[Greyhawk 03] - Descent into the Depths of the Earth Read online

“Are they all magic-users?”

  “Yeah. All of them.”

  Jus rippled his finger tips along the hilt of his sword. “Should we try to bring in Enid and have her bust us out of here?”

  “Not yet.” Escalla’s antennae stayed stiff and high, testing magic currents in the air. “I need a way to get you guys clear of here before I do anything cute.”

  Heaving a frustrated, angry sigh, Escalla paced, drawing Polk and Jus down beside her. Polk had filled his moustache with hardtack crumbs. He seemed to regard Escalla with newfound awe.

  “So this is a faerie palace! A gateway to adventure!”

  “Yeah.” The girl gave a sneer. “And I’m a princess.” Polk and Jus both gave her an appraising look. Escalla angrily waved her hand. “I told you that when we first met! A faerie princess, I said! No one believes me! No one ever believes me!”

  “Can’t imagine why.” Jus scratched his head and left it at that. “All right, so what’s the story? Why are they after you? Why are we here?”

  “Well they weren’t shooting to kill, so that means they want to talk.” Escalla ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. “I hate this place! I hate these people!” She turned her face away. “Here’s the run-down. This is Clan Nightshade, my clan. They’re exiled from the Seelie Court over some crap you and I could care less about, so Clan Nightshade is a rogue. Fought their way through three different planes and ended up here, holed up on the Flanaess.” Her voice was toneless. “Faeries usually live in a sealed society—the Seelie Court. It straddles several planes of existence—very old, nine clans always stabbing one another in the back. Spawned a dark goddess once and has kept out of mortal affairs ever since.”

  She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

  “Nightshade is trouble. They are my clan, so don’t underestimate them. We learned magic the hard way.” Escalla kept her face neutral and guarded, her eyes flicking left and right for signs of scrying spells. “The Seelie Court clans are a lot more inbred, more reclusive, more formulaic.”

  Jus slowly stroked his fingers through Cinders’ hair. “But these are all faeries like you, right?”

  Escalla gave the man a sharp stare. Small, slim, and somehow sinister with her pointed ears and tilted eyes, she suddenly seemed no joking matter.

  “Clan Nightshade is personally responsible for neutralizing and imprisoning a goddess.” The girl narrowed her eyes. “You’re still thinking of elves and pixies. Don’t. Faeries are the true folk. Imagine a race of magic-using, flying creatures that can change shape and go invisible at will.” The girl bitterly pitched a piece of grass into the wind. “Elves are to faeries what skinks are to black dragons. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that just because something’s short, it can’t splay your lungs all over the grass.”

  Polk recoiled, looking Escalla indignantly up and down. “But you’re not nasty! You’ve got honor and guts and good intentions!”

  “Polk, I’m the girl who didn’t fit in and ran away.”

  She hunched over, cradling her head in her hands. The Justicar dragged Cinders over beside Escalla. Heaving a tired sigh, the little faerie reached out to scratch the hell hound’s ear.

  Cinders look after faerie.

  “Thanks, man. You’re my favorite pooch.”

  Sensing that some of the plants were clearly spies, Jus looked at Escalla as he spoke. “What happens now? Why are we here?”

  “I have a few suspicions.” Escalla’s hand tightened on Cinders’ fur. “I’m eldest daughter to the clan head. Whatever they want, it’s no good news for me.”

  “Are you in danger?”

  “Not immediately. It’s not like I broke any laws. Plus I’ve already taken down some of the clan’s best spell slingers twice today. They know I’m not quite the same little girl who ran away from home.”

  A fanfare of trumpets pealed out across the lake. An instant later, a row of brilliantly clad little creatures popped into view. They seemed to be a type of pixie—shorter than Escalla and far, far sillier, with long cricket’s legs and eyes like an insects. The creatures blew on heraldic horns then tittered with mirth as they rolled their eyes at Polk and Jus.

  “Summon come! Summon come! Come to biggie lord! Leave mortals to play game with happy grigs!”

  Sharing a look of seething annoyance with Jus, Escalla rose to her feet and said, “Grigs. I hate these guys.” The faerie planted her fists on her hips. “Now hear this! These are my blood companions. A spell cast on them is a spell cast on me.” The girl turned dire eyes on the shocked little grigs. “I mean it! Tricksie-tricksie, pay back doubles!”

  The grigs scuffled their feet and pouted.

  “Mean!”

  “Yeah, well I’m that one! Remember me? The mean lady is back again!” Escalla swatted at the little sprites, who scattered sullenly away. “Half-wit relatives! You can bet your butt they don’t have to put up with these little buggers in the real Seelie Court!”

  Peeking out of cover all around the island were a host of tiny little shapes—all pixie-like, all small, all less formidable that the pure faeries Jus had seen. Jus settled Cinders securely into place upon his helmet and looked at the forest sprites.

  “These are all related to faeries? Why so many offshoots—pixies, sprites, grigs, atomies… ?”

  “Chaos wars.” Escalla led her way through the ranks of hiding sprites. “Lotta pure bloodlines were split up. Goblinoids, giants, dragons. Faeries took the brunt of it. That’s why we turned reclusive.” The girl had reached the shore, and here a party of lean, elegant faeries awaited them. “We’re summoned. Come on. Let’s go meet the family. Keep your eyes open and your mind straight.”

  Jus and Escalla both flexed their hands, each feeling for the rings that kept them safe from charm spells.

  At the water’s edge, Escalla’s twin awaited them.

  The newcomer was pure faerie. The lean lines, the aristocratic face and air of cool intelligence instantly marked her. In shape and face, she could almost have been Escalla. A little rounder in the eyes, far, far plusher in the bosom, but as alike as two sisters had a right to be. She had dressed herself in tight white lace with a glint of silver on her hand. Escalla’s leathers looked stark and almost primitive in contrast to the other girl.

  The lace-clad figure sketched a mocking little bow and said, “Sweet sister.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” Escalla turned and jerked her thumb toward the other faerie. “Guys, this is Tielle, my little sister. A total bitch.”

  Polk doffed his cap. Jus merely gave a brief nod of his head. Turning back to her sister, Escalla stared the other girl up and down. The two females exchanged looks that dripped with pure disdain.

  “So Tielle. You porked-out.”

  “Yes. They’re called breasts.” Tielle looked at her sister with a sour laugh. “Love the outfit. Is it uncured leather, or is that smell all your own?”

  “Ha! You kiss so much butt, I’m surprised you still have any sense of smell.”

  Looming like a vast black giant above the faeries, Jus cleared his throat in a bass rumble. It brought the exchange of insults to an end as both sisters flicked a glance up at the human.

  Tielle gave a wrinkle of her nose and said, “You’re summoned to the clan council.”

  Escalla gave a sniff and replied, “Why do I give a damn?”

  “Daddy’s asking nicely. And we have visitors.” Tielle clicked her fingers to summon more faeries. Male and female spellcasters closed in to surround Escalla and her friends. Tielle’s fingers gleamed as the light fell on a tiny silver ring shaped like a spider. “Oh, you’ll like it. Mummy and Daddy have you foremost on their minds… as always.”

  Escalla sniffed at her sister and looked scathingly at the faerie warriors.

  “I’m soooo intrigued.” Escalla shrugged. “Nice ring, by the way.”

  Tielle raised a mocking smile and used her other hand to indicate a line of stepping stones that stretched into the distance. “Get moving. T
hey’re waiting.”

  At least a dozen faeries served as escorts. Escalla scowled. On a good day, she could cream almost anyone in the clan, but with her spells depleted from three combats in a single day, she no longer stood a chance. Whatever happened, Jus and Polk would catch most of the damage. Seething with hate, Escalla tried to crush the helpless feeling of being dragged back into Daddy’s house as she flew out over the lake.

  “Come on, guys. Let’s get this done.”

  The Justicar shrugged his armor into place then strode forward on his strangely quiet boots. Behind him, Polk refused to move. Instead, the teamster turned to Escalla with a vacuous smile.

  “My dear, I really don’t think this is any business for mortals.”

  Escalla planted her fists on her hips. “What?”

  “Why, I think I’ll wait here. Thank you, Escalla. Gosh, but the weather is nice!”

  Turning her dire gaze upon the faeries, Escalla snarled. “Oh ha ha ha. You blitzed an idiot with a charm spell.”

  Something flickered in the air. A charm spell shot from a faerie toward the Justicar and shattered on the shield thrown up by the man’s magic ring. Cinders hissed, Jus jerked his head around, and the hell hound’s red eyes focused on an invisible shape lurking behind a tree.

  There!

  Escalla threw up a hand and shoved a single spell toward the hidden faerie. A reeking cloud enveloped the culprit, sending him reeling and retching off into the bushes. Escalla watched the faerie go, unshipped her ice wand, and noisily pumped the activation slide. “What did I tell you about my friends? Try it again, and I’ll get nasty!”

  Grinning happily, Cinders wagged his tail. Burn!

  “Not yet!” Escalla looked at the stepping stones. “Cinders, some of the stepping stones are illusions. Just keep your eyes open.”

  Looking bored with it all, Tielle hovered over the surface of the lake and said, “None of them are illusions. We have better things to do with our time.”

  “Good. Then let the Justicar carry you and hold you tight.”

  Tielle looked annoyed. She made a pass with her hand, and half of the stepping stones disappeared, leaving only blank water in their place. Escalla flew out to lead the way, hovering protectively close to the Justicar.

  “Polk, come on. Follow me.”

  “Why yes. What a lovely suggestion!” Polk beamed vacuously, his voice vapid and formal. “May I just say how pert you look today?”

  “Polk, spell or no spell, nobody ever uses pert in normal conversation, all right?”

  Jus jumped and strode awkwardly from stepping stone to stepping stone, his heavy bulk strangely graceful, his armor and sword quiet through long habit of stealth. Polk bumbled along in his wake, leaving his mule staring forlornly after them. Escalla flew along in silence, flanked by a dozen faeries and refusing to so much as even glance at her sister.

  In the deep waters of the lake fish swam—giant cuttlefish and little stingrays, all faeries shapeshifted into animal form. In the trees overhead, animals watched the travelers, each creature showing intelligent faerie eyes. Watched from a dozen directions, Jus, Polk, and Escalla made their way across the lake toward a giant garden that glimmered with bright flowers.

  At the shore stood a circular grove of gnarled, ancient fruit trees. Escalla jerked her thumb at the fruit trees as Jus passed them by.

  “Plane trees.”

  The Justicar turned. “Plain trees?”

  “No, plane trees—like a tree of the various planes of existence.” Escalla shrugged. “That grove leads off to other planes—primal energy, negative energy, fire, water, that sort of thing. You need a key taken from the plane you’re heading to—amazingly useless.”

  The garden made a ring of light about a faerie palace, an airy thing all made from pearl-gray wood. A long path led toward the palace doors. Beside the path, a lawn hosted a dainty party attended by a dozen faerie folk. The faeries mingled, gossiped, and intrigued. Fawn and satyr servitors poured drinks, while animated plants played music upon lutes. A bevy of female orcs knelt servilely about a faerie lord who was wreathed in fiery robes. All conversation stopped, and all eyes turned as Escalla marched out from the trees.

  A faun approached and bowed, ushering Escalla along the path. Escalla waited for Jus and Polk, keeping them at her side. Surrounded by guards and stared at by faeries and servants alike, the three companions walked slowly through the party and headed for the palace doors.

  The silence was nerve wracking and irritating. Whirling, Escalla turned to face her peers.

  “Yes, it’s me! I’m back! You all seen enough? And you? And you?” The girl pivoted in mid air, tugging her skirt tight.

  Escalla sped forward in anger, shoving past two beautifully liveried centaurs and throwing open the palace doors. A vast hall stretched before her, a place of moving murals and carpets that shifted shape and form. A hundred faeries lined the way, most of them dressed in brilliant, alien finery. There were guards dressed in bright red mail and faerie dragons fluttering through the rafters eating flower arrangements. Escalla took one look at the crowds and sagged back toward the ground.

  “Oh bugger.”

  Tielle whirred forward to whisper to a scowling major domo. Faerie maids in exotic fashions eyed Jus and whispered sourly behind their fans.

  Escalla pulled in close to the ranger and whispered quickly in his ear, “This is not Clan Nightshade! This is way more than Clan Nightshade!” The girl suddenly spied a slim, hypochondriacal faerie surrounded by rings of courtiers. “Oh futz. It’s the Erlking!”

  Jus pulled at his nose and asked, “The who?”

  “Oberon! Hen-pecked consort to the queen bitch herself!” Escalla quickly looked for avenues of escape. “I think this is the Seelie Court!”

  Turning, Jus regarded his friend. “Escalla, just what exactly did you do when you left here?”

  Escalla managed to look both annoyed and evasive all at once. “Well I may have requisitioned more than I was strictly allowed to.” The girl waved her hands in outrage. “Hey! Faeries don’t age, man! So letting your kids know they have an inheritance is unfair. So I just prematurely requisitioned what was mine.”

  Jus regarded her with leveled brows. “You stole daddy’s wallet and ran away from home?”

  “There was more to it than that! You had to be there!”

  Polk beamed good will at the whole universe. “Why, it seems to be a splendid place! Why ever did you leave?”

  Cinders flattened his ears, scowling at the fripperies and gave a growl. Illusions. Old magic. The dog almost sneezed in disgust. No fun here. All spells.

  Escalla applauded. “Thank you, pooch! Polk, we’ll have a little shared lesson on mind/body phenomenology later on, if we’re all alive.”

  “But it’s so pretty!”

  Escalla glared. “Polk, say, ‘I am an idiot.’”

  “I am an idiot.”

  “Great! Now shut up and enjoy your charm spell before I make you take off your pants!”

  Jus looked disapprovingly about the room. It was pure luxury and opulence, and much of it pure illusion designed to stroke the senses. Dour and spartan, Jus was the antithesis of the entire faerie way of life. Faeries kept well away, staring at the mortals as though they carried a disease.

  Tielle emerged from the crowds and looked her sister up and down. “They want to see you. Do you care to dress properly first?”

  “Just tell me why I’m here.”

  “Oh no! Little surprises are always such fun.” Tielle gave a nasty smile. “This way to daddy-kins. Hop hop! And do tell your mortals not to scuff the rugs.”

  Today Jus’ boots had trampled through muddy streets, forest streams and dirt, and he could not care less about the rug. Escalla girded herself and flew through the parting crowds, finally finding herself confronting her mother, her father, and a host of unfamiliar faces.

  Her father turned. Powerful and solid—for a faerie—his poise was somehow similar to the Justicar. His hair
was long and steel gray, his beard pointed, and his eyes sparked the same green fire as his daughter. He took one look at Escalla, split his face into a rough smile and crushed Escalla in his arms.

  “Honey blossom!”

  He wrestled the girl from side to side, making her eyes bulge. With a great bass roar of a laugh, the lord of Clan Nightshade hugged Escalla for all that she was worth.

  Trapped in her fathers arms, Escalla struggled upward until she could catch Jus’ eye. “Guys, this is my dad.”

  Overjoyed, Escalla’s father ruffled the girl’s hair. “And this, this is my Silly Scellie!”

  Cinders sniggered, thump-thump-thumping with his tail. Silly Scellie!

  Jus looked amused, and Escalla spiked him with a snarl.

  “Just keep laughing, Evelyn.” Escalla gave a long suffering sigh. “Gang, this is Charn, Lord Nightshade, my father. Daddy, this is Polk, a transport consultant; Cinders, a sentient hell hound skin; and here”—the girl cast a look longing for help toward Jus—“is my friend, the Justicar.”

  Big, solid, and rough cut out of pure honesty, the Justicar bowed to Escalla’s father. The faeries scarcely came up to his knees, but he managed to bow toward them with vast dignity.

  “My Lord Charn.”

  “Capital! Capital to meet you!” Escalla’s father took one daughter under each arm—Escalla suffering patiently, and Tielle coldly smiling. “So you are the ones who have served my daughter so loyally while she roamed in the worthless wilds!”

  “They’re not servants, dad.”

  “Of course not, dear!” The man gave his girl a shake. “But she’s home! She has returned to home and duty at last.”

  A silken movement came from the crowds. Escalla’s mother appeared, cool as ice and regarding her prodigal daughter much as she might regard an insect specimen.

  “Escalla.”

  “Mother.”

  “You decided not to dress.” Escalla’s mother took a drink from a tray proffered by one of the scantily clad orc servants. “No matter. For our purposes, nothing could be better.”

  “Purposes?” Escalla’s voice lowered the temperature of the entire hall. “Someone tried to kill my friends this morning, then some imbecile tried bribing me with candy and flowers.” The girl ignored her father and faced her mother. “Do tell me all about your little purposes.”