Chapter 307: Catch and Release
I didn’t approach the tree line; instead, I sank to one knee a short distance away. I pulsed my earth speak, but I was far enough away that it couldn’t reach the woods. I pulled the irate fairy out of my belt pouch, her tiny eyes full of malice toward me. She had found her fight again and was trying to chew through my gloves with her tiny teeth.
“I don’t know if you can understand me or not, but this was not my idea. I am letting you go.” Her tiny expression of hate didn’t change, so I assumed she didn’t understand.
I unwrapped her quickly, stood, and stepped back. I waved my hand, indicating she was free to leave. She looked up at me defiantly and didn’t move, probably thinking it was a trick. “Go, Tinker Bell!” I shooed her away with a different gesture. The pixie’s wings unfolded, but the damaged one fluttered oddly. She hissed at me like a snake and took to the air. She veered off immediately to the left as she tried to fly and crashed to the ground, tumbling through the grass and dirt in a tumble of tiny limbs and distressed shrieks. Of course my act of conscience would go badly.
The little fairy only needed to walk fifty yards to the trees, but instead, she tried twice more to fly and crashed both times. It was hard to watch, like watching a lame bird, so after the third crash, I moved to pick her up. As I stepped toward the pixie, a stiff, ominous breeze carried a metallic scent from the forest.
The smart thing to do would be to walk away and let the pixie make her own way to the forest. I felt something watching from inside the woods, judging me. If it was another pixie, hopefully it would read my good intentions. I took another step and knelt, holding out my hand toward the wounded pixie. The injured pixie seemed to consider my offered hand, the scowl on her face relaxing. With my other hand, a Pathfinder healing potion appeared. I was reasonably confident it would work on pixies and used my thumb to break the seal.
The foul odor of spoiled milk hung in the air. The pixie sneezed and then covered her face, as if about to wretch. She was not going to drink it. Hell, I would only drink one if I was going to die. Then, I noticed a squirrel high in the branches watching us. It might be the one we encountered when we first entered the woods, but I could not be sure. My pixie looked into the woods at the squirrel and then back to the potion, a disgusted look on her face. She came forward and reluctantly stepped onto my hand, her scowl returning.
I saw the pixie clearly and up close in the fading evening light. With her pointed ears and pale skin, she really did look like a miniature elf. Her silky red-brown hair was disheveled from her rough treatment and from crashing into the ground. She was wearing clothes woven from thin blades of dried grass. Her translucent wings shimmered, then suddenly folded behind her and seemed to disappear.
With my other hand, I slowly tilted the healing potion. Her tiny hands unenthusiastically grasped the opening as the brew spilled slowly out. She sputtered, coughed, and hissed as she tried to drink the smelly concoction. She pushed away from the vial when she had her fill and fell backward onto her rump in my hand, coughing.
I hid a smirk as I stood slowly, holding my hand up toward the woods. The fairy vomited onto my hand in one last act of revenge before her wings splayed out, and she took to the air, this time zipping around my head once and spitting at me before darting into the woods. I guess I was not going to get a thank you.
I looked for the squirrel, but it was already gone. My act of kindness done, I stepped away from the woods and started to walk back toward the road. I hadn’t walked long before I noticed two mounted orcs bolting from the woods further down the road. I quickly held up my spyglass to see which cleric and warlord they were. It was Warlord Rhuuk and Cleric Jhuarkasha. This angered me, since they had Zorana, but it looked like they would be the final pair to pass the first Trial unless someone else had snuck past us.
But were they the last ones, or were Warlord Batale and Cleric Nalgrasha still in the woods? I kept checking over my shoulder, wondering. I didn’t have to wait much longer, as the last two orcs came thundering down the road less than ten minutes later. I stepped to the side, content to let them pass.
They didn’t slow, and the warlord’s horse veered into my path. I could have made his life miserable with layered air shields, but I moved further from the road to avoid being accidentally run down. They looked at me disdainfully as they passed. I couldn’t affect the Trial outcome any more than I already had, and let the smug and haughty orcs go without taking any action.
I was over two miles down the road when Mynasha’s gray stallion caught up to me. I had missed its approach and was shocked when it arrived. Its saddle and packs were missing, but the bridle remained. I wondered if the pixies had sent the horse to me or if it had wandered to me alone. The stallion nudged me, and I understood that he wanted an apple for being so loyal.
After he consumed the delicious apple, I checked his bridle to find that it was cut in a number of places, ready to break with a hard pull. His bare back was slick like oil, even though it looked clean. The pixies had been eager to get some revenge. At least his shoes seemed in good condition and had not been tampered with.
It took some time to wipe off the invisible oil. I hoped the pixies were watching from somewhere, frustrated that their tricks hadn’t worked. I pulled out some cordage from my dimensional space and fashioned a temporary bridle, tossing the damaged one on the side of the road. I climbed onto the horse and rode bareback to the valley. I realized that I hadn’t done as good a job as I had thought in cleaning off the oil. It was a challenge to stay on the gray horse.
My thighs burned from holding myself on the gray, and I couldn’t spur him into anything more than a fast walk as night descended on us. I reached the entrance to the valley well past sunset. The orcs at the outposts looked at me, seeming amused in the light of a glowstone, probably thinking I had been ditched and was coming back in disgrace. I ignored them as I went into the valley to find out the first Trial’s results.
The stone building where we met the Elders in the morning was closed, with two Pathfinders standing guard. Rather than try to gain entry, I returned to our longhouse to see if Maveith, Glasha, Tarnasha, and Mynasha were there.
As soon as I dismounted, I healed my screaming thighs and walked the gray into the longhouse. The three clerics were around the fire with Maveith cooking something. They all looked up, and Maveith had a huge grin on his face. “You are back.” He abandoned his cooking efforts and walked over to me, embracing me. “I saw her.”
I looked irately at Glasha and Tanasha. “Maveith, you didn’t …”
Glasha grunted. “He wouldn’t sit still until he saw her. I let him see through my spell sight. Uncomfortable for both of us. They are not aware of the connection between the goliaths.”
I nodded and hoped that was the case. If they found out we were here for Zorana, it would give them leverage. “Well, good then. Thanks for coming to look for me,” I replied tersely. After Ginger got her apple reward for carrying Mynasha back, I made to rub down the gray.
“We could not leave the valley. The Choosing is still going on,” Glasha reminded me. I just grunted.
Maveith joined me and helped. He whispered loudly, “I saw Myra too. She looks defeated, Eryk. We need to save her as well.”
I nodded and I patted the big man’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We will not leave without them. They are never out of the sight of others, so I think our best course right now is to make Mynasha the Supreme. If I fail in that, we can try something more drastic.”
“Thank you. I do not doubt you are capable of changing the cleric’s fate,” Maveith intoned.
“Fate?” I asked, confused.
“The Supreme is able to decide the fate of the other candidates, according to Glasha. Otherwise, there would be too many candidates to count. It is how Tarnasha was exiled and cut off from his allies.” Maveith’s words gave some weight to this competition. It made me respect Mynasha more, knowing the cleric was betting on herself. Knowing orc honor, she wouldn’t be killed, but I suspected the new Supreme would give her undesirable tasks.
“Is Mynasha still among the candidates? Not eliminated?” I asked the orcs. They had not told me if the pixie had been successfully delivered.
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With his orcish grin splitting his face, Tarnasha happily informed me, “She is. Cleric Fioasha and Cleric Jhuarkasha were the other two successful candidates. Although Cleric Sarkasha accused Mynasha of cheating and stealing their pixie.”
“It took an hour before we convinced the Elders that even if it was Sarkasha’s pixie, it was within the rules. Some of my favorite Elders were foaming at the mouth by the end.” Tarnasha’s joy got a slight grin from me.
“How did you do it?” Mynasha asked interestedly, bringing me some of the food Maveith had prepared. “How did you steal their pixie?” she asked, more pointedly.
All three looked interested in my reply, but I ignored the three orcs’ questioning gazes. “What happened to the five pixies?”
“It is just four. They are caged in the Elders’ residence. Their wings have already been removed,” Glasha stated dismissively.
I winced at the cruel treatment, even though I knew how valuable the wings were to alchemists. I hoped they didn’t plan to exsanguinate them for their blood as well. “Well, if you win the Choosing, release them,” I said firmly, locking eyes with Mynasha.
“Pixies are a nuisance …” Mynasha started.
“She will release them if they have not been harvested,” Glasha said, interrupting Mynasha and nodding to me. I think the Chronicler understood my compassion. “Most likely, they will not go to the alchemists until after the Choosing is completed. Did you make a pact with the pixies for their freedom?” she added curiously.
“No. I just feel bad that we abducted them from their homes for a stupid contest,” I said truthfully.
“The other candidates likely killed a number of pixies,” Tarnasha said offhandedly. “The pixies will not leave the woods for vengeance, if that is what you fear. A sizable ley line runs underneath those woods. They are much weaker the further they are from it.” The horrific thought of what essence a pixie might yield to increase my own power occurred to me. I discarded the idea. They were not my enemies, and killing a sentient creature that didn’t intend me harm was malicious.
“What about the next Trial?” I asked, finishing with the horses and taking the steaming onion and potato soup from Mynasha.
“It will be announced tomorrow at midday. The Elders need time to find a proper task that only Fioasha can succeed at,” Tarnasha said sardonically.
“Will the Supreme be chosen after the next task?” I asked. The soup was salty but otherwise good. I nodded my thanks to Maveith who was distracting himself once again with stitching.
Tarnasha let out a tired sigh. “Unlikely. Most likely, they will only choose to eliminate one candidate, just in case something unforeseen happens. Then, there will be a final Trial for the seat of the Supreme. Probably something that will pit the candidates and their warlords against each other.”
I rested peacefully for a few hours, and at dawn, Mynasha was summoned alone. I recognized the warlord who came to retrieve her; it was Warlord Krage, the one who had withdrawn his support for Cleric Ottasha and whom Mynasha had rejected when he offered to be her First.
The warlord did not seem angry or smug, at least. “Only the three remaining candidates are allowed to meet with the Elders. They will be assessed on a tablet reader before the second Trial is announced,” he informed Glasha patiently for the third time.
“Her First should be allowed to accompany her!” Tarnasha barked angrily at the warlord, who just shook his head helplessly.
“I am just delivering the message,” Krage said. I suspected why they wanted to assess the candidates. The Elders didn’t want any more surprises. They were also probably trying to figure out how Mynasha had stolen the pixie. As long as they didn’t try to assess me, I didn’t care.
The warlord exhaled a low, slow breath. “You have done well stirring the hornet’s nest, Mynasha. I learned last night that Cleric Nalgrasha and Sarkasha were working with Fioasha and the Elders. They planned to be the other candidates arriving with the pixies and were going to step down from consideration after the first Trial. The Choosing might have ended yesterday if they were successful. Now, there are three remaining candidates who all want to assume the Supreme’s mantle.”
That news shocked my three clerics, and they began to interrogate Warlord Krage for more information. He didn’t know much, but the thirty-plus warlords in the valley talked to each other as they awaited the new Supreme’s coronation.
Eventually, Mynasha was escorted to the Elders by the warlord. I did note that he studied me for a time. Probably trying to figure out what I had that he didn’t. From experience, I knew it was never fun being the last one picked on the playground. Glasha and Tarnasha were anxious while they waited. I tuned out their conversation. To distract myself, I cleaned up the open stalls and walked the horses outside to water them.
This farce of a Choosing should be over soon enough, and I needed to start planning how to abduct Zorana. From what I had overheard, it was clear that the Elders were not going to allow Mynasha to ascend to the Supreme’s seat.
It was well past midday when Mynasha returned. She looked a little haggard. We all sat around the fire while she talked. “They tested us on a tablet reader, and then we were asked to demonstrate our spell forms for them. I was the only one tested so thoroughly that I drained my aether core.” That got an angry glare from Glasha.
“When do they announce the second Trial?” Glasha asked, steel in her voice.
“Tonight. At sunset. It will likely begin right after they announce it,” she replied tiredly.
Glasha hissed, “You won’t have time to recover! Foulness! I hope a lustful ogre invades their beds tonight!” I had to listen to the orcs lament the unfairness of it all, but what did they really expect? From what I had seen, this was how orc politics worked.
When we led the horses to the Elders’ central stone building, dozens of tattooed orcs and clerics formed a ring around the six Elders. I had missed the announcement of the first Trial, so I assumed it had looked similar to this. Warlord Rhuuk stood next to Cleric Jhuarkasha, facing the Elders in the large circle. We joined them, and soon, Cleric Fioasha and Warlord Etus joined us, completing the list of candidates.
I was surprised at how quiet it was with all these powerful warriors and clerics of the Caliphate around us. I could feel their eyes on my back. Was it respect or anticipation? After last night, they clearly knew that Cleric Fioasha was destined to lead them soon, and they were here to pay their respects and see how events played out in his favor.
I felt something brush my mind briefly, though it retreated when I focused on it. Was that one of the Elders or a cleric in the crowd? I scanned the alien faces, but there were too many. I saw curiosity, disdain, anger, and a myriad of other emotions as I met their eyes. The same Elder who had taken such joy in tricking us stepped forward. She was more reserved this evening.
“Esteemed warlords and clerics of the Caliphate!” the weathered and aged orc bellowed, her voice booming across the vast assembly with the obvious aid of magic. Her deep-set eyes scanned the gathering, ensuring that her message reached every powerful figure present. “The second Trial will rigorously test the candidates’ fortitude, intelligence, mastery of the aetheric arts, and even their diplomacy!”
A tense silence enveloped the group of formidable leaders, their expressions stoic and contemplative. The faint rustle of leather and the muffled sounds of restless horses outside the circle hung in the air. “They must climb the Spire and claim an artifact of one of the inhabitants! Only the first two candidates to return successful will be allowed in the third and final Trial of the Choosing!”
This announcement broke the silence and caused the circle to erupt into a chorus of soft, harsh whispers. The Elder wore a smug smile, probably knowing that the Elders could always dismiss whatever was brought back as counterfeit.
“What is the Spire and what lives there?” I asked quietly.
“It is a lone mountain on the northernmost point of the continent,” she whispered. “The last of the ancient storm giants live there. But the Caliphate has a pact to never disturb them. It makes no sense to upset the accord.” Judging by the confident looks on the Elders, I was sure it made perfect sense to them.
“Cleric Fioasha comes from a village at its base,” Mynasha added with realization and a little anger.
“Of course he does,” I said sarcastically. “Don’t worry, I have fought a storm giant before. Granted, I wouldn’t say the encounter went well, and I think our best option when we see one is to run as fast and far away as we can.” Mynasha gawked at me, not knowing if I was being serious.
Horses were already being led into the circle, and the others were mounting and riding away. I noted irritably that their saddlebags were bursting with supplies, so they had been forewarned of the long trek. “How far is it to this Spire?” I asked as I swung up into Ginger’s saddle.
“Four days hard ride from here. We don’t have supplies, and I have never been there myself,” Mynasha said tersely. I translated four days hard ride into two hundred miles away in my head.
Maveith parted the crowd so Glasha and Tarnasha could reach us. “Clerics and Supremes have climbed the Spire before,” Glasha said as she joined us in hushed conversation. “They sought the Titans’ wisdom. Be respectful and deferential if you meet one and they will likely not kill you.”
“Why do we have to meet them?” I asked, frowning.
“Because all the easily retrieved artifacts are long gone,” she said assertively. “I’ve reviewed the records from past expeditions myself. If the Elders made a pact with the Titans to allow only their chosen candidate to leave … you will need to be cautious.”
I had a few sarcastic retorts ready, but bit my tongue. Now wasn’t the time. “Maveith,” I said, meeting his eyes, “don’t do anything until I return.” Maveith was my biggest concern as I his anxiety was evident. He nodded slowly but I was not reassured.
“We only have enough supplies for a day,” Mynasha pointed out.
“I’ve got it handled.” I nudged Ginger forward. The crowd parted as we moved to catch the others.
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