To either side of Benedict were the sides of buildings, and at his back was an eight foot high wall of stone. On the other side of the wall, the alley continued on, eventually opening onto a distant thoroughfare.
At the near end of the alley, a shadow moved from the dimly lit street into the alley's deeper darkness. Brother Benedict could tell that it was the half-elf. She was taller than any half-elf he had ever seen but too gaunt for a human, and she had an odd, jerky way of moving that was quite distinctive, even in silhouette.
He watched her stop, her head turning rapidly in every direction, examining her surroundings. He found the interest that she took in all of creation quite charming. He would have thought that she could see him plainly, the darkness little hindrance to elvish eyes, but she wasn't drawing any closer, so he waved and shouted a greeting.
That got her attention. She jumped, did a brief dance (of joy, he assumed) and then rushed toward him, her arms flailing in all directions while she hissed, "Shhhhhhhhhh. Be quiet! Are you insane?!"
"No," he said with a smile. "I am quite well." This kind attention to his health pleased him. "How are you?"
As she drew closer, he could make out more detail. She looked as if a too big human frame had been jammed into the skin of an elf, with blond hair, high delicate cheekbones, gently upswept ears. She was wearing plain, dark clothing of which he approved. What he disapproved of were the weapons - a long bladed knife sheathed at one hip and a short bow, unstrung, hanging next to the quiver of arrows on her back.
"Well," she said with a trace of smugness, "I did it."
"You got it back?" he asked, excitement making his voice rise.
"Shhhhhhhhh!" she said again. "Not so loud!"
"Can I see it?" he asked, attempting to peer behind her.
"I don't have it with me!" she said irritably. "You don't steal a huge bell from a very rich man, even if he did steal it from you first, and then lug it around the streets, you know!"
He nodded. "I hadn't thought of that," he said. "So you hid it?"
"Yeah. Last night. I'll tell where to find it, then we're done."
His smile grew and blossomed into something luminous and beautiful. "You are so wonderful!" he said. "Thank you, Llewellyn!"
"Yes," she said. "I am." Then she froze. "Wh-what did you say?"
"Thank you, Llewellyn!" he repeated.
Her face paled. "How did you learn my...I mean, that's not my name!"
"Ah, such modesty!" he said happily. "I could learn much from you!"
"My name is not Llewellyn!" she said emphatically.
He waved a gently chiding finger in her direction. "Modesty will not avail you. When you so kindly volunteered to get the bell back for us, I took the trouble of finding out who you were."
"How?" Her voice was tight. He realized that he had offended her, but there are times when modesty is misplaced.
"I drew a picture of you," he said.
"You what?"
He pulled out a piece of parchment and showed it to her. On it was a likeness of her that he felt was technically quite accurate. Her features were an artist's dream, and he had worked hard to capture them.
Llewellyn snatched the parchment out of his hands and stared at it with ever widening eyes. "What have you done?" she gasped.
"Do you like it?" he asked, flattered. "Please keep it."
"Who did you show this to?" she screeched.
"Oh, anyone I could find," he said. "People I met in the streets, barkeeps, members of the City Watch."
Llewellyn gulped audibly.
"It was a City Watchman who recognized you and told me your name."
Llewellyn gulped again.
"He asked me why I wanted to know," the monk continued, "But, of course, I didn't tell him that."
Llewellyn relaxed slightly.
"I wanted to wait and see if you were successful first."
"What?!!" she shrieked.
"And now that you have been, I want everyone to know what you have done for us!"
"No!" she yelped, waving her arms. "No!"
He smiled gently at her. "Your humility does you great credit," he said, "But, by recovering the bell from those who stole it, you have done my order, perhaps all of humanity, a greater service than you know. It is only fitting that this be told!"
"I don't want it told!" Llewellyn yelped, her entire body quivering. "Not to people and not to the City Watch! Especially not to the City Watch! Did I mention the City Watch? Don't tell them! Don't tell anybody!"
With particularly neat timing, a member of the City Watch chose that moment to step into the mouth of the alley to see what all the shouting was about.
Hearing the heavy tread, Llewellyn spun rapidly around, saw the moonlight glinting off of armor and weapons and continued the turn, pirouetting in a complete circle and, in one smooth and continuous movement, using the momentum from the spin to propel her, she leaped forward and up, grabbed the top of the wall and hauled herself up and over. She could have practiced it a thousand times and never done it so neatly and gracefully as fear drove her to do it at that moment.
Benedict, overcome at the elegance of this delicate ballet, began to applaud.
Llewellyn's head appeared over the fence, bobbing up and down as she jumped repeatedly. "Shhhh!" she said in an agonized whisper. "Stop it!"
Realizing that he was embarrassing her with his praise, he stopped. Really, this woman's modesty was truly enlightening.
"Hey!" the man who had entered the alley called back over his shoulder, apparently to companions in the street, "I think it's the half-elf! The tall one!" Not satisfied that his meaning was clear enough, he added, "The thief!"
Llewellyn's head continued to appear over the wall at intervals as she bounced up and down. "It's not me!" she called to the man. Her head put in two more appearances before it occurred to her to add, "And I'm not a thief!" Her head bobbed up again, and she snapped, "Come on, come on!" at Benedict.
Benedict nodded and attempted to imitate her earlier graceful move. He spun quickly around, catching sight of several more armed men moving into the alley from the street, continued his spin and leapt forward, slamming face first into the stone wall. He bounced back and sat down hard.
"Hurry up!" Llewellyn cried. "Come on!"
Benedict jumped up and grabbed the top of the wall. Llewellyn, on one of her leaps to peer over the wall, grabbed his sleeve with one hand and entwined the fingers of the other in his hair. As Llewellyn fell back downward, Benedict, kicking and scrabbling his sandaled feet against the rough stone of the wall, was hauled upward and found himself perched on top with a magnificent view of the entire alley.
"Hold it!" one of the Watchmen called as the knot of men rushed forward.
"As you say," Benedict said, smiling gently.
With a howl of frustration, Llewellyn jumped up again, filled her hands with any part of him that she could reach, and yanked. Benedict tumbled off of the wall. Llewellyn neatly dodged his plummeting body, wincing as a bolt from a crossbow hissed through the air above her head. When they started trying to kill you, it was definitely time to leave.
She could hear a confusion of shouts and the clanging of metal on stone, and she decided that whatever was going on back there could continue just as well without her. It was unlikely that armored men would be able to climb over the wall, but she didn't want to stay around to make sure.
The only thought in her mind as she pelted out of the mouth of the alley was to avoid capture. This thought continued to occupy her as she darted across the street and whipped around a corner. It echoed through her brain as she turned two more corners in quick succession, and then she realized that, in her panic, she had forgotten the monk. She had left him alone back there in close proximity to a detachment of the City Watch, and he knew what she had done. She stopped abruptly, whirled, darted back around the corner she had just turned and then sat down very suddenly as something hard caught her solidly in the solar plexus and knocked all the air out of her body with an audible whoosh.
"I am so sorry!" Benedict said contritely, bending over her and laying a concerned hand on her shoulder. "I didn't realize that you were going to be turning around so suddenly. Are you alright?"
"It's you!" Llewellyn gasped, struggling for breath.
"I believe it is," he agreed with a nod. "Although, if one considers the theological implications of such a statement, one cannot--"
Llewellyn didn't listen to the rest of his discourse, but, when she was finally able to struggle to her feet and could speak with some semblance of normality again, he was still talking.
"You can shut up now," she told him. "Come on."
"Where are we going?" he asked, tagging patiently along behind her. "Are we going to get the bell now?"
"Not yet," Llewellyn replied. "We've got to get some help first." She paused and considered. "Lots of help."
Llewellyn was silent as she led him on a roundabout path through the streets of Farfell Down. She moved slowly but jerkily from shadow to shadow, avoiding people and well lit streets. They had been walking for nearly half and hour when Llewellyn heard an odd sound that she couldn't place. Her every nerve was strung taut, eyes and ears straining for any indication that they were being followed or that someone was waiting ahead to ambush them, so she picked the sound up immediately despite the fact that it was very faint and easily lost in the sound of the intermittent breeze sweeping the streets. It was almost like a regular and rhythmic intensification of the breeze.
These thoughts spun through her head as she stood, motionless, in the deepest patch of shadow that she could find. She had frozen at the first indication of the sound, her head swinging rapidly from side to side. At almost the last moment she thought, "Wings?" and looked back and up. The sky was velvet black, but it seemed as if a piece of it was falling, streaking toward her face, almost more imagined than seen, but Llewellyn had a good imagination.
Shrieking, she dropped to the street. With a loud rasping noise the thing blew past her prone form. Llewellyn hugged the street, quivering, her face pressed into the cobbles and her arms covering the back of the head, and then she realized what a tempting target she must make and jerked herself to her feet. Her hand brushed the wall and felt several freshly cut parallel lines in the stone. She shrieked again and took off running, Benedict hard on her heels.
"Did you see that?" Llewellyn asked.
"Not very well," Benedict replied, slightly breathlessly. "It was too dark." There was a brief pause, and then he added, "It's black, kind of like a bat, with tiny bright eyes and claws on the tip of each wing."
"How do you know that?" Llewellyn asked. "I thought you said you didn't see it?"
Benedict's hand jutted out past her shoulder, finger extended, pointing down the street. The creature, clearly visible in a stream of moonlight that was falling through a rent in the clouds, was streaking straight toward them.
With a howl of utter terror, Llewellyn dived forward. She felt the skin on her arms tearing as she slid across the uneven cobbles, and she felt the breeze of the bat-thing passing over her prone form. Benedict tossed himself haphazardly to one side and then, after the creature had passed, kindly stopped to help Llewellyn stand up. She tossed off his hand and took to her heels.
Llewellyn was almost in a blind panic, but she kept enough of her wits about her to remember her goal, and eventually they found themselves peering out of the mouth of a side street at a house. The were both gasping for breath, drinking in great draughts of air, their sides heaving and their faces plastered with sweat. There was no sign of the creature that had attacked them.
Llewellyn examined the house carefully, looking up and down the street and searching the shadows for any sign of company. She and Dana had been friends more than long enough for the City Watch to be aware of it.
Satisfied that no one was waiting, Llewellyn led Benedict across the street and up to the door, her heart beginning to slow as she knocked. Dana would help her. Dana had always managed to get her out of these little scrapes in the past, and she was certain that Dana would be able to do it this time.
The door opened, and the sound which issued from Llewellyn's mouth could only be described as a whimper.
Behind her, Benedict scratched his head. "Dana," he said thoughtfully, "Is an odd name for a male dwarf."
"That's not Dana!" Llewellyn snapped.
"Ho, short elf!" the dwarf said in greeting.
Kalan," Llewellyn said, grimacing as if she didn't care for the taste of the word in her mouth.
Benedict reached up to tap Llewellyn on the shoulder.
"What?!" she snapped.
"You aren't short," he observed.
"I know that!" She glowered at Kalan. "Where's Dana?"
"Dana not is here," the dwarf told her.
Then why," Benedict asked, "did he called you short?"
"What do you mean?!" Llewellyn said, panic rising in her breast again.
Kalan looked around and then repeated his statement, speaking very slowly and adding gestures as one must when attempting to communicate with either an idiot or an elf.
"Kalan means that Dana...not...is...here."
"Why," Benedict asked again, "did he say that you were short?"
"Not did," Kalan told the monk.
"Where is she?!" Llewellyn asked tightly.
"You did," Benedict said. "I heard you."
Kalan shrugged at Llewellyn. "Out of town. Will be back in two weeks, maybe three. Kalan is using house while Dana not is here."
Llewellyn moaned and then began to smack her head against the doorpost.
Thunk.
"Um..." Benedict said.
Thunk.
"Not did say that short elf was short," Kalan explained to the monk. Thunk "Said was short elf."
Thunk.
"Um..." Benedict said again.
Thunk.
"Not is full elf," Kalan clarified. Thunk. "Is short elf."
Thunk.
"Oh," Benedict said, enlightened. Thunk. "I understand now." Thunk. "Um...Ma'am?" Thunk. "Llewellyn?" Thunk. He tapped Llewellyn on the shoulder. She stopped with her head against the doorpost and rolled her eyes back to look at him.
"What?" she asked.
"Why are you doing that? Doesn't it hurt?"
"Not as much as it's going to hurt when the City Watch gets hold of me," she told him. "Which it will."
"What is problem?" Kalan asked. "Perhaps Kalan can help."
Llewellyn's eyes rolled in his direction. Help from a dwarf? From Kalan? Well, there were worse things in life than spending time with dwarves. Like spending it in jail.
"There was a robbery this evening," she told him.
He nodded.
"The City Watch seems to think that I had something to do with it," she added.
Kalan nodded again.
"So they're after me. I....don't really want to meet up with them right now, and the best way to prevent that is to get him," she indicated Benedict with her eyes, "and...some property of his...out of town."
"Not is unusual situation for short elf," Kalan observed.
Llewellyn regarded him sourly. "I don't know why every time any little thing disappears around here, people automatically think I had something to do with it. It isn't as if I'm a thief or anything!"
Kalan simply nodded. Long experience of Llewellyn had taught him not to argue that particular point with her. "Short elf must leave city for time."
"No," she corrected him. "Not me. There are plenty of places here for me to hide." She pointed at Benedict. "He's the one who has to leave."
"Excuse me," Benedict said politely. "But I can't leave the city yet."
"No," Llewellyn said with a groan, "of course you can't. I might have guessed."
She straightened and looked up and down the street. Kalan, like most dwarves, was loud. Very loud. Not to mention poorly dressed. And annoying. But mostly, right now anyway, loud, and there are things that should not be shouted up and down the street when the City Watch is nosing around trying to make trouble for innocent people. And then there was that bat-thing or whatever it was...
"Come on," she snapped at Benedict and shoved her way past Kalan and into the house.
Kalan shut the door behind them and followed Llewellyn into a comfortable sitting room. He watched as the short elf visited a table in the corner of the room, shaking his head as she chose wine over ale. But, after all, elf blood will tell.
Llewellyn, with a full goblet in her hand, took a seat as far as possible from the windows, if you can call perching one's body tensely on the edge of a chair taking a seat.
Benedict examined the well appointed room with a look of amazement and disapproval on his face, then he took a seat on an overstuffed chair, placing his body gingerly down on it as if he was afraid it was going to snatch him and he needed to be ready to throw himself to the floor instantly to escape its luxurious clutches.
Kalan shook his head as he picked up a mug of ale. The short elf and a pudgy, gangly human who apparently didn't know how to use a chair. You could never tell what Farfell Down would deposit at your door.
Llewellyn drained her glass and refilled it, then she glared at Benedict. "All right," she said. "Let's have it."
"Have what?" he asked, confused.
"I can tell you where to find your stupid bell. All we have to do is get it and get you out of the city and everything will be fine, so what's the problem?"
"Oh," Benedict said, enlightenment flooding his face. "I see. Well, as you know, I was sent from the monastery to bring the bell to Farfell Down. We had heard that there was a man here who could fix it for us."
"What was bell made of?" Kalan asked.
"Um...some sort of...metal...stuff," Benedict said uncertainly.
"Some kind of alloy," Llewellyn said. "Overlaid with gold and an admixture of adamantine and a metal that I didn't recognize. Above that, it's circled with twelve diamonds, clear cut, about fifteen carats each. There is also a setting on one side of four emeralds, about twenty carats each, arranged around a central emblem inlaid of fine-spun platinum wire, knotted in the manner of Kilsaareth, though more likely to have been done by one of his students than by the artist himself."
"Ah..." Kalan said.
"Not," Llewellyn added hastily, "That I've seen it or anything, you understand." She waved one hand vaguely. "I just...you know...heard about it somewhere."
"Yes," Kalan said. "What was wrong with bell?" he asked, getting to the only part of the story so far that actually interested him.
Benedict shrugged. "I don't know. It has to be rung each day as the last rays of the setting sun hit the bell tower, of course, and everything was fine until one day it didn't ring. Brother Claritas, who's in charge of ringing the bell, came down and told us that it wouldn't ring, no matter what he did."
"Hokay," Kalan said. "So should be easy to fix." Not all that interesting after all.
Benedict scratched his head. "Well, no," he said. "You see, the bell was in perfect working order. It just wouldn't ring."
"You," Llewellyn said, pointing at Benedict, "Are making less sense than he," pointing at Kalan, "usually does."
"Well, all the parts were there and in the right places, but when the clapper struck the side of the bell, there was no sound."
"That not does make sense," Kalan said, even though it meant expressing agreement with Llewellyn.
"Well, when spells don't go right--" Benedict started to say, but Llewellyn's shriek cut him off.
"Spells? What spells?! You didn't tell me anything about any spells!"
"Well, the spell that was on the bell, of course."
Llewellyn darted toward him, her arms waving spasmodically in all directions. "There was a spell on it?" she yelled at him. "Why didn't tell me?!"
"I didn't know it was important," Benedict said. "I'm sorry. And, anyway, I assumed you knew. How would it work if it wasn't magic?"
"Lots of bells work just fine without magic!" Llewellyn told him.
"Lots of bells ring, yes, but they don't keep the Crianthum at bay."
There was a long silence and then Llewellyn said, "Don't tell me about it. I don't want to know."
"Kalan wants to know," the dwarf interposed.
"No, you don't!" Llewellyn snapped at him. "Nobody wants to know. Just skip over that part and keep going with the story."
"I'm sorry," Benedict said again. "I've upset you, and after you were so nice as to recover the bell for us for free."
Llewellyn was still looking at Kalan and saw the dwarf's eyes widen and his mouth open. "That's right," she said hurriedly, dropping casually back into her seat. "Absolutely for free. I didn't get a thing out of it."
"Except the virtue of service," Benedict said.
Llewellyn tried very hard to look humble. "Well, some of us are just like that, you know." She glared at Kalan. "And there isn't any need to discuss it in the present company, is there?"
Kalan laughed. "Did other things disappear from house?"
"How would I know?" Llewellyn asked. "That would be theft, and I am not a thief, and, anyway, I wasn't there."
"And people would know that human is involved with bell but not would know about short elf," Kalan continued inexorably.
"She is so modest," Benedict said happily.
"We shouldn't get distracted by irrelevancies," Llewellyn said airily. "What are we going to do now?"
"Is simple," Kalan said. "Get bell, bring to man who can fix, then monk can leave city."
"Simple," Llewellyn echoed grimly. "We only have to do it with the entire City Watch on the lookout for us."
"Oh, the bell's already been fixed," Benedict said.
"It has?" Llewellyn asked.
"Yes. I was actually on my way out of the city when it was stolen from me."
"Well, if the bell's already been fixed, then why can't you leave?"
"Well," Benedict said, "there's the Crianthum."
"We're not discussing that," Llewellyn said quickly. "I already told you."
Benedict squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "I'm sorry," he said. "But, you see, the bell hasn't been rung at sunset for days now, so the Crianthum has certainly flown out of the pit."
"I'm not listening to this!" Llewellyn said, looking rapidly around the room for something to fix her attention on.
"Kalan is listening," the dwarf said. Maybe this was going to get interesting after all.
"And I think it followed me to Farfell Down. So we need to take the bell to the highest point in town and ring it. That will send the Crianthum back."
"Ah," Kalan said. Yep. Definitely interesting. "Does sound fun."
"I am not listening to this," Llewellyn said loudly.
"That's very brave of you," Benedict told her.
"What?"
"Well, what attacked us in the street tonight must have been one of the spawn of the Crianthum, so it's got your scent."
Llewellyn's reply was a wordless moan of anguish.
"It knows you were with me, so it's probably kind of angry with you."
Llewellyn repeated the sound.
"But, don't worry," Benedict said reassuringly. "It'll probably only use your living flesh as an incubator for more spawn instead of doing something really nasty to you."
Llewellyn began to sink into her seat.
"It is not to worry," Kalan said, standing up. "Short elf will take us to bell, then all will go to Knife Spire and ring bell. Not is problem."
"Not is problem?" Llewellyn said quickly. "Not is problem?! It sure sounds like one big gigantic whale of a problem to me!" She looked at Benedict. "How many of these spawn are there?"
He shrugged apologetically. "I don't know. No one's ever counted them." He frowned. "Well, no one's ever lived long enough to finish counting them. Lots, though. And it can make more. But it should still be weak right now, though we probably shouldn't waste much time."
"It is to go, then," Kalan said.
Llewellyn glared at him. "Right now?" she asked. "In the dark? Are you insane?!"
Kalan grinned at her. "Not am," he said, though by warped elf standards he probably was. "But cannot carry bell around in daylight."
"Clearly," Llewellyn said, her voice dripping acid. "The stupid thing is too big and obvious."
"So is short elf." Kalan replied. "So choice is to go now or to give City Watch whole extra day to maybe find bell and maybe find short elf."
"Now is good," Llewellyn said quickly, leaping to her feet. "What are you waiting for? Let's get moving!"
It was only a matter of minutes before they were out the door. Kalan had taken the time to hang two large hammers on his belt, one from each hip. The short elf, he noticed, was still carrying a bow around. He'd tried to talk her into using a better weapon, but she refused. He sighed. Well, after all, it wasn't her fault that she hadn't been born a dwarf. He supposed that she was doing the best she could. As these thoughts floated through his mind, he had slipped on a harness and hung a double-edged battle axe from it so that the shaft, which had been cut down to match his height, stuck up past his right shoulder where he could get to it easily. Llewellyn had tossed on a long robe with a hood and was walking slightly hunched over to conceal her height. Benedict, unconcerned, brought up the rear with his hood down and his face exposed, beaming happily upon the darkened streets.
They encountered few other people as Kalan, following Llewellyn's whispered instructions, led them down a wandering series of side streets, and they eventually found themselves across the square from a large warehouse.
"There," Llewellyn whispered.
Kalan looked at the warehouse and then grinned broadly. "Is funny!" he said.
Llewellyn, barely making a sound above a strangled whisper, shushed him frantically. "Quiet!"
"Is funny," Kalan repeated in a hoarse whisper that was still far too loud for Llewellyn's comfort.
"What is?" Benedict asked politely.
Kalan gestured at the warehouse. "Hiding bell here."
Benedict looked around. "I don't understand," he said.
"It's a city food warehouse," Llewellyn explained. "There's grain in there stored up in case there's a food shortage."
"Yes?"
Impatiently, Llewellyn said, "There's plenty of food right now, so no one will be going in there, and there are guards stationed outside to keep people from stealing the food."
"Yes?"
Llewellyn made a sound that was practically a growl. "So members of the City Watch are guarding the bell for us, only they don't know it."
There was a long pause, and the Benedict nodded. "Oh, yes," he said finally. "Very clever."
Llewellyn closed her eyes, sighed and then said, "Come on. Follow me." She turned to glare at the others. "And be quiet!"
"Will."
"Oh, yes."
Llewellyn, carefully keeping Kalan in front of her, directed the dwarf into a narrow street which twisted a crooked and garbage strewn path around several buildings and eventually opened onto a deep ditch from which arose a pungent and utterly unpleasant aroma.
"Down there," Llewellyn said, her nose wrinkling.
"What is it?" Benedict asked, looking down at the muck uncertainly.
Llewellyn cleared her throat. "A sewage ditch," she said.
"Ah."
Kalan shrugged and jumped into the ditch. He sank ankle deep into the muck, splattering clods of unmentionable material in all directions. Llewellyn, who had barely managed to get her mouth closed in time to avoid having a very unappetizing snack, let loose a stream of invective that left Benedict standing open mouthed in amazement and blushing furiously.
Meanwhile, Kalan was squelching his way through the muck. Llewellyn, realizing that he was leaving her behind, scrambled quickly but carefully down into the ditch. She looked behind to see Benedict continuing to stare at her.
"Will you come on?!" she snapped.
Benedict nodded, stepped forward, tripped, and landed heavily in the ditch, sending up a spray that soaked Llewellyn from head to foot. She stared at him for an instant and then slowly looked down at herself. Her mouth opened, but before she had a chance to say anything, a voice boomed back, "Is short elf coming?"
Llewellyn whirled, nearly falling, and yelled, "Be quiet!" Then, realizing how much noise she had just made, she slapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes rolled down to look at the filthy hand and she jerked it away from her face and began to do an odd little dance while spitting frantically and wiping her lips on the clean portion of her tunic over the inside of her elbow and spluttering, "Yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck!"
It was at that moment, the sound of their approach covered by Llewellyn's exclamations, that two of the spawn dived out of the night sky. One of them skimmed over Benedict's prone form, leaving parallel rips in the back of his robe but failing to break the skin. The other had aimed at Llewellyn but, not anticipating her sudden burst of terpsichore, missed her and slammed into Kalan's back..
The dwarf was scarcely moved by the impact but the spawn, encountering the fine-spun corslet that Kalan habitually wore beneath his tunic, flopped to the ground, stunned.
Kalan turned in time to duck under the second spawn. As he pulled out his battle-axe, he planted one foot solidly down on the spawn in the mud. The second spawn wheeled in the darkness and dived again. It was scarcely visible, black on black, and then it was highly visible, splattered with red as it met the rising blade of Kalan's axe.
Kalan spun his axe sharply and the gore slid cleanly off of the slick surface. Satisfied, he reslung the axe and turned to look at him companions. Unaware that anything had occurred, Llewellyn was still spitting and dancing and Benedict was climbing carefully to his feet. Shrugging, Kalan resumed walking.
Llewellyn was startled a moment later to hear Kalan's voice booming back to her. "Is hole!" the dwarf called in surprise.
Llewellyn froze at the noise and then ran toward Kalan, making shushing motions with her hands and ignoring the splashes of filth raised by her footsteps.
Panting, she drew to a stop underneath an overhanging bank. Kalan was staring at a mass of nettles and branches.
"Is hole," he said again, pointing, this time in a quieter voice.
"How did you know there was a hole back there?" Llewellyn asked. "You can't see it!"
"Elfs," Kalan said, more in sorrow than disgust. "Dwarf not have to see to find tunnel so poorly hidden." He pulled away the vegetation and pointed at the irregular opening that it had obscured. "If short elf want tunnel not to be found, should have dwarf conceal opening."
"Just get inside, all right?" Behind her, Llewellyn could hear Benedict approaching.
"See edge of opening here?" Kalan asked. "What short elf should have done is--"
"Just get inside the tunnel!" Llewellyn snapped, shoving Kalan, who didn't move.
" put brace here and here," he continued, "Then could build false wall which would--"
"Get...in...side...the...tunnel!" Llewellyn hissed, proving that it is possible to hiss a sentence even if it has few sibilants in it.
" conceal opening but which could be made to---"
Llewellyn balled up her fist and slammed it into Kalan's back as hard as she could. "Get inside the tunnel!!!" she shrieked.
His attention finally drawn away from the problem in construction which he had been contemplating, Kalan asked, "What?"
"I think," Benedict said politely, "that she wishes you to get inside the tunnel."
"Oh," Kalan said, stepping through the opening. His voice reverberated back to them as he added, "Should have said so."
Llewellyn managed to hold the scream of frustration in, but the look that she directed at Benedict while doing so had the monk scurrying rapidly after Kalan. Llewellyn came last, moving the vegetative shield back into place and making certain that it totally covered the opening.
Several feet inside the tunnel it was pitch dark. Llewellyn reached into a pouch at her waist and pulled out a small cloth wrapped bundle. When the cloth was peeled away, the bundle proved to contain a small stone which gave off a steady bluish light. It provided enough illumination for her and Benedict to see by. Kalan was nowhere to be found.
Llewellyn groaned. "Stupid dwarf!"
"Wh-where has he gone?" Benedict asked.
"Stupid dwarf!" Llewellyn said again, hurrying forward.
"Um...ma'am?"
"What?"
"Where is he?"
"Stupid dwarf."
"Yes, ma'am."
They hurried through the tunnel, which twisted and turned several times. Finally, rounding a last turn, Llewellyn slammed into Kalan, tripped completely over him, and ended up face down in the mud on the other side of him. "Stungid darg!" she snapped before sitting up and cleaning out her mouth.
"There is short elf," Kalan said happily. The matter of their disappearance had clearly been vexing him. "Where has been?"
"We can't see in complete darkness!" Llewellyn snapped at him. "I had to close up the opening and then get a light out."
"Kalan not can see in darkness, too."
Llewellyn climbed to her feet and ignored him.
"Then, how did you move so rapidly?" Benedict asked.
"Is tunnel sense," Kalan told him. "All dwarfs have. Not is seeing, but can find way."
"How..."
"This is not the time," Llewellyn snapped. "Can we get going, please?"
"Hokay," Kalan said.
The tunnel came to an abrupt stop against a wooden wall. Llewellyn flipped two latches and carefully pulled away a section of the wood. On the other side were piles and piles of sacks stretching away in all directions.
"Is nice," Kalan said, admiring the opening.
"Thank you," Llewellyn said smugly. "It makes a good hiding place."
She led the others around, between and sometimes over sacks to the spot where the bell was resting. Benedict ran his fingers over the surface of the bell, beamed at Llewellyn and opened his mouth, but she held up a hand to keep him quiet.
The clapper of the bell had been wrapped in cloth and then pushed against the side of the bell. The cloth ran up the outside of the bell to a loop of metal at the top, where it was tightly tied. With the clapper both muffled and immobilized, they should have no problem keeping the bell silent.
The bell was about two feet across at its widest point and perhaps two and a half feet high. It was also very heavy. Llewellyn didn't want Kalan carrying it, because his job was to fight off anyone who might choose to make themselves unpleasant, and she certainly had no intention of carrying it herself again. That left Benedict.
Llewellyn carefully sealed up her private door, and Kalan led the way out of the ditch, back into the streets of Farfell Down and toward the western edge of the city. Llewellyn, with her encyclopedic knowledge of the side streets and back lanes, tossed directions at him while looking continually upward. As if it wasn't bad enough that the City Watch was on her trail, now she had to watch for things falling out of the sky.
They had been walking for less than a quarter of an hour when Llewellyn yelped, smacked Kalan on the shoulder and dived for the street. The dwarf whirled, his hands reaching for his axe.
There were four of them this time, dropping in two pairs.
"Get bow!" Kalan called to the ball of short elf lying in the street. He swung the shaft of his axe, catching Benedict behind the leg and tripping him. The monk fell to the ground, still cradling the bell, and the two spawn which had been aiming for the back of his head passed over him. Kalan spun, the blade of his axe twinkling in the moonlight. The claws of one spawn glanced off his shoulder, ripping the tunic but not even scratching the corslet beneath. The second spawn seemed to explode as the blade of the axe met it cleanly in midflight.
The second pair was close behind the first. One of them raked Kalan's left cheek in passing. The second slammed into the flat of the axe. As it fell, Kalan smacked it with the end of the shaft. The stunned creature popped back up into the air and Kalan sliced it neatly in two, which was better than hitting it with the axe while it was lying on the cobbles, possibly dulling the blade on the stone.
Even as the pieces of the second spawn were plummeting to the ground, Kalan was spinning, locating the remaining two attackers, the first of which was already turning to make another pass. Kalan set his feet and was bracing himself to meet it when he heard a quick hissing sound. An arrow sliced past his cheek and struck the spawn, which cartwheeled crazily before slamming into the wall of a building.
Kalan grunted in satisfaction and watched as the remaining spawn began its dive and then jerked backward as an arrow struck it. Kalan glanced over his shoulder to where Llewellyn was kneeling, her head hunched down as far between her shoulders as it would go and a bow in her hands.
"Good," he said, cleaning his axe and reslinging it.
Benedict was climbing to his feet, holding the undamaged bell.
It wasn't long before they reached Knife Spire, a narrow peak of rock jutting up near the western edge of the city. Llewellyn, who was still holding her bow, craned her head slowly back and looked up at the peak in dismay. It seemed to climb almost straight up into the night, sharp and jagged, and remarkably free of guardrails or stairs.
"We have to climb that?" she gasped.
"No," Kalan said.
"Oh, good." Her relief was immense.
"Is path. Can walk up." He started to do so.
Llewellyn moaned quietly.
"Ma'am," Benedict said, tapping her on the shoulder.
Llewellyn jumped and then whirled on him, snapping, "Don't do that!"
He pointed wordlessly and Llewellyn moaned again. There was a group of ten men, heavily armed, at the end of the street, approaching rapidly.
"Let's go!" Llewellyn snapped, heading for the path. "What are we waiting for?" Then she looked up. Perched at the top of the spire was another bat-like creature, but this one was huge, easily big enough to carry an adult human in its claws. Llewellyn gaped at it.
"Is that..." she said.
"Ooh!" Benedict said happily. "The Crianthum! I've never actually seen it before!" He started up the trail.
Llewellyn looked up at the Crianthum and then back at the approaching detachment of City Watchmen, torn by indecision. Then she realized that she was in danger of being left behind and ran after her companions.
Of them all, Benedict, burdened by the weight of the bell, had the hardest time. Llewellyn, driven by fear, simply kept her eyes on her feet and walked. Kalan, who regarded this as a pleasant spring walk with a treat at the end, was scaling the spire rapidly.
They were halfway up when Kalan stopped dead and pulled his axe, grinning. Llewellyn, who had passed Benedict almost immediately, nearly walked into the blade before she noticed that Kalan had stopped. She looked up and saw what had attracted his attention. The huge creature was...well, melting. Pieces were falling off of it and streaming away into the darkness.
It took her a few seconds to realize that the pieces were moving toward her. The larger creature had merely been an amalgam of two hundred or more smaller ones, and the entire group was now descending in her direction. She would have run if Kalan's hand hadn't shot out and encircled her wrist.
"To run is to die," he told her. "Only chance is to stand and fight. Arrows now."
Llewellyn gulped, raised her bow and began to shoot as rapidly as she could fit arrows to the string.
Later, her memories of the fight were patchy and episodic. She stood behind Kalan, prudently out of reach of any backswing, and loosed arrows until she had none left, and then she threw her bow at one of the things. She remembered being delighted that a number of the creatures swept around her and attacked the detachment of the City Watch at the base of the spire. Served them right for bothering her. She remembered pulling her sword and swinging it until her arms were leaden and her shoulders ached. She remembered Kalan, his axe swinging continuously, forcing his way up the path through the swarm. She felt hits and buffets and her clothes and flesh were torn and gashed. She could still hear Benedict's scream as one of the creatures ripped at his face. Kalan darted backward between her legs and swept the creature away, then he dropped his axe at Benedict's side, snatched up the bell, put his head down and plowed forward.
A cloud of the creatures descended on the dwarf, but he continued to climb doggedly, ignoring the attacks and finally reaching the top of the spire. He shook off the creatures like a wet dog shaking off droplets of water, ripped the cloth off of the bell, raised it and struck it with one of his hammers.
The note rang sweet and clear...and useless. The creatures continued to swarm.
"I have to ring it," a breathless voice said in Llewellyn's ear. Benedict, one eye swollen closed and blood streaming down his face, was standing so close to her that she almost drove her sword through his body while swinging at one of the creatures.
Llewellyn was exhausted, and her arm muscles were twitching. She had been punctuating her swings with wordless cries, but now she screamed Benedict's message to Kalan.
The dwarf, fighting off a swarming, tearing cloud, hammered a spike into the stone and hung the bell on it, then he dived and rolled down the path in a tight ball. When he stood up, Llewellyn was appalled at the state he was in. The corslet had kept him alive, but his face, arms and hands were a mass of blood and torn flesh. Despite his wounds, his eyes were bright and he was grinning. He grabbed Benedict and began to hustle him up the path. Llewellyn kept with them, swinging her sword weakly and almost uselessly now.
They were being overwhelmed, and they weren't going to make it.
In desperation, Llewellyn, literally sobbing with pain and fear, looked down the path. The detachment of the City Watch was scattering, each man being pursued by a cloud of attackers. She turned and looked up the path again. Forty or fifty of the things were swarming together, blending into a larger version of themselves, directly between the small group and the bell.
The new large creature shimmered and then was solid and took on life. It opened venomous eyes in their direction, gave forth a weird ululating cry and dived.
As the creature swooped toward her, Llewellyn sank to the ground, her sword dropping from fingers too weary to hold it any longer. Kalan threw a hammer at the oncoming creature which swerved, easily dodging the missile. As soon as the hammer left his hand, Kalan grabbed Benedict and rushed forward. As the creature swerved, it gave Kalan a clean line of sight to the bell, and he thrust his whole body forward and threw Benedict with every ounce of strength left in his muscles.
As the hapless monk flew past the creature, it swiped at him, but it was barely too far away to reach him, and Benedict, flying past the creature, struck the bell squarely with his head.
As the sweet sound rose up into the air, the creature cried out and then faded away, as did each of the individual spawn which hadn't joined into the creation of the larger beast.
Benedict was a little dazed and didn't remember much until he found himself outside the city walls the next morning. Kalan had smuggled him and the bell out in a wagon filled with grain.
Llewellyn, as he would have expected from one so modest, had not come to see him off, obviously afraid that she would be embarrassed by his gratitude. It was truly a kind providence, he reflected, that had led him to such a spiritual woman.
Bio:"I am a college biology teacher living in the southeastern US with my wife, one dog, and one cat, which is plenty of cats but several dogs too few. All in all, I think the universe is a lot sillier than we can possibly imagine, which won't stop me from trying."
E-mail: benedet@esn.net
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