The Elfmaid's Curse (The Elfmaid Trilogy Book 1) (37 page)

            "I can't ask you to help me..."

            "Then don't! Mirel consulted the cards. If anyone other than Cat goes with you to fight Talar, we all die. The Gods don't want you to be assisted by me or any other spellcaster," she said. "I will do all I can, but only you and Cat can go to fight the wizard. Even then the outcome's not certain."

            "Why?"

            Elise threw up her arms and began pacing before the bed. "How should I know? Ask the Gods. It's their bloody war."

            "The Gods are at war?" Danica had visions of mass destruction on a scale not seen in three thousand years, when the Arisen ousted the Old Ones. Then, entire cities had been destroyed, wiped out by powerful Magicks from angry Gods and their vast human armies, leaving nothing but deep holes in the ground that had gradually filled with water. "But the Gods promised never to wage war like that again."

            "I don't think it's the same," Maeve said in her thick Tyrian accent from the door, smiling mischievously at Danica. "Tschüss! Long time no see, lover."

            Danica barely heard her. Before her, decked out in outrageous blue-lacquered Vikon armor not unlike Elise's in style, stood Maeve, Carl's impetuous cousin. Danic's former lover and partner in way too much mischief.

            At five foot three Maeve was short by any standards, much less Tyrian standards. A fact that she hated to no end. But she was one of the most vital women Danica had ever met, wild and unpredictable. Stature aside, she was shapely and quite pretty with long flame red hair and deep blue eyes. Growing up, she had many suitors, but Maeve was not a woman to be tied down by anyone. Easily bored and quick to prove to everyone that she was at least their equal no matter what the task, most men were unable to keep up with her, unwilling or, more often than not, died trying.

            Her nature and a love of anything shiny and pretty led her to thievery. No other lifestyle held the death defying intensity she needed to be happy. Danica could see the Tyrian as a thief, a mercenary, or even a charlatan Vikon witch cheating people out of their hard earned coin. But a sorceress? Impossible. Maeve barely had the discipline needed to learn the sword. She was just too action oriented and easily bored to be able to stand a life of intense study, study of books to learn new spells.

            Looking disappointed, Maeve continued. "But it's war, no doubt. The cards didn't lie." She sighed, looking off into space. "Mother Mirel is thinking the Gods, maybe, want you to prevent a war. I tend to agree, though forecasting the future isn't what I do best. Fortune telling is more a natural born talent than magic."

            "You're the sorceress?" Danica asked. "Truly? Last I saw you — "

            "Yes," Maeve interrupted, giving Danica a look that screamed SHUT UP! "It has been years since we parted ways. I have since completed my magical training."

            Danica fell back on the bed, her head spinning. What was Maeve's little game here? She was always scheming something. Her skills with weapons were at best adequate, with her only real talent being thievery. How she ever became a sorceress was beyond Danica, but it did make her more dangerous.

            Like most Tyrians she was totally full of herself and was always hatching plans to attain great wealth and glory. Unfortunately, Maeve's schemes usually went wrong due to impatience and ill-planning on her part. Danica had the sinking feeling Maeve's latest scheme might include the talisman, or Danica herself.

            Whatever Maeve's plans were, Danica had to get herself focused on the coming fight with Talar.

            "You agree with the God War theory then," Danica said, propping herself up on an elbow. "You think the Gods want me to stop a war? How...by killing Talar?"

            She shrugged. "We don't know what they want, truly. They may just want you to push him in a certain direction, maybe losing your own life in the bargain."

            "But what about the talisman? They wouldn't have given it to me if they wanted me to lose."

            Maeve hesitated, uncertainty evident in her mobile face.

            Elise spoke up. "Perhaps. Unless they wanted this Talar to have it. If you lose, he'll get the talisman."

            The thought of Talar with the talisman's power gave her gooseflesh. The black-hearted bastard would be almost invincible. Indeed, it would take an army of wizards to stop him, and wizards rarely cooperated with each other. The few exceptions were the Court Mages of most kingdoms and powerful fiefs. Yet he infighting among them was said to be frightening.

            With that kind of power Talar probably could create his own empire. An empire ruled by magic and long living wizards. What army could defeat it? Could he reestablish the ancient Tyrasillian Empire? It relied heavily on magic and armies of wizards and witches. It took the Gods to destroy them.

            "You really know how to cheer me up when I'm down," Danica said, sliding back into a prone position.

            Elise smiled. "Cheer up, my
Lady
." She and Maeve roared with laughter at Danica's startled look. "I'll do everything in my power to assist you and your exotic friend."

            "As will I," Maeve said, blue eyes a-sparkle.

            Danica just smiled weakly. Even if she succeeded and recovered her body, she had a bad feeling that her friends weren't going to let her forget this — ever. She could already hear the jokes.

            Maeve stepped closer. She grinned with wicked delight, wagging her brows.

            "So, tell us, just how did you become a girl?" she asked, eyes afire with mischief. "And tell us every sordid detail of your time as a woman."

Chapter 20

            Maeve slipped into her borrowed flat down the hall from Elise's. Snapping her fingers and pointing at an oil lamp, it immediately flared up and burned brightly. The flat was drafty and humid, doing little to brighten her mood. Pausing just inside the door, she frowned at the reception she'd received from Danica.

            At first Danica seemed surprised, which was to be expected, but then she turned all business! Gods, they were once lovers. Couldn't the "Danic" still in her at least acknowledge that fact somehow? Even a warm greeting would have sufficed.

            "He is cool towards me because I am a powerful sorceress now, and he's still just a simple mercenary," she said, lifting her chin. Then remembering that "he" was now a "she" brought a smile to her pretty oval face. "Gods, how Danic must be suffering! By the Gods, he'll never look upon women the same."

            His betrayal of her still stung. How could he have chosen her cousin over her? Then, when she confronted the two of them over it, and she and the two-timing harlot squared off with bared steel, he turned his back on both of them and began chasing some other tart.

            Maeve glanced back at the closed door wistfully. "But, Lyss damn me, I adore that bastard. I'm such a fool."

            Walking towards her bedroom, she started loosening the straps securing her Vikon armor. Once in the other room, she pulled the steel pin holding the breast cups together and shook everything off. It hit the floorboards with a metallic clatter, immediately forgotten. She spent a moment gently massaging her sore breasts, silently cursing the Vikon and their ridiculous tastes in armor and fashion. Finally, she struggled out of her embroidered thigh boots and leather breeches, and slipped into a white cotton dressing robe.

            Sitting on the edge of her narrow bed, she warily eyed the double-ringed pentacle chalked onto the floorboards in one corner. She hated dealing with demons, the devious hellions, but she had a few more questions to ask. Demons being inherently deceitful in their dealings with humans, she had to be very careful what she asked and how she asked it. Then double and triple check the answers.

            After pouring herself a glass of warm wine and downing it in one gulp, Maeve took a deep breath and knelt beside the pentacle. Blanking her mind, she visualized what she wanted and began chanting the first wards to hold the demon within the pentacle, and away from her throat. With the wards all in place, and double checked, she started on the elaborate sing-song chant that pulled the demon she wanted out of his own realm of existence and into her pentacle. His arrival was heralded by a gust of sulfurous air and vehement threats in a language she didn't understand.

            Opening her eyes, Maeve looked the three foot tall red-skinned, golden-horned demon over with a grim smile. The little monster was raging, as usual, threatening vile and hideous vengeance on her if she didn't free him immediately. She had set up wards powerful enough to hold a demon ten times his strength, so she was safe enough.

            "Oh, be quiet," she chided. "We both know you haven't the power to make good on any of your threats. I am your mistress, and must be obeyed."

            "I have already answered all your questions, barbarian!" Zagor'libongis snarled. "You are just too stupid to remember my answers!"

            "Don't you dare call me stupid, demon," Maeve warned, blue eyes burning with rage. "I am more than powerful enough to transfer you into the body of some small, helpless animal, and then torture it for years."

            Zagor'libongis hissed at her, causing Maeve to pull away involuntarily. He squealed with laughter at her cringe.

            "Bastard!" she cried, leaping to her feet.

            Drawing a simple rune in the air, Maeve spoke a Word of Power and sent a bolt into the suddenly screaming demon. With another quickly drawn rune, she chanted a short cantrip that prolonged the agony just long enough to get the demon to start begging for mercy.

            "Do not anger me again, little demon," Maeve warned through clenched teeth. "I'm known for my temper, and very quick response to any insult."

            The demon glared daggers at her a moment, then slowly bowed and asked, "How may I serve you, mistress?"

            "That's more like it," Maeve said. "I have questions about the goblin leading the urchins here in Allaria. Are there any other goblins assisting him?"

            "None, mistress."

            "Are there any other magical powers he possesses that will threaten me?"

            "Only if he lays hands on you, mistress," the demon admitted. His little black eyes twinkled with wicked delight. "Then all your wards will do you no good."

            "Yes, demon, I'm more than aware of how magic works," she said, eyes narrowing. "Now, again, his Gift is Persuasion only, right?"

            "That is true, mistress. No creature on your world can possess more than one Divine Gift."

            "And his regular magic is weaker than my own?"

            "Yes, mistress."

            "One last question," Maeve said. "Tell me about alternate escape routes out of his..."

            A knock at the door startled her. Who could it be? She grimaced thinking of the possibilities. The Vikon would want her out of their tenement now that they knew the truth. She was not a Vikon, or even a witch, but a much feared sorceress. They had to be convinced to let her stay there at least a while longer. If she was kicked out now it would ruin everything.

            Sending the demon back to the hellish realm that spawned him, she hurried into the next room.

            "Who is it?"

            "Danica."

           
Danic is coming to me! He realizes he was being rude and wants to apologize
, she thought ecstatically. Then she took on a cool demeanor.
But I won't make it easy for the callous dog.

            Opening the door, "Please come in, Danic." Then seeing Danica's surprised look, "I mean Danica. I am sorry. I haven't quite gotten used to the idea of a former lover of mine being turned into a girl, much less an elfmaid."

            Danica grunted as she entered. "No offense taken. I'm not used to being a woman."

            "With that talisman, you won't be a woman for much longer," she said. "I'll tell you true, if it wasn't your talisman I'd have taken it right away."

            "No doubt," Danica said and scowled. "That's one reason I've come here to see you."

            Outraged, "You think I'll betray you! You think I'll rob you!"

            Danica winced.

            "No. Not that," Danica said. "I'm just worried about what your plans were before I showed up. What little scheme to get rich have you brewed up, Maeve?"

            "Nothing that involves you," she said.

            "If it involves the Vikon, then it involves me," Danica said. "These people have been helping me. Many are my friends, and I won't let you swindle them or otherwise bring harm to them."

            Maeve waved her concerns aside. "Don't worry. I only need the Vikon to provide cover to get at what I truly want."

            "Which is?"

            "Gold. Goblin gold."

            "Goblin gold? Are you crazy? They'll eat you alive!"

            "I don't think so. I got it all figured out," she said. "I've found a lone goblin here in the city, and with my magic and his stolen Gift..."

            "You'll march right off to your doom," Danica said. "You can't steal a Gift like you can a mage's magic."

            "No, you're wrong, Danica. If caught and the proper ritual performed, a Gifted must bestow his or her Gift on his captor. I know the proper ritual, and now I have the magical knowledge to capture this particular Gifted One," she said. Then giving her a hard look, "Or did your mother forget to teach you Tyrian lore and legend?"

            "Leave my mother out of this," Danica said. "It's all myth, nothing more. You're risking your life on the promise of a fairy tale. Before you run off and cross spells with a goblin, think on this. Are unicorns magical? According to fairy tales they are."

            "In the olden days they were magical, back when dragons could fly and the Old Ones ruled the world," she countered. "Since unicorns were the result of Elven Magic, the Arisen Gods chose to take away their magical properties."