Of Tails, Curses and Kings

1

 

Yperian

 

“I heard your expedition yesterday bore fruit,” Yperian said, pouring the mythics some drinks, as had seemed to become custom during their many meetings.

He noticed, once again, that Emony was being very careful with his chalice – unusually so. He hated spilling good wine as much as the next man, but it still struck him as odd. Aylard had reported to him earlier that the man was ghastly afraid of being wet, too. It was strange – and likely due to his true nature. Seeing him handle the silver without care made him suspect he was not a werewolf or sorcerer, as he’d initially suspected. He was likely something else… Of course, he wouldn’t reveal anything related to the matter to anyone. For some reason, it struck him that no good would come from doing so.

“The merchant is dead,” Emony said. “He was killed and taken by the men of the lake. He’s one of them now. Unless, for whatever reason, he decided to fake his own death and run.”

The lamia turned to look at him through her jeweled mask, the vipers on her head hissing quietly, while Emony busied himself with tying a new bandage around her stomach. Yperian saw that her wound had already mostly healed – startlingly quickly. The man’s broken arm, unfortunately, had not.

Perhaps he really is human, Yperian thought. But he doubted it.

“That’s not it. It was human blood, I could tell from the smell,” said Tiphaine, raising her arms to make things easier on her companion.

Yperian leaned back into his chair. “I assumed that’s what happened, anyway. A shame. Anyway, my man Aylard tells me you’re searching for a girl, one that likely died in the rebellion ten years ago. May I ask why?”

“She’s involved,” said Emony, tying a knot.

“How?”

The snake looked down towards her friend. “Should we tell him?”

He shrugged. “Maybe not everything, but… why not?”

“So, um… This girl, Imarah, she’s connected to the men of the lake. If we find her, and we bring her to them, we might be able to end all the bloodshed.”

“Provided she’s alive?”

“I… don’t know. But even if she’s not, we still need to find her and bring her here. Yes, even if she’s dead. It’s the only thing that matters – if we do that, the men of the lake might stop attacking.”

Yperian leaned forward and laid his chin on his hands, thinking.

“I cannot possibly see why. But I suppose the reason is simple: magic. A set of forces and rules I couldn’t possibly understand. I will not ask you to explain. So, this merchant of yours, the one that died, he was the lead that might have led you to the girl? Aylard said it was his carriage that the knights used to cart around the dead ten years ago, and that she may have ended up on it. I happen to know that quite a few of the knights involved in the coup were from Terrena. I’m even acquainted with some of them. I’ll send a few men to ask them about the matter, but it would perhaps be easier if I knew more about the merchant than just his name. It has been ten years.”

“I doubt it, but maybe these will help,” said Emony, taking some pieces of parchment from a pocket in his jacket. Come to think of it, Yperian couldn’t imagine where the man could have gotten yet another set of clothing. At this point, he looked downright regal. But… that wasn’t important. Was it?

“They’re letters, one of which Garrick wrote himself. It seems the man was literate.”

“Not terribly unusual, for a merchant.”

Tiphaine leaned in close to Emony. “Do you really think it’s for Lenah? The one we know?”

“You know what she’s like. It may well be. Maybe not, though, there was a silver ring tied to the letter.”

“A silver one? Lenah would’ve hated that. Let me see it. Oh, but it’s so pretty!”

“Then keep it.”

“Seriously? Thanks! I’ll treasure it forever.”

“You better, or Garrick’s ghost will come after you.”

“The Bank of Trouwts… I believe that business is in Levara. Oh, right, you’re foreigners. It’s a small town southwest of here. About as far away as Terrena, though in a different direction. Not many go there, there are lots of swamps in that corner of the kingdom. It’s plagued by diseases, more so than by bandits. The perfect place for a brave merchant, though, come to think of it. And this… a love letter? For the lady…? The king’s royal advisor? No, never mind, it can’t be. Hm, it’s not half bad. I like the double meaning here. But Gull’s Landing… that is somewhat closer to here than Levara. More of a village, similar to Coldbarrow. It’s to the northeast – by the frozen sea. That’s the ocean, you know. Only that, that far north the ice never truly melts. It’s too risky for a ship to go there.”

“Not further north…” grumbled the cold-blooded Tiphaine.

“Northeast – is it close to Palehome?” asked Emony.

He needed a map, Yperian realized. He was relying far too much on his shabby memory. Still… “I don’t think so, not really. I suppose you could go to Palehome on your way to Gull’s Landing if you wanted to, but you would have to take a detour. A rather pointless one, even for a merchant – the savages of Palehome don’t speak our language or use our currency. Speaking plainly, that’s the rear end of Evaria.”

Emony seemed to gaze at him uneasily. “Is there already snow up there?” he asked.

“I would imagine so. Palehome is up on a mountain, so they must have snow all year round.”

The man and the lamia shared a look. Yperian wished he knew the context behind it.

“Bummer. Well, what about Gull’s Landing?”

“No snow there yet. There will be soon, mind you – but not yet. An envoy coming from there passed through Coldbarrow on his way to Terrena, only two weeks ago. He said that the climate was refreshing, whatever that means. It’s a much more commonly travelled path than that to Palehome, if you’re looking to visit.”

“I think we’re going to have to,” said Emony. It seemed he wasn’t going to spare his cold-blooded friend any suffering. “On the off-chance that’s the Lenah we know, we could use her help, and if it’s not, perhaps it was someone who was close to the dead guy. Sorry, Tiphaine. After that, if we don’t find anything, we can go to Levara.”

“As if it’s not cold enough here,” the lamia grumbled.

“We’ll need some more warm clothing,” Emony told Yperian.

“Understood,” he nodded, not dissatisfied in the least. Their leaving would be a welcome respite for the villagers, if nothing else. “We’ll pack you some provisions, then. In the meantime, I’ll send a few of my men to Terrena, and have them ask those knights about the merchant. Perhaps I could have them ask King Raynardt, too. He’s quite intent on having this situation resolved quickly, and my reports up until now have brought nothing but bad news. If this would help end the threat of the undead, he would be glad to help. And even if he knows nothing, we could at least petition him to send us more men.”

“Thank you. That sounds good. Well then, please point us in the direction of Gull’s Landing tomorrow. We’ll leave at dawn.”

 

2

 

Emony

 

By the sides of the dirt road that was their path, three days’ walk from Coldbarrow, two beanpoles were driven into the ground. Each held a sign pointing in a separate direction – one, depicting a crudely drawn picture of a bird, pointed directly along the road they were already following, apparently to Gull’s Landing. The other pointed towards a path that wasn’t there, in a direction where no carriage had left its mark on the frosty dirt. A snowflake drawn in red was on that sign.

They chose to follow the road.

“So that’s the way out of Evaria,” said Aylard, leaning out of his saddle and glancing in the direction of the mountain range. “Doesn’t seem like there’s much of a world out there. The commander told me about a settlement out in those hills, but I forget the name.”

Emony shrugged his shoulders and kept walking. “I’m sure they’re civilized folk.”

“Ha! Far from it! I used to hear stories as a child, actually, of barbarians raiding in the night, burning down villages for the fun of it. Not that I take them at face value now, but no food can grow out of the permafrost, so I suppose stealing must be the only viable way of life up there.”

“Or hunting,” said Tiphaine, slithering a little too close to the horse and madly scaring it with her hair. Immediately, the beast tried to throw Aylard off of itself.

“Divines! Calm down, Starling!” the human shouted at the animal carrying both him and all their supplies, holding the reigns with all his might. Tiphaine winced and moved further away from them.

Emony, looking over her for a moment, tossed her his coat. She was cold-blooded, after all. Startled, she didn’t manage to catch it, but she did put it on after lifting her mask over her lips and mouthing a silent “thank you” with a smile. Emony noticed she was still wearing that dead man’s silver ring.

Sentimental idiot, he thought, returning the smile.

“So, what are we looking for in Gull’s Landing? Cod?” asked Aylard.

“A woman named Lenah. If we’re unlucky, she might just be an insufferable, immortal old witch with hair Tiphaine is jealous of. We need her alive.”

“Hey! That’s not true! I love my hair-vipers.”

She really did. She’d once told him they reminded her of home. Of her mom.

Her mom, huh… Emony looked ahead uneasily.

The human next to him, Aylard, expressed confusion. “Well, I don’t see why we would go all this way to kill her. What do you mean, “immortal”? In any case, she’s not the girl from the rebellion?”

“No.”

“You’re not going to tell me anything? I only mean to help,” he said.

“You’re being very helpful,” Tiphaine called, keeping her distance from him and the horse.

Emony, wondering again if he was being too paranoid before making a decision, made a mental note to really become a mermaid once during the trip so he could ask Aylard if he was a duplicitous fraud. Better to do it sooner rather than later. And he’d been so happy to keep his legs and sane mind for a whole day.

“Perhaps we could ask those people if they know her? They seem to be coming from Gull’s Landing,” Aylard asked, pointing at a group of travelers moving along the road in their direction.

Emony stopped for a moment, considering it. What if they were his friends and coconspirators? No, that was ridiculous, he was just being paranoid. Aylard had done them no harm.

Yet, he thought, remembering the source of his paranoia.

“Go, then,” he said, though distrust was still filling his mind. “Remember, Lenah of Gull’s Landing. And if they ask, it’s Garrick, a merchant from Coldbarrow, that’s asking.”

“Right.” Aylard pressed his heels against the horse’s chest and galloped ahead of them. Emony, an uneasy expression on his face, went and joined Tiphaine.

“It must be annoying, trying to ask the locals for anything with me around,” she said. “I wonder if that is the appropriate reaction to my kind – to keep your distance, and cower in fear.”

He shrugged, eyeing the hissing snakes on her head. He had long ago stopped fearing them in the slightest. Currently, they had gotten all tangled up and were fighting each other to find out who could stand tallest above her. He wondered if they could recognize him after seeing him so many times.

“Sure, it is,” he replied. “For years, I’ve been soiling myself every time I look at you, Tiphaine, if I’m going to be honest. It’s been terribly difficult trying to hide it.”

She chuckled. He looked back towards the humans ahead of them.

“But if you’d like, I’ll slaughter every one of those cowards over there for making you feel this way. My broken arm is no obstacle at all.”

“Emony…”

“Don’t worry, I’m just joking. Actually, I’m not. Just say the word. Hm? What is that idiot doing? … Ah. I thought knights were supposed to know how to ride horses.”

“Aylard’s not a knight, he’s a commoner.”

“Whatever you say. I can’t be bothered to learn the difference. You’ve been talking to him a lot these past few days.”

“Shouldn’t I have? Are you getting jealous?”

“I wonder… Maybe I am. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Nope. Not at all – but I can tell that’s not what’s really troubling you. Emony, I know something’s up, what is it?”

“My paranoia is acting up again,” he lied, skillfully, by revealing a lesser truth.

“I noticed,” Tiphaine sighed. “But it wasn’t Aylard back then, all those years ago. You know that, don’t you? It wasn’t any of the humans we’ve met here.”

“That’s the thing – I don’t know that. Not for sure. I can’t remember the faces from back then. I don’t even know how many humans there were. It would have had to have been a lot, to best two purebred werewolves…”

He glanced over in the direction of where Palehome must have been for a few moments before returning his gaze to her.

“But I trust you. If you say it wasn’t this one specific commoner, I’ll believe you.”

“It wasn’t. I promise he had nothing to do with it.”

“You have no way at all of knowing that, but okay. Fine, I’ll try to play nice.”

“Great. Now, then, if you wouldn’t mind, I’m freezing. Furs and coats can only help the cold-blooded so much. Give me a hug, doggy?”

Emony smiled and gently pulled off her cold metal mask, before reaching under her furs and coats and wrapping both arms, broken and not, around her.

“Don’t think I don’t know you’re playing me,” he said. “You can’t win – you know how much I hate the sound of your laugh. It’s always accompanied by misfortune for me.”

“Not every time,” Tiphaine murmured into his ear, leaning her head on his shoulder. She really was cold.

“Really? Do you remember that time – urgh, never mind. He’s coming back. Close your eyes.”

Far too soon for Emony’s liking, Aylard came riding back towards them. As he came close, Emony noticed the discomfort on his face.

“What is it?” he asked, not letting go of Tiphaine. “Is she dead?”

The human shook his head. “No, but she really is a witch. A sorceress.”

“Damn. What a pain, it really is her. Poor Garrick – horrible taste in women.”

“She’s your friend, Emony,” Tiphaine said.

“Absolutely. My best friend – and matchmaker.”

Tiphaine giggled by the side of his head.

“Actually, speaking of matchmaking,” Aylard continued, “these merchants I just talked to said the witch has a great deal of suiters. The men seem to love her. This despite her being – entirely in the open – as a witch.”

“She must be giving them that love potion,” Tiphaine laughed.

Terrible memories surfaced in Emony’s mind.

Aylard continued: “They say she’s staying with an envoy from Terrena, the very man sent from the capital to deal with her. They have a cottage on the outskirts of town.”

“Surely, she couldn’t have poisoned the whole town? Tiphaine would kill her out of jealousy if she were that popular.”

At that, a mass of hair-vipers began coiling in front of his face, angrily hissing at him. He couldn’t even swat them away; he was too busy sharing his body heat.

“Well, now that you mention it, they only mentioned the men liking her. And I know from experience that the women of Gull’s Landing are the jealous type. Perhaps we should hurry, before they kill her.”

Emony smiled. “Don’t you try to help them, Tiphaine. You said it yourself; she is our friend.”

In response to his taunt, her vipers messed up his hair as she threateningly ran the edge of a poisonous fang along his shoulder. But there was still a day’s worth of walking ahead, and she needed warmth. He won.

 

3

 

“That snake-thing stays away,” repeated the town guard, staring at the three of them with his spear pointed in their direction. “Are you deaf? Monsters are not allowed here. How many times must I repeat myself?”

“A few more times, apparently,” stated Emony, annoyed. “But it won’t make a difference – she’s coming with us. It’s cold out here even for me, and I have warm blood in my veins.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing – but a dead monster can only ever be the opposite.”

Emony glanced over at Tiphaine for a moment and shrugged before taking a step closer to the human. “I’m done playing nice. Are you feeling witty?”

Tiphaine quickly grabbed him again and held him back. The town guard stared at them in disgust.

“We have a letter of intent and pass from the knight commander of the Coldbarrow field legion!” shouted Aylard. “You must let us into the village, to not do so would be to break the law!”

“Law, you say,” the man huffed. “That applies to humans. And I’ll be daft if I ever call that thing one of us! It stays outside – lucky I don’t kill it, as the laws I know demand! It can slither over to Palehome if it wants, those fiends can take it in. We’ve got enough problems already with the king’s damned witch! Now go on, monster! Scram!”

They had wasted too much time already. Aylard was reaching for his coin pouch, preparing option number two. Emony had rapidly become disgusted by option number two. He jumped straight to number three instead, opting for the most personally satisfying solution.

Quickly retrieving his unbroken hand from Tiphaine’s, he grabbed Aylard’s sword from its scabbard and leaped forward, reaching with it for the guard’s neck before the fool could react. But as soon as it collided, instead of slicing through, the blade stopped and crashed off the human, ringing Emony’s arm like a bell.

“Argh!” he shouted in pain, the vibrations reverberating through his arm. “What the—”

He glared at the human. He was suddenly grayer than the dull clouds in the sky. Only a small piece had been chipped out of his stone neck.

“Tiphaine!” he hissed, whirling around.

“Don’t look! Nor you, Aylard! I didn’t want him dead, okay? Be angry if you want, Emony, but I didn’t! Okay, now you can look.”

“You would have killed him,” gasped Aylard, staring at Emony, patting his waist, unable to locate his weapon. “We could have worked something out, or gone around him… But you would have killed him! He’s a human being!”

“And I’m not! So I don’t care!” he shouted, shoving the sword back towards him.

He stalked over to Tiphaine, staring angrily at her golden mask for a few moments before redirecting his anger towards the stone man again.

He leaned in close so his two companions wouldn’t hear his words. “That snake you just called a monster gave you another chance at life right now, fool. But don’t worry. There is no need to feel grateful. As soon as she tries to sneak away from me to free you, I will be there again to end you.”

He toppled over the statue into the dirt and glared back at his two companions. “Come on. Let’s get moving.”

 

Lenah’s house in Gull’s Landing was a large one, easily twice the size of the one she had in Aeliah. He could see smoke rising from the stone chimney, and colored glass windows allowing light inside. A metal door stood, baring their way, closed and locked. They had been knocking on it for ten minutes, standing around in the cold, before the footsteps Emony heard inside finally deigned to come open it. Typical.

“What do’ y wan?” asked the man who opened the door, however, a tall, somewhat fat human with crumbs on his face and messy hands, with no shirt shielding him from the cold. The smell of some sort of smoke was strong on his breath – and that was gray, as if it were coming out of a chimney. Emony suddenly found his foul mood abating, turning to pity.

What has she done to him?

“Good tidings to you, sir,” said Aylard politely, taking the lead, while he opted to stand behind him and hide Tiphaine from the man’s line of sight. “We beg your pardon, we’ve come to speak to the lady Lenah.”

“Lady? That’s rich,” Emony snorted.

“Not herrrre,” the man said, swaying and leaning onto the door to close it. Aylard stepped forward and prevented him from doing so.

“May we ask where she is? We’ve been assured that she lived in a cottage on the outskirts of town. Have we come to the wrong place?”

“No, this is definitely the right place,” said Tiphaine, eyeing the troubled human.

The man raised his head toward the sky, seemingly confused. He squinted with his bloodshot eyes. His pupils covered nearly the entirety of his eyes.

“I don’t think it’s that love potion of hers, Tiphaine. It looks worse. Divines, she managed to make something worse.”

“No. It can’t be worse than the love potion. No way.”

“Not here. There’s…. nobody here. Nobody real. Listennn… Come back in the… in the morning, okay? Come in the morning. You’re not here, either, anyway.”

“It’s… already noon,” Emony replied.

“Oh?” The man suddenly looked like he was going to hurl. “Oh… Oh, then come back… back in the evening.”

“Urgh, damned witch.” Rolling his eyes, Emony stepped past Tiphaine and Aylard and brushed past the man, entering the house. While the poor sod weakly protested, struggling to speak coherently, he took in the scene – and the heavy smell of smoke clinging to the dim, thick air. A table in the middle of the large room was covered with washcloths soaked in wine, tipped-over jugs and goblets, messy plates, fancy cutlery and wax candles dripping onto the floor, where shattered pieces of glass were littered around, all over the room. Smoke was rising in many small quantities from rolled-up leaves lying around on toppled chairs.

It was definitely the Lenah he knew that lived there. He grimaced. After turning him into a fish, she’d gone and had a party.

Emony looked back towards the human at the door, who was nearly tripping over himself trying to stand straight. Tiphaine, of all people, was helping keep him steady, he couldn’t even see clearly enough to panic at the sight of her.

He shrugged, a small hint of sympathy touching his heart. His experience had been very different, but the man’s plight was not entirely unknown to him. Lenah’s potions were always something else.

He strode over to the table, took a goblet and poured a drink. The wine smelled good, but he knew better than to ingest it.

With Aylard behind him, Emony strode further into the house. Beside countless wooden chalices lying on the floor and more of those rolled-up, smoking leaves was a small, expensive-looking woman’s shoe – but only one.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he should keep going, but he could still see Tiphaine patting the human on the back, watching him puke in front of her, and Aylard gazing uncomfortably at him, silently pleading with him to get further away from the two of them. He didn’t want vomit on his clothes, either, so, shrugging, he continued forward.

The room split into two halls, one going left, the other right. Behind the corner on the left, he saw the second shoe, draped on a coat hanger next to a door, along with a long, ornate black gown.

Emony, glancing over at Aylard for a moment to let him know he was to be quiet, silently opened the door and peered inside before shutting it just as stealthily. She was in there.

He knocked on the door gently. “Lenah? It’s me. Are you decent?”

“Yes, come in, Pauron,” answered her sleepy voice.

He opened the door and stepped into the bedroom, walking over broken glass and littered clothes. “I’m not Pauron. The human is vomiting outside with Tiphaine. And you said you were decent.”

A young, pale and freckled face, with ocean-blue eyes and lips, rose from the bedcovers, a stream of hair of the same hue following behind it.

“Oh, hi, Emony! I lied. Is that drink for me?”

Emony sighed and brought it over to her. He’d have thought she’d had too much already, but given she could talk, she was sober enough, unlike her newest lover.

“My lover?” she spat suddenly, looking at him in disgust, throwing off her blanket and revealing more of her nudity. She looked pretty stunning. “Absolutely not. Not that one. Pauron’s just a court advisor. And a prude. Please, just hand over the wine. Thank you. Now clean up your thoughts, Emony, you’ve already got Tiphaine. And you too, man-hiding-behind-the-doorway.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re not exactly making it easy for us. Aylard, just remember she’s a good century older than she looks.”

“Rude,” Lenah growled.

“You can—”

“Read your thoughts? Yes, yes. But I can see you’ve already heard that I’m a witch, so why are you surprised? What are you guys doing here, anyway? Oh, Emony, you haven’t managed to fix that yet? Was Verena not able to… Oh. Oh. Oh, my bad. So that’s where all the black magic is coming from? Looks like I dropped you in the middle of something. That must be the first time you’ve ever had your arm broken, right? Let me play with it later. Hey, what’s your name, in the doorway?”

“Ay—”

“Right. Aylard. So, Aylard stays in the dark, is that right, Emony? But you know I love gossiping. My silence has a price and I will collect. And I want to see Tiphaine.”

The annoying witch scrambled out of the bed, long silk robes materializing out of nothing around her body as she stood up straight. While he watched, her blue hair brushed itself around her neck and jewels appeared out of nowhere over her new plunging neckline.

She drank deep from the goblet he’d brought her before abruptly throwing it away, walking over to him and invading his personal space with a hint of amusement in her eyes.

“Haha, it’s not working, is it, Emony? Go on, try remembering how old I am. You know, Tiphaine would be devastated if she could hear you right now.”

He shrugged. Tiphaine couldn’t blame him for his thoughts, he couldn’t control them. And Lenah was clearly being provocative.

“But will she see it that way? Why don’t we find out? Tiphaine, come here! You have no idea what Emony is thinking about right now!”

Emony slammed his unbroken hand into the wall a few inches in front of her, blocking her from leaving before she could skip past him. Lenah only started giggling as she turned to face him again.

“Well, in that case, we’ll have to find another way to have fun.”

 

4

 

Though he’d seen it many times before, it was still unnerving, watching the room clean itself up, after the mess that it was in merely minutes earlier. The wooden chalices flew across the air of their own volition, landing on a table that cleaned itself up, the spilled wine lifting itself off the latter and floating out the window. Wax unstuck itself from the wooden floor and rejoined candles that lit themselves while the ashes in the fireplace regained the color and shape of logs and burst into a raging hot flame.

Two chairs materialized behind Emony and Aylard. Tiphaine, obviously, did not need one, as she was already warming herself on the floor by the fire.

While he and the human sat down, Lenah sat down on the edge of the table in front of them, rolling up a leaf and setting a drop of black liquid on it lightly aflame.

“Where did the guy from before go?” Emony asked Tiphaine.

“Look up,” answered the witch, watching the smoke waft from the leaf she was holding.

Emony did as she said – and there, on the ceiling, was the human, sleeping soundly on a straw bed for which gravity had reversed.

“That’s new,” he said.

“We need the space. Here,” Lenah said, offering him the leaf she was holding. “This is new, too. Breathe in the smoke.”

Obviously, he didn’t take it.

“Oh, come on, don’t trust me? This is nothing like the love potion, I promise. It’ll be fun. In fact, it will be really fun. And if you don’t do it, I won’t tell you about Garrick.”

Emony squinted at his shameless blackmailer before glancing over at his companions for a moment. “Fine, but just me. You leave them out of this.”

“Hahaha! No, that’s not how this works, doggy. We’re all going to do it. Here, if it will soothe your fears, I’ll be the first. Look, this is how you do it. Just breathe in, breathe out.”

She exhaled smoke from between her blue lips and offered him the leaf again. Sighing, Emony hesitantly took it, knowing full well something unbelievably stupid and unpleasant would happen.

He breathed in the horribly smelling air.

Instantly, a wire of magic slipped past his mental barriers and forced him to close his eyes. A strange feeling of wooziness fell over him.

Upon opening his eyes again, which he could only do with difficulty, he saw that the world had changed.

The colors were… accentuated. More vibrant than he had ever seen, even far more than when he’d been a wolf. And his hand, the one he was holding up in front of himself, holding the leaf… it was a liquid. No, he was wrong, actually, everything was a liquid. Everything in the world. His fingers melted away from his palm without pain. Seeing that, he wondered, curiously, if he was about to die. It felt like there was water in his head.

Am I drowning? This is so weird!

From seemingly far away, he heard the sound of laughter. He looked around the unfamiliar room, which had somehow expanded. Tiphaine, beside him, was staring at him, a mixture of worry and curiosity on her face. And Aylard was refusing something from Lenah – actually, her hair was even more blue than he’d thought. But he was still there, in the weird liquid room. His body was, at any rate. His mind, on the other hand, felt so far away…

He heard that laughter again. He was starting to feel giddy himself, though he couldn’t tell why. Suddenly, he felt tingling all over his hands, neck, and the back of his head.

“Strange,” he tried to say, but realized he couldn’t. His mouth was already speaking something without his knowledge, and now he’d ruined it. He’d…

Then he figured it out. That laughter. It wasn’t Tiphaine, Aylard or Lenah. It was him.

“What’s so funny?” Tiphaine asked him as he snapped back to reality for a brief moment.

You wouldn’t get it, he realized as he drifted off again. It’d be pointless to try to explain with words. But Lenah was smiling at him knowingly with those blue lips.

Do you feel the same thing? he mused, daring her to answer his unvoiced thoughts.

She gave him a small nod without a word and turned back to his companions. She could keep her composure, feeling this way? He really couldn’t understand how.

“It will be okay, I’ll give you a little less than I did him,” the witch told Tiphaine, her voice just as much a liquid as the flames of the candles. He could see her voice. Reality was so distorted. He closed his eyes, trying to center himself – and that was a mistake. All around him was darkness, endless expanses of space…

He opened his eyes again. The whole world around him was breathing. He felt numb, but his hands were tingling like they were hot and cold at the same time. The subtle colors shifting through the air… were beautiful.

Looking around, he saw Aylard and Tiphaine share a leaf by the fireplace. He hoped to the divines that she would be okay.

Lenah got up from the table. The world seemed to stretch behind her as she walked over. Then she laid down on the ground in front of him, a pile of cushions appearing under her. Suddenly, Emony’s chair disappeared out from under him and he was falling, falling, falling, until finally he too landed on a mass of cushions. Curious, he looked over at Lenah, who just smiled, then at the snakes atop Tiphaine’s head. They were as calm as… Strange. Those things never stopped hissing. But it seemed like they did.

“Hey,” Lenah said, lying in front of him, thoroughly careless about her revealing neckline. “Do you trust me yet?”

I’ve never trusted you for a day in my life, he thought happily before watching the thought fly away into the fireplace.

The witch’s blue lips curved into that smile again. “Ha, that’s probably wise. But give me your hand anyway. No, not that one. The broken one.”

After a couple of moments, he decided to do so, for the sake of the mission, whatever that was, and began struggling with his sling. Eventually, he finally managed to stretch his arm out towards her. It seemed he was immune to pain in that moment. The next, he could feel the witch’s light touch on his skin. Blue sparks sizzled out of her fingertips onto his arm. She caressed it gently before letting it go.

“There,” she said. “You know how bad I am at healing magic, but I think I’ve done it right this time. You know, I think I’m actually somewhat better when I’m using this stuff.”

He lifted his hand, curious, and made a fist a couple of times before turning his wrist and cracking his fingers a bit. It seemed like the arm really wasn’t broken anymore. Then he felt something else. A liquid, sitting right in the middle of the palm of his other hand. He glanced over at it for a moment, stupidly curious, before looking up and seeing Lenah spill a chalice of water onto it. His skin started to tingle far more intensely than it did before. Rapidly panicking, he jumped up to his feet in an instant, nearly losing balance while doing so. He was about to transform.

He heard a squeak of laughter – Lenah’s. He really did hate her. She glanced over at him and pointed in the direction of the bedroom. He ran towards it, falling over himself in the process and getting up again so he could trip his way through the door that opened itself for him. As soon as Emony made it into the room, he collapsed onto the floor in front of the bed, his boots and pants ripped apart and his legs combined into a scaly golden tail. At least her tunic held, so her tits weren’t out.

The witch followed, closing the door after herself with a wave of her hand and smiling at her.

“That’s what I wanted to see. My handiwork… I designed that new face of yours, you know. And all the rest. And I really did do well – you’re so cute! Are you sure you want to turn back? I made you the first male, surface-walking mermaid in existence. That’s pretty cool, isn’t it, Emony? Oh, but you’re not using my enchanted clothing. That didn’t hold up? Don’t worry, I’ll make more.”

“Lenah… Stop it. I’ll admit it, this smoke thing you made is pretty cool, but please make it stop and help me get dry,” Emony said, lacing magic into her voice. She was incredibly surprised that she had managed to string the words together into a sentence. “We’ve got a job to do.”

Blue sparks flew off the witch in all directions, catching the magic.

“Nah!” she laughed. “Don’t worry, Aylard won’t see anything, he’s pretty far gone himself… By the way, how do you like this new shield of mine? You can’t sing me into obeying you, Emony. As much as you might want to, what with such things crossing your vulgar mind…”

Emony gulped, trying to think about anything else, but she quickly found herself unable to think clearly enough to remember even what she was trying not to think about. Her mouth was dry and the world was spinning. That was as far as she got.

“Damned hedonistic witch. Stop smiling like that, it’s not attractive on a woman your age.”

“Evidently, it is,” Lenah shrugged, crouching in front of her and floating a chalice full of water right beside her head. Emony took it, gratefully, and drank from it.

Lenah twirled her fingers and a wind picked up, suddenly lifting her off the wooden floor, moving her backwards and dropping her on the bed. The witch walked over and sat down next to her.

“So, what do you want me to tell you about first? About Garrick? About how he adores me? Or about how Tiphaine, and how she feels about you? It’s the same story, really.”

She heard Tiphaine laughing hysterically in the other room. That was a nice sound.

“Garrick is dead,” Emony replied to Lenah, wondering why her face looked like a gently breathing… she lost the thought.

“Oh. That’s too bad. Hey, you’re pretty far gone, Emony. You can’t even string two thoughts together. Normally, I’d let the party continue, but I suppose we do have a few errands to run, don’t we? The king of the lake wants to destroy Palehome, hm? And you were counting on me... I’m sorry, Emony. I’ve been sensing the black magic all the way from here, it’s stronger than anything I’ve ever seen. This is going to be bigger than a few little villages. Those people are goners. Oh, and I’m sorry I dropped you and Tiphaine right in the middle of it all. The ley lines only showed me Verena. I’m glad you’re still alive. I was just about to go over and rescue you two.”

“It’s fine. As it turns out, Verena introduced us to someone that can help me with my little mermaid problem. Maybe even with Tiphaine’s Eyes – apparently, he’s just that powerful. It’s a shame he’s a mass murderer, but nobody’s perfect.”

Lenah took a deep breath and sighed, flicking her wrist. The water that kept Emony a fish flew away from her, and she regained her/his human form. A nearby closet burst open and a pair of pants launched themselves at him.

“Yes, I can see what you’ve been up to. Look, I’m going to help you, Emony, it’s time I started doing my job. But I have to try to minimize the human death toll. If you really mean to take the side of the king… I hope we don’t end up on opposite sides of this. Anyway, we haven’t yet, so let’s play nice and rejoin those two. I’ll help you get sober. By the way, it’s been four hours. Your sense of time is way off. Don’t try running anywhere, okay? It won’t end well.”

 

5

 

Tiphaine

 

She spotted Emony and Lenah coming back as she was lying on the floor beside Aylard, gazing at the man sleeping on the ceiling and laughing.

To her, it looked like the man’s liquid and breathing face was dripping onto the floor, but at the same time somehow coming back so that it never ran out. For a while, she was scared that it was really happening – they were at Lenah’s house, after all, but it turned out it probably wasn’t, as Aylard was seeing something completely different.

She heard a crash.

“Oh, divines. Sorry,” said Emony, who’d tripped over her tail. Slowly, he managed to get up and sit down at the table next to their witchy friend. She noticed he wasn’t wearing his sling anymore, and he had a new set of clothes on. It looked like Lenah had been busy with him.

“Now, what was the spell…” the witch murmured, looking for something on the table. Tiphaine could barely hear her, but she could tell they were going to talk about something important. Eventually, she got sick of being left out and joined them, even leaving the fireplace to do so.

“…Oh, right, that was it. Now, Emony… Be cured! Did it work? No? How about now? Be… cured! Now? Urgh. Please be cured? Now? Oh, thank the divines, finally,” Lenah grumbled as she materialized a chair for Tiphaine.

“Now, what were we going to talk about? Oh, right, Garrick. Garrick wasn’t the smartest of merchants, but he was pretty opportunistic. He often traveled to Levara. Oh, you already know that? Okay, well, he’d always come back here whenever he made enough money to spend a day or two with me – he was a pretty lonely human. No, don’t bother trying to talk out loud. I hear you. To answer your question, no. He never told me, and I never thought to look. But one time, I did notice something that might be of help to us. I thought nothing of it back then, but… He was having trouble – ah, you already know about the bank, too. Why are you even here, then? So, anyway, he’s been dealing with the Bank of Trouwts for years. He always paid off his debts, but not always on time. The bank made good money off him, but they wanted assurances before they lent him any. They wanted to know what he was doing, how he was making his returns. They had a ledger; they’d constantly write things down in it. There’s a chance there might be something useful in there.”

“Do you think the bank still has it? The information we’re looking for is ten years old.”

“They might.”

“Lenah?” Tiphaine asked, suddenly curious about something entirely different. “Right now, is it hot or cold? I can’t tell.”

“It’s pleasantly warm,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll be back with us soon, Tiphaine. Oh, don’t you be so worried. You survived, didn’t you, Emony? It looks like the effects are nearly gone from your mind, and with them, your openness and good humor. Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to tell her nothing of what we spoke about… Or what we did.”

Emony gave Lenah his murder-stare again. The witch ignored him, pointing her own gaze at Tiphaine.

“But really, Tiphaine, what we did… What Emony wanted to do…”

Tiphaine turned and stared at Emony, briefly considering taking off her veil.

“She’s lying,” he mouthed, irritated.

“Oh, but not entirely. Don’t worry about it though, Tiphaine. You were right when you were talking to Aylard that time. He really is a softy! After waiting so long, you two finally had your first kiss next to that undead king, and he messed it up! So sweet!”

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Emony hissed, murderously staring at Lenah with that wide, fake smile that creeped Tiphaine out. Still, she couldn’t help blushing, remembering that particular memory.

“So, anyway,” the witch smiled, changing the subject, “I vote that we go to the Bank of Trouwts, ask them to give us the man’s ledger. They won’t want to, obviously, but I’m sure we can persuade them. If necessary, we can bark up the wrong tree… Put them in a new and unusual situation – like fish on dry land.”

“Urgh.”

“By the way, no, I’m afraid you can’t spend the night here. You are friends, and you are right, it is late, and I would actually be glad to have you, but the thing is, I can’t stay here either. I hear a mob of angry humans coming here with pitchforks – quite a lot of women among them, come to think of it, and I don’t think I want to be here when they arrive. The king’s seal will only get me so far.”

Tiphaine looked around and listened closely. Her eyes widened. Lenah was right. A lot of people were coming.

“You really have a way with human women,” Emony grumbled. “How, by the divines, can the king’s seal not be enough to keep them from trying to kill you? Whatever, just cure Tiphaine.”

“One more healing spell, coming right up,” Lenah said, pretty blue sparks suddenly flying off her hands and sizzling through the air. They danced all over Tiphaine’s skin for a moment while the world blurred. Then, a few moments later, a sense of dull normalcy overcame her.

“Welcome back to reality,” Emony said. “Feels weird, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm. Super weird. How do I know I’m really here?”

“I couldn’t tell you. But we have to move. Get up slowly. I’ll help you.”

Lenah interrupted: “Emony, I approve of what you’re doing, but there are hundreds of angry women coming. Grab the wine and the leaves, as many as possible. Oh, and that love potion over there, in the little flask, for old time’s sake. Tiphaine, pick up your human friend. We’re leaving through the backdoor.”

Tiphaine nodded and quickly slithered over to Aylard, grabbing his waist with the end of her tail, as she once had Emony’s.

“You got him? Good. Lenah, we’re ready to go,” Emony said, his arms already full of various nefarious things.

“Good. Now, where was that…? Oh, right. There it is. Hey, before we leave, Emony, I must warn you – right now, you’re being paranoid for no reason. Aylard’s trustworthy – but that may change if he learns about Palehome. Are you sure you want to take him with us?”

Tiphaine looked at the two, not understanding. “Hm? What are you talking about? Emony, you mentioned Palehome a couple of times before… Urgh, fine, don’t tell me anything! Just come on, let’s go! They’re getting closer! Yes, we’re taking him!”

“Agreed. I trust Tiphaine. Let’s go,” Emony muttered.

“Okay. Oh, but first, put the love potion in his pocket, Emony. It’ll be really funny if he mistakes it for alcohol,” Lenah said, still not feeling rushed in the least.

“You’re a hideously evil little creature, you know that?” Emony gasped, shaking his head, though he sauntered over behind Tiphaine and did it anyway with a wide smile.

As he did so, Lenah snapped her fingers and all the furniture around them rushed to push itself against the front door. “Come on, this way,” she said.

She led them to a door on the opposite side of the hallway, beside the bedroom. Hearing the thudding of countless footsteps on the stone path outside, Tiphaine was already growing increasingly nervous – but just before she went through the door Lenah had opened for them, she remembered something: “Wait, Lenah, that guy, your friend! He’s still on the ceiling!”

“Don’t worry, they’ll find a way to get him down eventually. Come on,” Lenah said, putting her hands on Tiphaine’s back and pushing her forward.

Suddenly there was a great pounding on the door.

“To the dirt with you, witch! That love potion doesn’t… Just open the door!” a female human voice shouted outside.

“I’d really rather not,” Lenah said and ushered them all through the door.