Eye of the Wizard: A Fantasy Adventure (20 page)

The girls were still arguing about beer, and the sound grated Neev's nerves. Romy lay passed out and drooling, and Jamie looked close to joining her, for she seemed determined to prove beer's magnificence by drinking more and more.

He cleared his throat. "Girls, please," he said. "Can you stop arguing about beer, and get back to the skeleton?"

He tried to keep his voice calm, but inside, Neev was worried. A skeleton? Could it be Dry Bones? Neev had never heard of any other living skeleton.

"He tried to trip me!" Jamie said, wiping suds off her mouth.

"He twied to k-kidnap me!" Cobweb said.

Romy suddenly raised her head from the table. "I like turtles!" she announced, then passed out again, banging her head against the tabletop.

Scruff had been silent so far, staring into his mug as if lost in thought. He opened his mouth, closed it, scratched his chin, then finally said, "You don't supposed it could be that Old Bones you've told us about, do you?"

"Of course I've considered that," Neev snapped. "And his name is Dry Bones, not Old Bones. But why would he try to kill us? Is he angry that I summoned Romy?"

Passed out against the tabletop, Romy stirred as if roused by the sound of her name. She mumbled in her sleep. "But all the other girls have ponies, Mommy. Can't I eat one, too?" Her mouth fell open and she began to snore.

The others stared at her for a moment, then shuddered and looked away. Scruff resumed scratching his chin. "Neev," he said, "do you remember Grobbler Battle?"

Neev raised an eyebrow. It was rare for Scruff to mention the battle; it was a night the Thistles were loathe to speak of. "Of course."

Scruff put down his mug and wiped suds off his stubble. "The warlock who led the grobblers into town. The one who murdered Dad. For years one detail about him bothered me."

"A lot of things about him bother me," Neev muttered into his drink, and Jamie nodded her approval.

"But one detail in particular has always seemed off," Scruff insisted. "It was a hot summer night, but the warlock wore a heavy cloak and hood."

"So?" Neev said. "It's summer now, and I'd wear my cloak had Romy not borrowed it. We warlocks like cloaks; it helps us look scary."

"But why did he wear
gloves
?" Scruff said. The others raised their eyebrows, and Scruff leaned back in his chair.

"I remember that, too," Jamie said. "I remember every detail about that night. I also thought it was strange. Did he want to hide his skeleton hands?" She shuddered.

Cobweb chewed her lip, then meekly leaned forward. "D-did you say dis wawwock who k-kiwwed youw dad was weading gwobbwews?" she asked, voice small and trembling. She had only a sip of beer, but already her purple cheeks were flushed crimson.

Scruff nodded.

Cobweb pursed her lips. "Da skeweton who twied to k-kidnap me today had a gwobbwew wit him."

Jamie leaped to her feet, sending her chair crashing back and knocking over three beer mugs. "Damn it, it's the same warlock!" she shouted, making such a commotion, the entire tavern stared. "We found the bastard who burned Burrfield, he's here in Queenpool, let's go kill him now." She drew Moonclaw, eyes flashing.

"Jamie, please," Neev said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We have no proof yet."

She pushed his hand away, panting, eyes wild. "What more proof do you need? It all matches. We've waited years to find this jerk, and we've got him now. Let's go find him and kill him."

"Jamie!" Neev said, raising his voice just the slightest. "Calm down. We don't know it's Dry Bones for sure. What motivation would he have to burn Burrfield, then try to kill us?"

Jamie looked ready to explode, but found no words. She stared back, silent, face red.

Scruff helped her back into her seat. "I think it has less to do with us," he said, "than with our parents. Dad called him an old friend. I remember that. They must have had some falling out, maybe even before we were born, and Dry Bones still carries some grudge against the Thistles."

"We don't know it's Dry Bones," Neev repeated, but knew he sounded unconvincing. He had to admit—the pieces did fit. It also explained why Dry Bones had expelled him. A moldman was waiting for him outside the Coven that day. If Dry Bones truly wanted to kill all Thistles, Neev's final exam made a perfect excuse. To banish Neev into a moldman ambush would be a nice, quiet way of going about it.

"Oh, you know it's Dry Bones," Jamie said with a grunt. "I can see it in your eyes. Stop being stubborn, Neev."

Neev sighed and took a deep draft of beer. "Fine," he said, slamming down his empty mug. "So Dry Bones is our villain. What do you want me to do about it?"

"Let's kill him." Jamie brandished her sword, causing Scruff and Cobweb to duck.

"Kill him how?" Neev snapped. "He's the best warlock in the kingdom, maybe the world. It would take an army to kill him."

"I can take him." Jamie growled, cheeks flushed, blade glimmering.

"No, Jamie, you can't," Neev said with a sigh. "And that's the end of that. We don't even know where he is."

Jamie opened and closed her mouth several times, lost for words, seeming ready to explode.

Scruff tapped his fingers against the tabletop. "He's going to keep hunting us, you know," he said, still scratching his stubbly chin.

"I realize that," Neev said.

"So what would you have us do?" Jamie demanded, finally finding her voice. She was so angry, that when she tried to pour herself more beer, her fingers trembled and she knocked over her mug.

"I'll tell you," Neev said, feeling more and more certain as he spoke. "We invest our new money in defense. We'll buy you and Scruff some proper armor—a pair of breastplates and helmets. I'll buy a spellbook with some good martial magic. If we find some lucrative Bully gigs, maybe we can hire a couple bodyguards for extra security. Right now we're weak. Let's grow stronger, then worry about killing Dry Bones."

"Unless he kills us first," Jamie muttered into her mug. Cobweb covered her face with her hands, and both Scruff and Neev shuddered.

Romy continued to snore blissfully.

Chapter Thirteen

The Lady Knight

Jamie couldn't sleep.

For the first time in weeks, she lay in a real bed, not on hard earth, but still she found no rest. As she lay in the dark, she kept seeing the skeleton's hand in her mind, clawing at her feet.

Jamie rolled over and looked at Cobweb, who shared her bed. The spiderling slept soundly, her face upon her hand, starlight glistening against her. The room they rented—the last vacant in the Cantankerous Clam—held two other beds. Scruff and Neev shared one (Scruff taking up most of it), sound asleep. Romy lay sprawled upon the third bed, snoring loudly, drool dripping down her chin.

What time is it?
Jamie wondered. Moving silently, she stepped out of bed and looked out the window. Orion glittered above, the warrior, her lucky stars. Beneath their glow, the city lay sleeping, dust fluttering across the cobblestones. In the distance, Jamie could see the steeples of the cathedral, a darker black against the sky.

Another day had passed. Another day of wandering the world, seeking... what? Jamie laid her hands upon the windowsill, gazing at the silent city, the cobbled streets lined with oil lanterns.
What do I seek? Surely more than the next gig, the next quick buck.
Jamie sighed. For the past five years, her goal had been clear—become a knight. When Lord Bramblebridge had crushed that goal, he tossed her life into a whirlpool, leaving her aimless, pointless.

But now she had a new goal.

I will kill Dry Bones.

She looked at the wall where hung Father's sword.
I swear to you, Dad, I will avenge your death.
Tears filled Jamie's eyes. She missed her parents so badly, her stomach ached.

Romy gave out a loud snore like a saw, startling Jamie out of her thoughts. "No, Issa, please, I'll be a good demon," Romy mumbled in her sleep and began to suck her thumb.

Gingerly, Jamie approached the demon and touched her hair of flames, expecting to pull back her fingers in pain. But Romy's hair was warm and smooth, and the flames caressed Jamie's hand.

"You're not the only one with nightmares, Romy," Jamie whispered, watching the demon sleep. She herself often dreamed of groping grobblers, a dark warlock upon Friar Hill, and a night of fire and blood.
Grobbler Battle.
That night still haunted her dreams. Scruff and Neev did not know. They thought she had forgotten. But Jamie did not forget. The fire of that battle still burned inside her.

A cat meowed outside, moving through the streets, probably seeking mice. A bat fluttered between two trees. Jamie suddenly felt like walking outside with these night creatures, silent and cold in the darkness. She would find no sleep in this bed, not until she cleared her mind.

"Floofie, are you here?" Romy mumbled, her thumb still in her mouth. "I miss you, my sweet teddy bear."

Jamie pulled on her black leggings, torn at the knees, an undershirt, and her old leather jerkin. Atop her clothes she strapped her meager armor—dusty vambraces over her forearms and greaves over her shins.
I wish I had full plate armor like the knights I saw.
She didn't even have a shield anymore; Veldor had chopped it up. She slung her sword over her back and, with a deep breath, left the room and stepped downstairs.

A few barflies were passed out in the common room, their heads on tabletops between empty mugs. Jamie stepped past them and into the city, the night air pinching her cheeks. She needed this time alone, her first time alone in weeks. The others did not understand her, not even Scruff. They could not imagine what it was like to be a girl, so young and slight, chasing an impossible dream.

Several others shared the night with her. From a bakery came the lilt of a humming baker, and the scents of breads tickled Jamie's nostrils. From the distant cathedral—charcoal spires that blocked the stars—flowed the chant of monks. A yawning girl stumbled down the cobbled road, a cloak wrapped around her, pushing a cart of apples. And yet, despite these few night souls, the city seemed eerily silent and still.
Somewhere out here, in one of these houses, Dry Bones waits,
Jamie knew, glad for the weight of her sword over her back.

She found that her feet led her toward the city square, where the fair had taken place. The square, packed with thousands only hours ago, now lay barren like a crater. The light of oil lanterns glittered against the cobblestones. A disheveled child, maybe a beggar, was walking a mutt. An old man hummed in a corner, shucking oysters. Otherwise the place was deserted.

Jamie walked toward where she had defeated Sir Veldor, winning the sword championship. The stage was still there, and Jamie stepped onto it, examining the floor.
Solid wood.
Yet somehow the skeleton had grabbed her, tried to kill her.
Dry Bones,
Jamie knew.

"You did well today," came a voice.

Jamie started, drawing Moonclaw with a hiss and glint. She stared around frantically, then blew out a shaky breath.

"I didn't see you," she said in relief, sheathing Moonclaw.

Below the stage stood the white knight, the warrior whom Veldor had defeated before fighting Jamie. He still wore full plate armor, his face hidden behind his helmet's visor. The light of the lanterns glistened against his armor, making him look like some glittering god of steel. His sword hung at his waist, and he held a shield emblazoned with a boar.

"I know how to remain silent," said the white knight, stepping onto the stage to stand before Jamie. "It is a skill I had to learn early." His voice was muffled inside his helmet, echoing.

Jamie nodded, though she did not understand. "You did well, too," she said. "Veldor is a tough bastard, and you lasted long against him." She smiled. "You tired him out for me."

The white knight snorted. "I performed poorly. Thirty years ago, I would have defeated him with two blows. But that was a long time ago, when I was about your age." The knight laughed, his laughter echoing inside his helmet. "You remind me of a young me, Jamie Thistle of Burrfield. I was much like you, two or three decades ago."

Jamie bit her lip. "But... I'm a girl." She mussed her hair. "Don't let my boy hair or clothes fool you. I just pretend to be male."

The white knight opened his visor—her visor!—revealing startling gray eyes, a woman's soft mouth, and long brown hair streaked with white. "Why do you think I wear this armor?" she said.

Jamie gasped, nearly falling over. "Are you... the Great Lenore? The warrior woman?" Her heart thumped and she could barely breathe.

The white knight snorted. "I was great once, years ago. These days... I'm just Lenore."

Jamie couldn't help herself. She ran forward and hugged the older woman. "You are my heroine!" she breathed, tears in her eyes. "I spent countless hours in Burrfield's library reading about you. I know all about how you disguised yourself as a boy, were knighted, went on to slay dragons." She trembled. "I've always dreamed to be like you."

Lenore smiled and patted Jamie's head with her gauntleted hand. "You disguise yourself as a boy to be knighted, too?"

Jamie lowered her head. "I did, but my lord found out that I'm a girl. He kicked me out of town."

Lenore laughed, and for an instant, rage filled Jamie.
How dare she mock my tragedy?
And yet... Jamie found the laughter contagious. Her anger fled, and she too laughed. "I guess it is a little funny," she said.

Lenore smiled. "Jamie, let me tell you something I've learned, something you must know. You can fight as a knight, slaying dragons, a heroine. You can fight for past glory, to reclaim old days of legend. You can fight as a mercenary, a hired thug always looking for the next gig. But what I've learned is...."

Lenore's voice died off, and she frowned, tensing.

"What is it?" Jamie whispered.

Lenore drew her sword.

Jamie could still see no danger, but she too drew her blade. Then she felt it—a chill in the air, a ripple through her, her hackles rising.
Something is here, something scary.