Chapter 8
Earth Wizard of Lastrene
Lastrene was a large, well-populated city beside the sea. It was best known as the site of the great Battle of Lastrene, where the mighty armies of the Romany Empire were forced back by the united armies of the Saxon Tribes. Not long after, the city was taken by the Romany anyway, and had become a part of their empire for a time. Today, the majority of its inhabitants were involved in woodworking, and it was considered notable for its massive carved gates, built by the Romany to impress and awe the Saxons.
After rescuing the catgirl Princess Fareon and her handmaidens from the pirates of the Damned Jewel, they advised me that in the city of Lastrene there was an Earth Wizard renowned for his healing magic, who perhaps would be able to return me to my original form.
But as I walked through the massive gates towering fifty feet high, I was not feeling very optimistic.
Still, with very little trouble, I found the earth wizard’s residence. He was apparently well-known in the city of Lastrene. But the house seemed oddly quiet. The door was ajar, so I knocked on it, but there was no answer.
“Hello?” I called.
Again there was no answer, so I pushed the door open and entered.
Within, looked like it had been an office or meeting room. I say had-been, for it looked now like a disaster zone. A desk was overturned, chairs smashed, crockery shattered, papers torn and scattered about the room. The only sign of life was a poor-looking maiden who sat in the midst of the wreck and ruin. She wept, her hands pressed to her face, rocking forward and backward.
This young woman had slanted turquoise eyes and neck-length red hair coiffed in a complex style. She wore a semi-transparent dress of striped gray and green that oddly suggested geological strata.
“Excuse me,” I said. “I’m looking for the wizard?”
She shook her head, still crying. “He’s not here!” she sobbed.
I took a step toward her and sat down beside her, wrapping an arm across her shaking shoulders. “What happened?” I asked.
She wiped her eyes and sniffled. “He was taken! Taken away!” she cried. “I couldn’t- I- there was no time, I couldn’t stop them. . .” she dropped her head into her hands and wailed.
The noise was giving me a headache, so I grabbed her and forced her to look at me. “Stop your wailing!” I snapped. “Now tell me. What is you name?”
“Lucy!” she gasped.
“Hello, Lucy,” I said. “My name is Adrienne. What happened to the wizard?”
She took a deep whooping breath, then explained.
It seemed the wizard had healed the wrong person. ‘Wrong’ in this case meaning someone the local criminal boss disapproved of. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but then the wizard did it a second time. He ignored several warnings, replying that as a healer he did not pick his clients. So after several warnings, the criminal boss, one Kriminy by name, had dispatched a gang of his thugs to teach him a final lesson. They had attacked the wizard as he opened up shop this morning. They had beat him, wrecked his house, then carried him away to some dreadful fate.
When she got to that part, Lucy started wailing again.
“Quiet!” I snapped.
I paced a little, back and forth, then turned back to Lucy. “Do you know who it is who now holds the wizard?” I asked.
She nodded, then shook her head, clearly uncertain. “I know. . . perhaps,” she said. “Perhaps I know a person who knows.”
I sighed. “Then take me to them.”
They turned out to be a she: Francesca Malamud, the Madame of a whorehouse. She was taller than I, and had a very feminine figure, all curves and hollows, which was very easy to see. For she wore a tight classic black gown that was cinched with a wide belt. Her eyes were royal purple and surmounted by long, curly lashes and she had blue hair worn in a carefully-crafted style.
She looked from Lucy to me. “The wizard?” she said. “I would love to help you, ladies, as the wizard has helped my ladies out of trouble many times. But I really don’t know where he is.”
I frowned. “Then do you know who might know?”
She looked me up and down, smiling. “Maybe. Say, have you ever thought about going into the business? “ she licked her lips. “You have a perfect body for it.”
I swallowed my first reply to that. “Thank you,” I said. “But we really need to find the wizard now.”
“Pity,” she said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “You could start any time you want. You could start tonight, even,” she wound a long finger in my hair.
Beautiful? Yes, I was that. Perhaps I am a victim of vanity, but I was tall and muscular, with a head of long black hair tumbling across my shoulders. I had round breasts that stood forth proudly from my chest, wide hips and long legs. I have never lacked for male companionship, nor female companionship, if you wish it to come to that, as perhaps it seemed she did.
I reached up and removed her hand. “We must go now,” I said.
“Go where?” Madame Malamud asked, pushing herself up to me, until her breasts pressed against mine. She looked down into my eyes and her lips parted sensuously. “If you don’t know where to go?”
I glanced at Lucy, who stared back helplessly.
Francesca wrapped her arms about my shoulders and drew me close. “I may be. . . persuaded, to tell you more,” she said breathily, then leaned down toward me, her lips pursed.
I held her back with one hand planted on her chest. “Not yet,” I said, my voice a little husky. I could not help but be aware of my palm between her breasts, and the warmth of her breath on my cheek.
She hesitated. “When?”
“After we find the wizard,” I replied.
She shook her head. “A lot could happen before then. And what is a moment of time, spent here?”
“Why me?” I demanded, remporizing.
“Why not?” she countered. She removed my hand from between her breasts, and onto her breast. Then she pulled me close again, wrapping me in her arms.
“Because you don’t know me,” I whispered as the tips of our noses touched.
“I don’t like knowing anyone,” she whispered back. “Once you know someone, they turn to shit. But you don’t belong here. You are different - a stranger. You come from strange lands, bearing them with you.” She tilted her head slightly and leaned in to kiss me.
“Eh-hem!” Lucy said, clearing her throat.
We both turned to face her.
“I do hate to interrupt,” she said. “But my employer is in real danger. Why not tell me who might know where he is. Then I can go ask him while you two, er. . .” her voice trailed off.
“Fuck,” Francesca supplied.
“Yes, that,” Lucy said, ducking her head, blushing.
Francesca and I shared a glance.
“Tell us,” I urged her, raising my arms and wrapping them about her neck. “Please.”
It was a rather longer time than I meant it to be before I walked out from the whorehous. And there was a certain pleasured wobble in my step. Francesca knew many tricks from her years in the business, which had prolonged the time greatly. But then, I had taught her a few tricks, too. I had left her sleeping peacefully in her bed while I donned my tunic and gown and crept out with my boots and swordbelt.
The man to whom Francesca had directed us was said to hang out in the Busted Turkey tavern. It was a low-class establishment - certainly lower than the whorehouse. I strode in through the swinging doors and looked about the gloomy, ill-lit room. It was filled with a choice selection of low-life scum.
“Where is Kyle Walker?” I asked, stopping a serving maid to inquire.
She nodded to a man sitting back in a corner, then hurried off on her business.
I walked to the corner table and got my first look at Kyle Walker.
The former adventurer sat on a stool, the stumps of his lost legs splayed out before him. Despite that, his long sand-colored hair was well-groomed, and his tunic expensively cut. He glanced at me with shadowed eyes as I sat down opposite him. “Two beautiful ladies seeking my company in a day,” he said with a welcoming smile. “This must be my lucky day.” He was soft-spoken, with a mouth full of bright teeth.
“My friend friend said she would meet you here, and then wait for me,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, Lucy? I told her where to find the wizard and she rushed off. She told me to give you a message.”
“Where did she go?” I demanded. “And what’s the message?”
He reached into a pocket and took out a folded piece of paper that he laid on the table, but kept his fingers upon it. “I have a terrible memory,” he said, play-acting. “I’m not sure I can remember it. But I think I wrote it down somewhere. . .” he grinned at me. “I might remember where, given the right motivation.”
The leer he gave me, glancing down at my breasts, made quite clear what motivation he meant.
What was it with people in this city? Was it me, perhaps? No matter, the important thing was to get to the wizard. I sighed and leaned forward over the table, giving Kyle a good look down the front of my tunic. “I suppose you wouldn’t just take money?” I asked forlornly.
Kyle Walker shook his head. “Money I have,” he said spreading his arms wide to indicate his rich clothing. “For the rest, well. . . there aren’t many women who look twice at a man with no legs.”
I glanced around the tavern. No one seemed to pay any more attention to us than they did to anyone else, that is to say, none at all. I turned back to Kyle. “This message,” I said. “Is it urgent?”
He shrugged. “She seemed to think so.”
I walked away from the Busted Turkey, still licking away the taste of what I had done to Kyle under the table.
Not to say that I hadn’t had fun myself. The urgency of it all had only added a certain spice to the experience. But I was still glad when he was finished and I could take the message and start back on my way to find the wizard.
Kyle’s information and Lucy’s message led me to a small inn down by the docks, where Kyle said the Syndicate held significant interests.
I found that particular inn with little trouble. Nothing a good shovel couldn’t hide, anyway. The inn was called the Silver Hind, and as low-down a dirty hovel of a boarding house I have rarely seen. The portico seemed to sag under its own weight. One of the double doors was off its hinges, leaning against the doorframe, while the other hung open on one hinge, and that so rusted and corroded, it looked like the door would never close again.
Taking a deep breath, I threw my shoulders back, and strode in. But I had barely walked through the doors when two men stepped out of the shadows, clubs swinging in their hands.
I reacted instantly, leaping forward to dodge their clumsily-swung clubs. Then I whirled around and grabbed them both by the neck and slammed their heads together. They struck with a ‘clunk!' then fell bonelessly to the floor.
Stepping over their bodies, I strode into the common room. In the center of the room sat a man bound in a chair, with a gag across his mouth. And thus I got my first look at the famous wizard.
He was very thin and angular. He had long hair the color of silver and drooping eyes of gray iron that looked upon all with a sad expression, like a hound looking upon a master who confounded and confused him, but nevertheless he remained loyal. He looked like a total twerp, to be honest, but not an asshole twerp.
Unfortunately, the man standing next to him looked like a very bad twerp indeed. He stood tall and lean, and I couldn't help but compare him to a deadly scorpion. His hooded eyes were smoky gray and he had shoulder-length, turquoise hair. He wore an expensively-cut black silk tunic and smoked on a pipe. Clearly, the boss.
“What about that, eh, wizard?” he said with a wicked grin, nudging the bound man with his elbow. “You’ve got ‘em rolling in after you! What do you think of that?”
“Let him go!” I snapped, raising my sword threateningly.
The boss casually waved a hand.
“Mhmm!” a muffled cry rang out.
Glancing to the left, I saw Lucy sitting bound in a corner, rope wrapped around her torso, pinning her bound arms to her back. A hooded thug had one arm wrapped about her, his hand placed very obviously on her breast, his other holding a knife to her throat. Lucy stared wide-eyed at me over the glittering blade and the rough cloth stuffed and tied across her mouth.
I looked back at the boss. “You don’t dare have her killed,” I said. “If he kills her, then nothing can stop me from killing you.”
His gray eyes flickered with uncertainty for a moment, then his grin resurfaced. “Ah, but I have two of them!” he produced a dagger of his own and held it to the wizard’s throat. “Now drop your sword, or we’ll kill one of them!” he snapped, his tone hard.
“If I do, then you’ll have to kill all of us,” I reposted.
“No,” he said with a jaunty shake of his head. “Him, I’ll kill. You two I’ll sell to a good friend of mine with contacts down the river.” His tone turned grim again. “But if you fight me, I will kill you all.”
While he talked, a half-dozen more thugs filtered into the room and surrounded me. I glanced about at them, and made my decision. I dropped my sword.
“Very good!” the boss said with a smile, lowering his knife. “Take her!”
One thug behind me wrapped his arms around me. I held my breath waiting. if I had misjudged them...
But no, his hands drifted to my breasts, squeezing and feeling them. The others watched and grinned while their friend ‘searched’ me.
I lifted my right leg, then stabbed the heel of my boot into his foot. The thug holding me screamed and dropped his arms. I ducked to the floor, grabbed my sword, and rolled between two other thugs. I jumped to my feet before the boss. He stared, barely had time to open his mouth before I swung my sword and lopped his head off at the neck.
Before the carcass hit the floor, I turned about to face the now unemployed thugs. They all turned to face me, weapons raised, but stopped in surprise upon seeing their employer dead.
I pointed to the body with my sword. “He’s dead,” I said. “Who will pay you to die now?” I raised my sword threateningly to drive the point home.
There was a thick silence for a moment.
I took a step toward them, sword held low. “Get out!” I snapped.
One of them turned and ran.
I took another step, teeth bared.
As if on cue, the others turned and hurried out. Unwilling to let them off so easily, I leapt after them with a bloodthirsty howl, sword swinging.
By the time I returned with my sword bloody from stabbing cowardly thugs in the back, Lucy had cut her own bonds with a dropped dagger and had untied the wizard. Without waiting for explanations, we all got out of there.
“Well,” the wizard said, once we returned to his home and had I told him my story. “That is- well. . . it is not what I expected from- when meeting a beautiful lady like yourself.”
“Thank you,” I said. “For the compliment, that is. But can you change me back?”
“Let me take some measurements,” he said hurriedly. “But,” he went on more grimly. “I have to tell you that I don’t think I can. This is a powerful curse that has had time to settle into you. I will see what I can do, but I do not think that there is much I can.”
He produced a number of strange instruments that he arranged about me and others he waved over me. He peered at his instruments, scribbled a little upon a piece of parchment. He sighed, and turned to me. “I cannot finish these calculations before tomorrow; perhaps Lucy can give you a place to rest tonight.”
“All right,” I said, rising to my feet and departing.
“I’m sorry,” Lucy said after I found her. “But since the house was smashed by the mob, I have not had time to put our guest room back together.”
“All right,” I sighed. “I can find some other lodgings for the night,” A thought occred to me. “Perhaps at Francesca’s house, I’m sure there will be room.”
“Well-” Lucy said hurriedly. She hesitated. “There’s my bed.” she added a little nervously. “But you have to share it with me, if you want.” She met my gaze, then glanced away hurriedly.
I was a little startled by the invitation, but looking her over again, I found the invitation very inviting, indeed. “Well,” I said with a smile. “I think that would be very pleasant, indeed.”
Still, Lucy hesitrated, so I gently took her by the hand. She blushed, but smiled, and the two of us walked away to bed together.
The next day, after a delightful breakfast cooked by the wizard - as it turned out Lucy can’t cook -he took me into his office. It was much cleaned up from the day before, and gave me the bad news.
“I am sorry,” he said. “I cannot remove your curse; the sorcerer who employed it was far more powerful than I.”
I sighed. “Of course.”
“However, the magic that is on you seems to be of a sort that may actually protect you,” he went on.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“The curse did not simply transform you and leave you as is,” he explained. “It is literally holding you in your present shape. Should any magician seek to transform you into something else, the curse will protect you from the attempt.”
I sighed. “Well, that’s something. Thank you,” I said, then turned to go.
“Wait!” he said.
I turned back to face him.
He hung his head sorrowfully. “I wish I could repay all you have done for me. But all I can offer is to say that there are other magicians more powerful than I, who could very well be able to remove it.” He thought for a moment. “Perhaps among the Elves of Namargand,” he advised me. “They are renowned for their magik.”
“Thank you,” I said again. “I will look into it.”
Continued in Chapter 9
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