"Up we come! Arise! Arise!"
Nothing happened. The blob blinked, Lolth frowned, and Morag sighed.
"You will need to expend actual power. The original spell was cast by the faerie Escalla."
"I am aware of that!" Lolth did it properly this time. Standing above the pink blob, she opened her hands, power arcing brilliantly between her palms. With a cry, Lolth brought her hands together in a clap. "Arise!"
Below her, the pink blob flexed and shifted.
It had been a savagely cunning combination of spells: flesh-to-stone, then stone-to-mud, and then the flesh-to-stone spell had been revoked. Tielle, Escalla's sister-murderess, schemer, and traitor to faerie-had been turned into a still-living puddle of flesh. The blob had been sealed in the dungeons of the Seelie court, awaiting the Erlking's pleasure. The goddess Lolth now sheared through Escalla's magic. There was a gasp, and Tielle lay in a ball on the ice-cold stone, her long blonde hair flowing all about her in a stream.
The faerie jerked upright-frightened, shocked, but alive. She threw out her arms in joy, staring at her reformed flesh, and then looked up at Lolth in abject wonder. She prostrated herself, only to be raised up and caressed.
Lolth stood with her head tilted impishly to one side. She gestured to Morag, who handed her a dainty drinking horn.
"Dear Tielle! The pool, I give to you. It's holy water-or reverse holy water, depending on the ingredients you add." Lolth dipped into it with the drinking horn, and the horn sucked in gallon after gallon of the water, tinging itself silver-red with the power of the pool. "Blood drives it. When you put in the life-blood of something evil, the water then burns the good! When you put in good blood, it burns the evil! The horn will allow you to carry a useful amount of the fluid-do you see? All you need to do to burn your enemies is sacrifice some worthless evil thing into the pool!"
Tielle stared at the pool, lost in shock, then looked wide-eyed at Lolth. The demon queen curled a finger sympathetically through Tielle's long, soft hair.
"Poor Tielle. Outsmarted by your sister. Chased, hounded, humiliated. Brought down before all your friends and family by Escalla. Total degradation!"
Lolth tossed Tielle the crystal ball. In it, there shone the tiny image of Escalla winging happily upon her daily chores.
"You have a pool, a horn, and a crystal ball." Lolth coiled silkily around the little faerie, resting her face to whisper in Tielle's attentive ear.
"Now, whatever will we find to talk about?"
4
The town of Keggle Bend was shockingly overcrowded. The population from dozens of outlying towns, farms, and villages had all come into the city-the only high ground in the entire region. They thronged the streets, made shantytowns in the alleyways, and huddled outside the city walls. Every government building had given up its lower floors to refugees, and every house and shop was filled with poor families.
Shouldering his way gently through the mob, the Justicar nodded. The city had made a superb effort to do justice to its citizens. The homeless were being sheltered, the poor fed. City officials led soldiers through the throng, trying to make order out of the chaos and clean away the filth that might lead to disease.
The Justicar approved. A good effort was being made. Feeling solid and calm, the man moved carefully through the crowds, opening the way for Henry who followed in his wake. The street ahead was hopelessly jammed. Jus stepped onto the stairs that led to the ramparts of the city wall. He grabbed Henry by the arm and effortlessly hauled the young man up onto the steps beside him. They stood a moment like castaways on an island watching the flotsam swirl about them, and then climbed steadily up the steps onto the battlements above.
Jus kept his hand on Henry's shoulder, steadying him. Henry had tied his untidy blond hair back from his face, and threaded cords through his mail to keep it silent. He was learning well. Jus nodded and led the boy up and away from the streets, looking out across the shale rooves of Keggle Bend.
"Crowds. Minimal danger from missiles. Maximum danger from daggers. But to do that, they have to get close. If the crowd is thick enough, they'll have trouble getting enough force to penetrate your armor." Jus's sharp, suspicious eyes flicked to check the streets and rooftops as he talked. "Deep in a packed mob, your sword blade is an impediment. The pommel is better than the blade. Draw from the scabbard and punch the hilt at an enemy's guts-hard! You can break his nose with your knee as he folds. A man with a broken nose is a man out of the fight for thirty seconds."
Henry hung on every word, his face serious. The Justicar remembered a younger self, and so he drilled information into the boy carefully and faithfully.
"Cities aren't frightening. The shapes here are angular; the shapes of enemies usually aren't. Check windows. Check roofs. Do it as you walk. Areas where light changes sharply are easy to hide in-both for you and an enemy. Always keep note of a place near you where you can defend. Always look for the nearest cover. Look for a place where you can drop out of sight, move fast, and attack from an unexpected angle."
These were the lessons that made the Justicar a lethal force. Attack with surprise; attack with absolute destructive force. Move swiftly; move decisively. Henry was a good pupil, but the boy still let violence shock him. He had not yet found the path that would let him ride it like a god.
They had reached the top ten feet of stairs. Cinders sniffed and slowly bristled up his fur. Instantly stopping to listen, the Justicar crouched with one hand on his sword.
"What is it?"
Crash-a-boom. It was getting dark, and it was hours still till sunset. Cinders jittered his tail, flattening his ears and sounding unhappy. Bad crash-a-boom.
Henry had his crossbow in his arms, watching his mentor's back. "Sir, what did he say? Crash-a-boom?"
"It's all right." Jus straightened, giving a shake of his head. "He hears a thunder storm."
"Oh." Henry looked at the agitated hell hound, which had begun leaking sulfurous steam. "Cinders is scared of storms?"
Cinders brave! Big dog! Burn!
The Justicar's scarred, stubbled face creased in a rare little smile. "When there's an S-T-O-R-M, he likes to H-I-D-E."
Cinders like storm. Cinders proudly lifted up his ears. Storm be fun! Big boom! Tree catch fire-burn, burn! The hell hound sniffed. Rainstorm bad. Wet, wet. No fire. Makes man smell like old wet sock.
Looking up past his helmet brim, Jus gave a thoughtful frown. "When did you learn to spell?"
Funny faerie teach! Cinders's grin gleamed. He was immensely pleased with himself. Cinders know S-T-O-R-M storm, W-A-L-K walk, and B-A-T-H bath!
"Remind me to thank her." Bath day for Cinders was always an experience to be endured. Escalla had just made the process a smidgen more difficult than necessary. "Why did she teach you spelling?"
Let faerie sleep naked on fur! Warm!
"Wonderful."
At the top of the city's curtain wall, guards armed with bows watched and waited. One man raised a hand in cautious welcome, wary of the Justicar's grim, forbidding presence. The big man looked as if he could easily clear the entire wall with his sword.
"Halt!" the guardsman shouted. "Garrison only. There's no housing up here."