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Vanishing Coin
The great thing about having a magical hat was owning the ability to travel through space and time. The bad thing was the price I had to pay. My general price for performing small feats of magic was the chipping away of my assumed humanity. The specific price for using the hat to transport me across the realms was being completely aware as the magic ripped apart my flesh and bone, aware of being dragged through the fabric of reality before it reassembled my body at the other end.
Despite the price, I had to get to Sparrow’s castle ASAP. The need for information was greater than the need for comfort.
I came out of the portal feet first. My shoes landed on a thick shag rug sprawled across the stone floor. Very little of the stone floor could be seen thanks to the many rugs and tapestries strewn on the ground, although the cold creeping up through the thick carpets was a constant reminder. I took a minute to rest my raw nerve-endings, legs crumpled up beneath me and my head turned to the side so the carpet wouldn’t obscure my breathing.
It only took a moment, the feeling of being ‘new’ only ever lasting for a couple of deep breaths. Soon enough I was able to sit up on my own speed and look around. I had been coming to Sparrow for longer than I could remember, and somehow I always managed to land in a different part of her castle.
This time I had apparently landed in one of the taller towers, the broken tracks at the very top of the domed room combined with the sheer size of the room itself suggesting I landed in what used to be an old bell tower. Large planks covered the windows with various languages scratched into the wood, every character glittering at me in the darkness. The castle’s native magic was responding to my teleportation. After a moment, the light began to slither up into the surrounding walls and ceilings as the castle began to re-weave its defensive spells, the building having decided to let me live despite my intrusion.
The characters in the wood had been carved by a young and wildly-frightened Sparrow. The castle had absorbed so much of her emotion it began to regurgitate those feelings in response, her emotions beating out the path to her homestead’s sentience. Magic forged from the fires of emotion is the strongest magic of all.
With the castle’s decision final, the warding spells disappearing as the castle set its magic back into place, I got to my feet and turned. Leaning over the magical vortex, I waved a half-gloved hand over the opening. The portal glowed in response to the motion, gave a small pop and folded up into this dimension as a ringmaster’s hat. I plucked it off the floor, brushed off the fraying top, and placed my friend back in her spot on the top of my head.
Something slammed behind me. My feet propelled my body over the nearest table and across the room before I even knew what happened, leaving a trail of scattered paper and quills flying through the air behind me. I had a sheet of camouflage halfway pulled from my jacket pocket before I managed to spin around and look for whatever it was that spooked me.
The round door leading into the tower was thrown open, a figure shrouded in a brown cloak standing next to it. The figure slammed the door shut with a foot, ominously staring me down from beneath the hood of its cloak.
I let out a nervous breath, silently berating myself for letting instinct take over.
"Sparrow," I huffed, relaxing and shoving the camo sheet back in my pocket. "Do you have to scare me every single time I visit?"
The small figure laughed as she shook her head free of its hood, revealing floppy brown hair and a pair of round brown eyes. Her size and impish face made her look about ten or twelve, and the little stunts she pulled to scare me never ceased to have a mischievous undertone. Despite all that, there was a dangerous edge to her eyes forcing any smart man to maintain distance and manners.
"Rod," she greeted me with a giggle as she bowed. "I can't help it. You're so easily shaken."
"You'd be skittish too, if you'd led my life," I muttered. Remembering my manners, I returned her bow. “Here,” I said, pulling out an old leather-bound notebook and tossing it to her. “Have a look at what I’ve got.”
Her little hands caught it with a clap and slid it open in one smooth movement. She glanced down at the page spread for a moment or two before snapping it shut and looking back up at me.
“Do you know what this is?"
“Creature catalogue, right?” She stared at me with a curious look, one eye shifting color from brown to black. I shrugged. “I don’t have to know what it is to use it as a trade, right?”
She stared for another moment, the other eye changing to black. She narrowed her eyes and finally asked, "why do you have this book, Rod?"
I smiled and gave a careless shrug. "I'm a thief. I like to steal things."
"You should not have stolen this," she said, holding the journal up. "It was not meant for you."
I laughed. "Nothing is meant for me. That's the point."
Sparrow threw it back at me and spoke with an even tone. "Keep the book. It is not mine to take either."
I peeled the leather off my cheek and slipped it back in my pocket. “Fine, but I don’t have much else in the way of barter. I was hoping the journal of a Koanni elf would be enough trade for info on a Koanni bloodline.”
She tipped her head to one side with a small smile. "So, you seek information on alien cultures? I didn’t know you were a xeno-anthropologist.”
I gave a careless shrug. “I’m interested in many things, Sparrow. Aliens are only part of it.”
She gave a small nod, as if that was an acceptable answer. “Then I’ll help you without payment. Koanni is of personal interest to me.” Her eyes turned blue as she motioned to my pocket with a hand. “Let’s see the real reason you’ve appeared in my castle.”
I was hoping I’d get to do the big reveal of Layla’s magic sword, but the mysterious midget beat me to it. Reaching into my other pocket, I fished out the broadsword and held it up. As soon as the metal hit the cold air of the tower, the blade flashed a brilliant blue, the blinding light piercing the room and casting sharp shadows against the walls. The handle scorched my skin, my hand jerking away and letting the sword fall.
My palm throbbed with the echoes of the burn, shadows around us jerking as the blade hit the floor. They began curling and twisting on their own, the sword vibrating dully against the carpet. The blade chattered, the light shifting to form a spotlight on the ceiling. It reached up into the air, a pillar of blue emanating lifeless cold.
Sparrow took two steps away, one eye shifting to a vibrant green as she watched.
A figure began to emerge from the pillar, blue light twisting inside the form until the silhouette of a person was revealed. The shadows around us jerked, heading towards the beam and wrapping around the body in the form of slick, black robes.
A glow began to stretch underneath the robes, creating the illusion of skin. It twisted and thinned around her face to make ears and a nose, submerged itself around delicate cheeks and deep-set eyes. Searing white light exploded out the back of the head, entwining itself into the shape of long, flowing hair. As the hair began to drift around a very female neck, it began to shift colors until it stopped at pale yellow.
There was another blinding flash. When it faded, a fully-formed woman stood before us. She was pale as fine china, white skin offset by the black robes wrapped tightly around her. She hung in the air for a moment, eyes closed and barely moving.
She was a ghost.
A ghost came out of the half-blood’s sword.
I took off again, scrambling my way across the maze of tables to smash myself against the farthest wall, pulling at my camo sheet as I willed myself to merge with the cluttered wall-shelves in an attempt to disappear as I stared. The ghost slowly descended to the floor. Not a sound was heard when she landed, except the anxious wheezing of a paranoid magician.
It’s not that I had anything against the ectoplasmic community. I just don’t like ghosts. They can get in your head. Make you do things. I had seen my share of supernatural happenings, and almost every one ended badly. Why humans had such an obsession about them, I’ll never know.
She stood over the sword, body slowly straightening up from a hunched position. The light in the room dimmed, replaced by the multicolored glow of the castle’s runes as it responded to the sudden surge of energy. With a massive shudder, the ghost was suddenly upright and rigid. Her eyes flew open as she drew in a deep, ragged breath ending in a coughing fit.
Her fit died down, wisps of golden hair drifting around her face as a set of forest-green eyes began to illuminate her face. She looked directly at Sparrow. They stared at each other for a moment, Sparrow’s eyes changing color to the same forest-green. The ghost took a gentle step around the sword, bringing her feet together and bowing low.
"Thank you," her voice haunted sighed. “It has been ages since I was set free.”
"It wasn't I who freed you, Lady," Sparrow responded with a return bow. "Your rescuer is behind you."
The ghost’s glowing eyes scanned the room. Despite my magically-enhanced camouflage making me invisible, her green eyes found me amongst the books and fallen scrolls. "Of course," her voice whispered as she smiled and repeated her bow. "The thief with the delicate hands. You would have been the one to steal me."
Since there was no sense in hiding from a ghost that could see past my invisibility, I pulled the cape away from my head, staring in silent curiosity.
Her smile widened, the movement slow and careless. "I've watched the whole adventure from inside." She reached down and plucked the sword from the floor, holding it up and pointing it lazily at me. "Why else do you think the blade glows as it does?"