ivory one last time and she rubbed the top of each dwarf's head as she bid them farewell. Her last words to the seven small coalminers were that they were all invited to her wedding and would be treated as guests of honor. It seemed to mollify them.