Sitting by the town's front gate, Polk, for once, was doing just as he was told: staying put and staying out of trouble. He sat upon a table outside of a crowded tavern, waving irritably at serving boys. The tavern staff gave him a wide, wide berth, and patrons left Polk the whole table to himself. The badger squared his cap upon his head and grumbled about the falling standards of service these days.
Being a badger had mixed blessings. On one hand, he was dense, heavy, and had a bite like a crocodile. On the other hand, he was a furry quadruped most people viewed as a noxious pest or a danger to life and limb. It was this last attribute that finally brought a nine-year-old boy nervously edging up to the table bearing a large wooden bowl and a stone jug.
Polk waved a paw.
"Son! Over here, son! That's my order. It's for me-the badger. Quadruped, that is. Furry, black and white stripes. You can't miss me!"
The boy kept his distance, pushing his offering cautiously onto the tabletop. Polk scratched his ear with one hind leg.
"Son, you look frayed! A bundle of nerves, son. It ain't healthy! A boy like you needs courage! Needs discipline-some get up and go! Now what are you getting all timid for?"
"S-sorry, sir!" The child wiped his hands in fright. "We… we don't get many, um, bears here, sir."
"I'm a badger, son. Was human once, though. Reincarnation accident. Magic spell cast after I heroically sacrificed my life for my friends. Part of the risks of the hero's profession, son. I'm not ashamed of it."
"A hero?" The boy blinked. "Were you in the war?"
"Hundreds of 'em, son! But no, I'm an explorer, saver of damsels, slayer of monsters." Polk trundled over to the wooden bowl. "That's my order you got there?"
"Uh, yes. That was one full bottle of fortified skull-crusher brandy poured in a bowl?"
"That's right, son. Keeps the coat glossy!" The badger wrinkled his nose. "Can I get a twist with that?"
"S-sorry, sir."
"Don't matter. But you have to uncork the bottle, son. You have to pour. I've got claws. Great for digging, poor for pulling the cork out of jugs! And get me about a hundred bottles of this to go!"
"A hundred bottles?" The child blinked. "How will you… you carry it?"
"I've got a portable hole, son. A trans-dimensional cubbyhole rolled up to convenient size. I never leave the burrow without it!"
The drink was poured, and Polk shook his head as the boy retreated. "Child's about as bright as a lamp with no wick in it."
The badger settled down to drink a restorative libation, managing to absorb almost his own body weight in alcohol. Surfacing with a sigh, Polk licked his chops, settled back on his furry rear, and cast his eyes out over the churning, tangled crowds.
Polk paused and frowned, then used his mouth to drop coins onto the table. He jumped heavily down onto the pavement and looked around.
The skies were pitch black with something that looked like storm clouds. Polk's badger nose suddenly sniffed the stench of magic in the air. The stink of evil.
A drifting cloud of silver strands settled on the nearby roofs. Thousands of spiders-tiny spiders tailing long web strands from their tails-landed, then sped over the roofs and gutters.
Moving under tables and chairs, Polk ran into an alleyway and watched a new team of spiders descend. A group landed close to Polk. They were black widows that shimmered with magic. Black widows that stank of drow.
Drow!
Polk almost fell over himself as he tumbled backward, found his feet, and sped off to save the city.
"Son! Jus, boy! We've got a problem here!"
On the "Street of a Thousand Eateries," high prices had apparently chased away the crowds of refugees. A tall woman, her hair tied into a thousand pretty braids beneath a most extraordinary hat, teetered down the street. Walking unsteadily, staggering quickly forward to ding onto gutter pipes and walls, the woman let her hat coach her as she took one step at a time.
"Easy… easy… Left foot, right foot-left foot, right foot." Having shape-shifted into a stylish, pheasant-feathered hat, Escalla took the role of pilot, navigator, and deportment coach. "Come on-a bit of rhythm! One-two, one-two! There we go!"
Tripping over her own two feet, Enid yelped and grabbed a wall for support. Escalla had managed one of the finest shape change spells of her career, but Enid was finding life in the guise of a human a bit of a handful. Bipedal locomotion was not all that it was cracked up to be. Wobbling onward down the street, Enid held out her hands and tried to keep her balance.
"I'm not quite sure how you people manage to move around."
"You'll catch on in a bit. Now come on. There has to be a bakery somewhere in this damned town!"
Even here, in the most expensive streets of the city, the crowds were thick, though they seemed a bit more upscale than those they had encountered on their way into the city. A group of thirty monks stood in a silent ring, their heads bowed in prayer. There were families setting up tents in the alleyways and children running riot across the cobblestones. More monks stood on the street corners, collecting for the poor. The scene was total chaos, and Escalla rather liked it.
Most of the food shops were closed. The supplies had been requisitioned for the refugees. However, a few expensive luxury stores still seemed to stock an item or two. Escalla spied a pastry shop and clucked like a girl starting up a reluctant horse, jiggling herself to guide Enid in the right direction.
"There! That's what we're after. All right, now remember, keep one foot on the ground at all times!"
Desperately trying not to fall, Enid maneuvered her way along the street.
"Do I have to be human? I don't know where to put these silly arms!"
"Everyone has that problem! Just be glad you're not an octopus."
"You've been an octopus?"
"Hey, I'm a faerie!" Escalla's feather plumes gave a twirl. Her frost wand and lich staff were being used as hat pins. Two cherries on the hat served as her eyes. "Once a week back home, we used to take turns to scare the horses."
"You and your sister would take turns polymorphing?"
"My sister didn't have to polymorph. She had a face like a dog's bum with a hat on." Escalla-the-hat folded her feathers. "But anyway, this is a human town! You have to blend in. A faerie and a sphinx might draw attention, you know. This way, we're invisible. We're just a part of the crowd."
This particular piece of the crowd was well endowed, had freckles, and was having a conversation with her hat. Still unhappy about her arms, missing her tail and wings, Enid tried her best to walk through the bustling street. She sniffed as she passed the ring of monks, then suddenly had to avoid a nasty fall.
"Arms are silly. Do they always just hang here like this?"
"Move 'em as you walk. Not like that! When your leg goes forward, your arm goes back. Anyway, you'll need the arms to carry all the cakes."
"What cakes?"
"The cakes we'll get at the bakery! It's on the list of provisions!"
Enid sheltered against a wall as carts of grain trundled past on their way to the town mill. She pulled out a pair of spectacles and perused the shopping list Escalla had provided for her.
"Let's see. Wine, honey, sugar, fruit, faerie cakes…" Enid read the list and screwed her pretty nose up in a frown. "Is this what we're getting for rations? I thought we needed some other things too?"
"Hmm?" Escalla waved a feather. "No, just that. Oh, and maybe some meat, bread, vegetables, and cheese. I can't think of everything!"
"I see." Enid carefully put the shopping list away. Escalla had a metabolism like a hummingbird. "I believe you should leave the rest of the shopping to me."
"Sure! But can we get some cream? I really want faerie cakes with the tops cut into those little butterfly wings!"
They reached a shop that actually seemed to be open-a shop that proudly hung a wooden board painted with a cake from its eaves. The sign seemed new, clean, and neat. It was perfect. Escalla jiggled until Enid moved in the right direction, and Escalla was almost knocked off Enid's head as the tall girl entered the cramped, dim little store. Out in the street, the monks moved their circle closer to the store. The noise of the city dimmed as the door swung firmly shut.
A large, sticky cake sat on a bench. The cake was covered in honey, fruits, and sugar, and it had been freshly sliced into dainty little pieces. In a town given over to mass producing simple food for refugees, the cake was an utter treasure. Escalla saw the sweet and drooled.
Enid gave a sniff then narrowed her eyes and leaned over the cake, sniffing at it again. Escalla reached out with her feathers, but Enid stepped back out of the way.
"Oh, dear. I believe I've forgotten my purse."
Escalla shifted on Enid's head, looking carefully from left to right. The hat disappeared with a subtle pop as the faerie turned invisible.
The attack came from the rafters-a massive blast of lightning stabbing from the dark. Enid ducked, and the spell shattered against a shield made of swarming golden bees. The ceiling instantly caught fire from the ricocheting energy.
The globe of bees flickered and swirled around Enid. Escalla hovered in midair, naked, visible, and coldly furious as she readied her lich staff in her hand.
"Nice one, frot-head! I like your poisoned cake."
Enid hissed like an angry cat, hunched, and bared her teeth. Escalla looked idly at another blank patch of darkness.
The next spell hammered at them in a manic blast of ice. The rear wall of the shop smashed in, the serving counter torn apart under a raging storm of icicles and frost. Safe inside their sphere of bees, Enid and Escalla watched and waited.
The frost storm died, leaving the room ice-white and steaming with mists. Posing with her staff idly crooked across her shoulders, Escalla looked at the damage with a sneer.
"For the uninitiated, this is a lesser sphere of invulnerability. An anti-magic shield. Guess you'll just have to take me out hand-to-hand." Escalla's shield spell worked both ways-no magic could go in, and no magic could go out. With a sly smile, the faerie laid a hand on Enid and caressed her with a spell. "But hey! Lookie what I've got here."
Clothes ripped to rags. Enid warped up and outward into her sphinx form, her hindquarters knocking over the remnants of the rear wall. Clawed and bristling, a full-grown sphinx now crouched beneath the faerie girl. Standing on Enid's head, Escalla looked idly about the shop.
"Are you coming out to play?"
The answer came as a derisive female laugh, a laugh ringing with insanity. The roof fell, and Enid leaped forward, smashing through the wall and out into the street. Escalla sheltered from debris beneath Enid's wings. The shield spell danced and shimmered a golden light across the cobblestones.
Standing in silence, a ring of hooded monks made a cordon around Enid and Escalla. The monks stood in silence, crouched and intense. Their robes hid their hands and faces in impenetrable darkness. Escalla hovered with her staff in hand. The sphinx unsheathed her huge claws and spread her wings. There were easily thirty monks, but it was doubtful that any of them could fly.
The laugh came once again-a horribly familiar laugh tinged with a gay touch of madness. Escalla felt absolute loathing ooze through her soul.
"You."
Tielle, Escalla's sister, became visible at last.
She was better fleshed than Escalla, with rounder curves at chest and thigh. Dressed in a few tiny specks of adamantine and silver, the faerie hovered gaily in mid air.
"Sweet sister and her pretty kitty!" Tielle looked at Escalla in sick intensity, as though she had long adored and lingered over every inch of Escalla's hide. "It was very dark in prison. They left me as a blob, you know. A blob in a big, dark hole. Because it was your joke. Because dear beautiful Escalla thought it was funny." Tielle stared, her eyes wide and intense. "Oh, Escalla. My wonderful Escalla." Tielle cradled a drinking horn and a crystal ball tight against herself, hugging them as though their love spoke to her soul. "I have so looked forward to feeling you die."
Running madly through the streets, Polk squinted at ankles, legs, and shoes. His badger nose smelled drow. Drow! People scattered, soldiers shouted. A woman screamed as he sped straight beneath her skirt. Polk wheezed as he ran, his fat fur rippling like an onrushing wave. Humans threw themselves out of his way, shouting in panic as they fought to escape the badger.
Polk ran, dodging as a soldier stabbed at him with a spear. The big badger finally found the city wall and raced growling along its base. He bowled over a pile of baskets, ripped clean through a row of tents, and scattered pots and pans in his wake. He bellowed, "Jus! Where are you son?" He got no answer, and so the badger lumbered on.
Three soldiers tried to wall him in with shields. Polk took them at a run, ploughing through a gap between their shields. He sped onward, scrabbling awkwardly up a set of stone stairs as he climbed to the city battlements. Overhead, the storm clouds shut away the sun.
"Son! Son, where are you? Where are you, son?"
"Polk! What in Cuthbert's name are you doing?" The Justicar sat at the head of the stairs with his sword across his knees, Cinders on his back, and Henry squatting beside him. Three town guards and a captain were with them, all gathered around a map. "Polk!"
The badger gave a savage roar. Polk leaped the last three steps, bowling Henry over as he landed on Henry's chest. Polk hurtled forward in a snarling charge beneath the magistrate and crashed into a vast spider that hauled itself over the battlements.
The giant spider was bigger than a horse. Polk shot under its jaws and attacked. Badger teeth ripped through chitin. Blood flew, and Polk wrenched the leg off the spider. Flailing its feet, the spider loomed over Polk, twin fangs bared and ready to stab down into the badgers heart. An instant later, the spider was smashed aside, Jus's blade smacking into the monster's face.
The blade hit hard, fast, and in savage silence. The monster staggered. The Justicar's sword hacked off one front leg, then another, then clove down in a massive blow that split the spider's head in two. He kicked the giant spider aside. The white blade of his sword shining, the Justicar looked across the city walls, and turned to roar back at the city guards.
"Get your men to the battlements! Move! Move!"
The captain stood, then lost his upper torso as a ballista bolt ripped above the battlements. Blood sprayed over the city walls. A second bolt whirred as it flew, and the Justicar raged forward, his big sword ringing as it caught the massive iron shaft and knocked it up into the air. Jus shouldered soldiers aside, then hacked his blade down into another spider's leg that came prancing over the wall.
Jus killed the spider with a vicious twisting thrust of his sword over the battlements. He cut away the web the creature had been laying as a ladder up the city walls. Soldiers stared, then grabbed crossbows, javelins, and bows, running faster and faster to their posts as the war cries and screams of an immense army sounded from the fields below. Signalers blew their battle horns as the whole world suddenly went mad.
The Justicar gave Polk a sharp nod, then helped him scrabble up onto the battlements. Polk and Henry looked out over the stone walls, off into the flooded countryside below, and both stared in ashen surprise.
"That wasn't there a moment ago!" Henry said.
Curtains of illusion faded and fell, revealing a vast army rampaging toward Keggle Bend. The flooded, muddy fields were jet black, boiling with a vile carpet of screaming flesh. For miles around, the countryside was covered with a baying, ravening multitude. Monstrous black shapes raged toward the city walls. There were spiders as big as dinner plates, as big dogs, and some as big as mares. There were creatures with swords and monsters with spears. Here and there, titanic spiders stood above the boiling mass, their backs crowned with ballistae and howling warriors. Black widows the size of horses led the incoming waves, the creatures splashing through muddy fields to clamber up the walls. Other spiders had already reached the battlements, webs stringing to the ground behind them as they climbed. The first wave of warriors reached the webs, and began to climb upward in a mass of hate and steel.