The Innocence of Teacups

Tanned, smiling, and with a cart topped up with exotic wares he leaned against The Sunfoam’s rail watching for Windmill Coast to come into view. After being on an island blazing with sunshine it was a shock to the system to be outside in a blustery winter. However Lignum was happier away from the heat. Actually tiny fingers were tugging at his hood, threatening to pull it down.

“I see smoke,” hissed Lignum, “and an orange glow.”

Fire. He leant forward against the rail alas it was too dark for him to see anything further than an arms span away.

“Captain!” came a yell from a crew mate from up on the crow’s nest. He waved his telescope around in his excitement, almost dropping it. “I think the port is on fire.”

As they drew closer to Windmill Coast it became apparent the port was on fire along with whatever boats had been resting there minding their own business. They weren’t boats any longer, they were floating bonfires. The crew were in a flap wherever they ought to weigh anchor which sounded like the majority decision. Passengers began popping their heads round masts and out of doors wondering what was with all the noise. Not everyone remained reserved. Freyr jaunted over to the rail and shoved into him, stealing his spot. He bit the inside of his cheek whilst counting to five in order to avoid shoving Freyr right back.

“Spirits,” Lignum whispered in his ear, “they’re waving banners.”

“Saying what? Can you see from here?”

“It’s in Nocta Umbrian and translates to: Capitulate wicked warlock.”

Bloody heck those spirits were serious about making an example of him. What to do? The fair thing would be to give himself up. They might torch the whole town if he failed to surrender.

“Spirits!” yelled a sailor from up on the crow’s nest. Ding ding rang a warning bell. “They’ve got banners and seem to be watching our ship.”

The floating bonfires flared up, enhanced by light magic. Runes painted onto the banners glowed purple. Freyr’s hands tensed round the rail.

“He thinks they’re after him,” he whispered under his breath.

Lignum chuckled and danced on his shoulder.

“Some spirits are getting into the ocean. I think they intend to swim over to us,” shouted the look out.

“Can we turn around?” asked a worried passenger.

“There won’t be time,” sighed Larissa. “Can anyone read their dark language? If we know what they want, we could negotiate.”

They wanted him. Only a coward would keep quiet. But he held his words for a moment to see what Freyr’s next move would be. Having read the runes would Freyr admit to being a dark sorcerer? He doubted it.

There must have been at least forty spirits stood on the docks. Half of them were sliding into the ocean, swimming over fast. Their white outer shells gleamed in the dark.

With her cutlass Captain Larissa swept at thin air. “All those with weapons draw them. This night we fight.”

The first mate edged over to Larissa. “What about those unable to fight?”

“They ought to lock themselves some place safe and hope they go undiscovered. To arms!”

Spirits were closing in fast. Some passengers scrambled below deck while others stared into the ocean contemplating jumping. He was yet to speak up about him being the reason for spirits invading The Sunfoam because the captain was overcome with adventure.

Wanting to help he slipped one knife from beneath his cloak, scared to use them both because Freyr was so close and having two knives might make the sleaze think of him. Of course he magically altered his knife’s properties. Freyr’s narrowed eyes slanted onto him making him sink right into his hood while Lignum clung to the back of the hood, dangling, trying to stay out of sight.

“Show off,” mustered Freyr. “We’ll probably see you splayed across a sail soon enough.”

Watching Freyr’s shadow he had to control himself from bursting into gold. Good job Larissa sensed the tension and hurried over to them. Only she didn’t make it because a spirit climbed the rail and scuttled right over to her. “Are you the captain of this ship?”

“Indeed I am, and you have no permission to be aboard.” Larissa took a step away from the chill.

The spirit bent forward. “I am Lieutenant Skulbon and am hunting an enemy of Spira. My orders come directly from Queen Kella.”

“Having never heard of a Queen Kella I demand you leave The Sunfoam.”

“Not until I have searched your ship for my warlock. No one will come to any harm as long as they stay calm and let my soldiers carry out their search.”

“You have no power here Lieutenant. I suggest you leave quietly.” Larissa made a slight hand gesture, signalling for back up. “My crew and passengers are under my protection. There are no warlocks here. Even if there were I would never surrender them to other worldly pests.”

Three crew mates stepped forward to stand at their captain’s back. His feet wanted to move. He could end a possible massacre by handing himself over to Skulbon.

Lignum pulled at a strand of hair which had fallen loose from within his hood. “Are you mad? They’ll torture you if you reveal yourself.”

“And if I stay quiet they’ll kill people.”

“Do you remember those horn hunters? Yes yes you do. Spirits would torment you worse than they did. If these people are killed then at least their deaths will be quick and clean. Not for Eagle the Spirit Slayer. Freyr has the right idea.”

There was no sign of Freyr around him. Looked as though he’d slunk off to hide somewhere. “Where did he go?”

“Below deck. Jump overboard. I reckon you could swim to shore easy enough from here.”

“I’m not abandoning Coco.”

“Coco’s just a horse he doesn’t even speak.”

“My horse who works for me.”

“What do you suggest we do then? Surely you can come up with something more creative than giving yourself up.”

“You’re the scholar. Can’t you conjure a plan?”

“I did. Jump.”

The Sunfoam carried on moving towards the harbour. The crew must be planning to dock the ship. At least there would be chance for everyone to evacuate. No one should die because of him. Skulbon and his soldiers were slashing away at Larissa and a section of her crew, trying to force their way below.

Time, they needed plenty of time for the ship to dock. He ran towards the main mast and thrust himself at the rigging. He could cause a distraction then everyone could make a break for the docks and head into the depths of town. Climbing a rigging wasn’t as easy as you’d think. He kept getting tangled up and Lignum would pull or slit the rigging away from his limbs to free him, while chattering his head in excitement. They were close to the harbour when they reached the top beam. He sat on top of this beam and stared down at the deck to try make out what was happening. All he could see were silhouettes. The crew yelled and spirits made odd screeches in unison like some kind of high pitched battle cry.

As he slowly got to his feet, Lignum dug fingers into his shoulder probably scared he would end up falling and breaking his neck in the process.

“Don’t worry I practise balancing on high beams. It all came as part of my assassin training.” The amount of roofs he’d scaled was uncountable.

They were ever so close to the docks now. Close enough to lay down a gangplank. Hopefully those spirits on the harbour would let the crew and passengers go free when they saw their wicked warlock. He gathered some shadow energy; made it flow all through him. “Close your eyes,” he warned Lignum then made himself glow gold. As he did so a dazzling white light beamed from over by the hold. The light moved fast right off the ship, crash landed onto the dock. Waiting spirits were forced to run out the way, scared of losing their sight. His goldness went un-noticed as Freyr tore through town on his cart.

“Catch the warlock. After him,” boomed Skulbon at his soldiers. Off they went hurtling themselves off the ship.

“Do we jump yet?” asked Lignum, his eyes still closed.

“No, it’s okay they’re chasing Freyr instead of me.”

Lignum laughed. “Let’s hope they catch him.”

“They won’t get close enough. He can shine brighter than me. Besides it’s me they want.”

Letting his gold sheen fade away he went to harness Coco to his cart. Passengers rushed off The Sunfoam some even went without their luggage. Not him he needed his stock to survive. Besides there was nothing to fear seen as the spirits had departed.

He led Coco out the hold onto the harbour. His deal with Fredrick would have to be forgotten seen as he could hardly risk hanging about Windmill Coast until morning. Best to carry onto his next destination.

People that lived close to the harbour crept out of their homes to watch boats burning. An awful lot of people were going to be out of work.

“Spirits never come over to Kazara. Why now?”

“We’re probably easier pickings. Zoticans have Sapphire Knights to protect them. All we’ve got are town guards and they’re only good for handling drunks and petty thieves.”

This was one conversation he heard from a huddle of people on his way by them. Windmill Coast would no doubt be alive with gossip in the morning.

On stepping off the harbour he noticed a crowd of people in front of him speaking in low frantic voices. They were looking at something; maybe they’d caught hold of a spirit. He tried to guide his cart around them but the road was too narrow. No one was budging even when he said excuse me. Giving up he looked for another way to go, that was until someone said, “burn it.”

“Vampyres don’t burn. You have to chop their heads off. Does anyone have an axe?”

Vampyre! He left Lignum sat on the cart and elbowed his way through the crowd to the centre of their circle. On getting there he was disgusted with what greeted his eyes. A man was poking an unconscious Alaric with a stick as though he were a rotting corpse. With a swipe of his knife he cut the poker’s stick in half and stood defensively in front of his friend.

“Go away all of you,” he said trying to sound threatening, but his words came out in a gasp.

“That is a vampyre, young man,” said the guy with the stick.

“Yes, he’s a vampyre not some circus attraction so you leave him alone.”

“Someone fetch an axe!”

He knelt on the ground and shook Alaric’s shoulder. No reaction. At least his chest rose and fell which meant he must be breathing. How was he going to get Alaric away from a frenzied mob? Someone was heading over to them with an axe. If Alaric’s head got chopped off he’d lose his friend and Aldegar would be left all alone.

“Wake up,” he shouted as hands grabbed hold of him and forced him away from Alaric. “Please don’t. He’s a good natured vampyre.” He struggled to try free himself and got pushed over to someone else.

“In league with this vampyre are you? Perhaps we ought to burn you. You probably brought it here,” snarled the man restraining him.

“Yes I’m in league with a vampyre,” he said and burst into gold. “What’s more I am the dark sorcerer those spirits are hunting.”

Startled the man let go his grip on him and stumbled onto someone’s toes.

Grinning, he threw down his hood in an attempt to live up to expectations these foolish town folk had of dark sorcerers. “If you harm my friend I shall burn your town to ruin.”

Some people parted to let him move towards Alaric. Others were more stubborn and persisted in barring his way. This wasn’t a problem for long because Coco came jolting right at the crowd and these people got their first glimpse of a pixie. All this strange activity was too much for most; half the mob ran away and when half were gone the rest soon got nervy too, and followed, calling out for axes and garlic.

Lignum pulled the cart to a halt beside Alaric. “We best leave before they return with axes.”

“Yeah. Can you help me put him on the cart?”

“I’m not touching it.”

“He’s not diseased.” He put his hands round Alaric’s chest and pulled him into a sitting position which made him stir somewhat. He leant Alaric against a cartwheel and crouched in front of him. “Hey, are you with me?”

“Heh?”

“Are you with me?”

Alaric groaned, half opened his eyes, and held his head in his hands. “Bright lights. Eagle went to warn about spirits then bright light.”

“That was Freyr.”

“Knocked me out the sky.”

“Who Freyr?”

“The bright light.” Alaric fully opened his eyes, gave a screech, and closed his eyes in an instant.

He held out his hands hoping he wasn’t still glowing. Nope his glow was gone. “There are no bright lights anymore.”

“I still see them. All I can see.”

How long until the sun rose? It was still late but best get Alaric inside. He could not leave him out on the street and if he travelled away from Windmill Coast they would be outside come morning meaning the sunlight would burn Alaric. An inn it would have to be which was too bad seen as he was down to only a few silver coins. It couldn’t be helped; Alaric needed to be kept in the dark.

“Have you got a trunk? You could shove him inside,” suggested Lignum while he helped Alaric onto the front of the cart.

“Don’t be beastly. Alaric’s been very good to me so we’re taking him to stay at an inn.”

“I thought we were getting out of town sharpish. What if those spirits come back? And those people from the harbour will be hunting through town for us.”

“Then we’ll have to keep low profiles.” He propped Alaric against his shoulder then instructed Coco to walk on. Alaric kept groaning; he must be suffering with a monster of a headache.

“He sticks out,” complained Lignum.

Alaric’s clothes were ostentatious and archaic, plus his pale face was distinctive, so yes he did stick out in crowds and looked like a shady character. At least the further they got into town the less movement they came across. Away from the harbour people were probably oblivious they’d been invaded by spirits or that dark sorcerers, vampyres, and cart driving pixies were running wild.

Only when they arrived at The Four Windmills did he realise the inn keeper would be in bed at this hour, and the inn doors would all be locked. What a bother. He hated to wake anyone up but what choice did he have when Alaric would be unable to hack sunlight?

He gave the door some discreet taps when they didn’t work he wrapped which didn’t get anyone’s’ attention so he ended up having to bang. A tired eyed innkeeper opened the door a crack, looking out, all grumbles.

“Excuse me,” he said in an apologetic tone, “you wouldn’t happen to have a room for two would you?”

“At this hour you must take me for a fool.”

“No not at all. You see we were going to stay aboard our ship until morning but spirits raided the docks.”

“Don’t joke about spirits.” The innkeeper made a move to close the door.

“I’m telling the truth. Look what they did to my friend.” He stepped aside and pointed at Alaric. “They’ve turned him ever so pale with their chill.”

The innkeeper’s eyes opened wide. “As white as winter sea foam. Spirits did that to him? And they’re here in Kazara? Good gracious. Come along inside.”

They managed to get Alaric into a room and onto a bed. The innkeeper was kind enough to let them settle in insisting they wait until a more convenient time to pay the bill. When the innkeeper left them, he went to inspect the windows, checking the shutters for cracks. There was only one. He found a washcloth and stuffed it in there so no light would seep through come morning.

Lignum crawled out from his hood. “Would you like me to keep watch?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. We pixies rarely sleep compared to you lazy humans.” Lignum pushed a chair up against the door, snatched one of his knives then hopped onto the chair.

He sunk onto a bed, watching Lignum swish the knife around, pretending he knew how to use it. A part of him thought leaving that pixie to guard their room from spirits and angry mobs was a disaster ready to erupt but was too tired to act on caution.