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The party pressed on until early evening. They pulled off the road to camp within sight of another group of wagons. Their destination was apparently to the north. Ron, Blizz, Derek and the other driver managed to get one of the lead wagon’s wheels changed. Cracked and wobbly as it was, Glenn guessed it didn’t have more than another hundred turns left. It was probably a low estimate, but it wouldn’t hold up against too many more rocks or twisting ruts. Captain Nickson said they should reach Riven Rock before noon despite their slow rate of travel. No way the replaced wheel would’ve lasted that long. Actually, Glenn wondered about two other wheels, one of them on the wagon he rode.
Glenn sighed. Even if wheel failure was one of his worries, the wagon wheels weren’t one of his responsibilities.
Ron believed a campfire would be a good idea, so Glenn was assigned to gather whatever bits of wood he could find. Some of the scattered thorny bushes seemed to be the most likely source.
Kirby accompanied him, as did Stephi. She flitted above, watching for danger. Kirby stalked along, making his way around rocks and stands of scrub grass. His gaze flicked left and right and even up into the darkening sky.
The hot air wicked up sweat from Glenn’s skin. His gnome nose smelled bone-dry dirt. Sort of a baked sandstone and acrid bark scent. Better than road dust and weary horse.
Something was bothering Kirby, leaving the half-goblin thief agitated. Glenn cleared his throat about it when Kirby signaled with Blizz’s hand axe for Stephi to drop closer.
“Captain Nickson, Yonn and Slarg are jumpy as hell,” the half-goblin thief whispered. “Our guy, Mardin, is worried as hell, too.”
“I’m a little on the freaked out side, too,” Stephi said. “That ugly manticore and creepy zombie goblin? Who wouldn’t be?” When neither Glenn nor Kirby agreed, she asked, “Jax, aren’t you freaked out—just a little?”
Glenn tossed down the canvas tarp next to a dead thorn bush and began unfolding it. “I’m more worried than freaked out, Marigold.” He expected Kirby to chime in. The thief didn’t.
Instead, Kirby said, “This might be the first time in a month I’ve agreed with Kalgore.” Kirby examined the bush. Eyes squinting, the thief strategized how he might reach the good wood without getting scratched up by the thorns. “Burning a few of the red oak boards to lighten the load makes sense to me.”
Glenn stepped back from the tarp. “But not to Lysine and Guard Captain Nickson.”
“Yup,” Kirby said. “Because they ain’t the one who has to deal with these thorns.”
Stephi glanced around. “Are you sure it isn’t because the wood is worth a lot of money?”
“The coin the wood’s worth is reason enough for Lysine,” Kirby said. He hunched low and pressed a dead branch up with his forearm, counting on his leather armor for protection. “But not for that guard captain.”
The half-goblin thief scrunched up his pointed nose and then got to work with the hand axe. Once he had the first couple of branches chopped off, the thorn-scratching job got easier.
While Glenn dragged the branches onto the tarp, Kirby said, “Me and Lysine were talking. Kalgore, too.”
Kirby glanced around warily, then watched Glenn place his heavy boot on the main stem of the first branch before carefully grabbing and snapping off the smaller ones.
Impatience written across her face, Stephi asked, “About?”
“That zombie today with the Tracking Gem.”
Glenn stopped working and crossed his arms. “I don’t think it was a Wandering Creature Encounter either.”
Kirby’s yellow eyes widened. “Really? ’Cause that’s what we decided, too. About the lizard man zombie with a Tracking Gem, too.”
Glenn thought back to their encounter with the undead lizard man while fishing along the bank of the Snake Claw River. Something important had been decided, and he’d been excluded.
Stephi crossed her arms, mimicking Glenn. Except her action pushed up her breasts, causing more cleavage to show. Kirby’s eyes widened at the sight. Then he frowned and got back to work.
The gnome’s growing anger helped him suppress a smile. A top-heavy fairy fluttering in place with arms crossed and a scowl. An ironic image, in a cute sort of way.
“Why are you surprised?” Stephi asked. “Jax is smart.” Her hands went to her hips. “Me, too.” She huffed. “Stop chopping, Gurk, and look at me when I’m talking.”
The half-goblin thief complied.
“Why didn’t you include me and Jax in the big discussion?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Because we don’t know anything about the stupid game we’re all stuck in?”
She flitted down and stopped, nose to nose with the half-goblin thief. “We might not have known much when we first got here, but we’ve been learning.” She pointed an accusing finger at Kirby. “Tell me. How are we supposed to learn more if we’re always left out?”
Glenn nodded in agreement. He felt much the same way.
“Ummm,” Kirby started. “Because you were on the other wagon. And Kalgore rode up and started talking about it?”
“So?” Stephi said, not buying it.
“Come on,” Kirby said. He gestured open palmed with his left hand. His right still held Blizz’s hand axe. “Kalgore and Lysine are tight friends. Like we three are.” His voice faded on the last sentence, showing uncertainty.
Glenn scowled in thought. Kirby’s statement made sense. Derek put up with Glenn, probably because they were party members from the real world stuck in the same predicament. Not like he’d come asking Glenn for input or advice. Derek was friendlier with Stephi. Mainly because she was easy on the eyes. Or so Glenn figured.
Stephi winged herself a few feet away from her nose to nose position.
Before Glenn verbalized his agreement, Kirby’s left hand clenched into a fist and his right dropped the hand axe onto the dry, hard-packed ground. It balled into a fist, mirroring the left held down at his side. “Whatever, dudes. I came over here to tell you first chance I got.” His intense gaze moved away from Glenn and Stephi and focused back on the camp. “When none of the freaking out men-at-arms could overhear.” He spun around and faced the other way.
Glenn often had to remind himself that Kirby was actually a junior high kid, and prone to teen-driven emotions. And his half-goblin game heritage constantly pressed a darker emotional tinge—at least if it was anything like Glenn’s insistent gnome tendencies attempting to steer his actions.
“Whatever,” Stephi said, her hands again on her hips as she flapped a few more feet above the ground. She spoke to Kirby’s back. “Did you tell Kalgore and Lysine that we should be involved in the discussion about the creepy zombie goblin—that was after me?” She rushed an answer, not giving Kirby a chance. “That would be a ‘No.’ Right?”
Kirby turned back to face Stephi. His eyebrows drew down and a sneer filled his face. Things were going to get bad if Glenn didn’t intervene. He stepped between the two. “I’m interested in what you have to say, Gurk.” He shot a glance over his shoulder, up at Stephi. “We both are.”
The gnome turned back to the angry half-goblin. “We’re just a little miffed at being left out.” He held out his hands, palms up. “Think about it. You would be, too.”
“That’s why I’m here, telling you now.” His clenched, partially-pointed teeth never separated while forming those words.
The anger was way beyond what Kirby had ever shown, Glenn thought. At least toward himself or Stephi.
Glenn took in a breath. “So, what did you guys determine is out there looking for us?”
Kirby’s demeanor changed. He looked around, eyes wide, then involuntarily tucked his head down a couple of inches when he whispered, “That lich we saw in the Dark Heart Swamp.” He gulped. “And it’s not looking for us.” He pointed up at Stephi. “It’s looking for the Soul Gem.”
Very little wood got cut and gathered in the five minutes it took for Kirby to explain what he, Derek and Ron had pieced together.
Stephi and Glenn lay tucked under the same blanket, each on top of a sack of wool in the covered wagon. They’d shared the first watch, along with Mardin. Now, unlike Blizz who snored away beneath the wagon, neither could sleep. Both lay worried and cold, Glenn within inches of shivering.
The gnome healer’s mind kept recalling the horrible encounter with the lich, Malthia the Cursed, riding her black steed. A fiery-eyed Gehenna steed. The moment in the swamp when he’d frozen in place, so terrified he couldn’t run, or duck and hide. It was the lich’s Aura of Fear and Dread that’d affected him. Low-rank adventurers didn’t even get a Saving Throw against it.
Stephi startled him when she whispered, “You think Lysine’s right, Jax?”
He rolled over to face her. His low-light vision showed her head peeking out from beneath the gray wool blanket. Her green eyes held wide.
Lysine determined the lich had recruited the swamp’s goblin tribe to help attack the Outpost where the party’d slain the husk mummy. They’d gone there to get the amulet that made the wearer invisible to undead. Apparently the husk mummy used the amulet to kill the previous occupant: a vampire. During the search, before the underground complex flooded, Stephi found the Soul Gem under the staked vampire’s skull.
Apparently the husk mummy wasn’t unaware of the magical gem lying hidden, easily within her grasp. Apparently Malthia the Cursed was aware of its existence. And was aware of the fact that some adventurers had whisked it away. And the lich was searching for it—for them—for Stephi, who now wore the Soul Gem. The magical item that housed the soul of their fallen party member, Kim.
The moment after Kirby’d explained it all, Glenn wracked his brain to come up with another theory. Who else might be sending the zombies with Tracking Gems? They required a high-rank wizard to create. At least twelfth rank.
The only other people who knew the party had the Soul Gem was the High Priest of Apollo and his assistant. The church offered a Revive the Dead Spell cast upon Kim in exchange for the amulet that made the wearer invisible to undead. When Kim failed her System Shock Roll, her soul went into the vacant Soul Gem. Until that moment, no one in the party knew the alexandrite gemstone was enchanted, let alone its magical properties.
The Church of Apollo wouldn’t create undead. Nor would it need a Tracking Gem to locate Glenn’s party. They’d been living at the Glade House in Three Hills City since the day Kim’s soul entered the gem. And they were a White church. They wouldn’t create undead. Nor would they share such information, especially with someone Black, someone with connections to a lich. And if they had shared info about the party, then seeking the Soul Gem through zombies wouldn’t be necessary.
With both eyebrows raised, Stephi propped herself up on an elbow. She repeated her whispered question. “You think Lysine’s right, Jax?”
Glenn was less than a foot from Stephi’s 19.5 Appearance-score face, which threatened to distract him, so he forced his gaze down toward the line where the two sacks packed with wool pressed together.
The gnome responded with a question. “That it’s the lich that created the lizard man and goblin zombies?”
Out of the corner of his eye Glenn saw her small head nodding.
“That’s what Kirby said Lysine determined.” The fairy magic user’s voice shifted from frightened toward conspiratorial. “And that it’s a good thing that creepy zombie saw us heading toward Riven Rock.”
“Right,” Glenn said. “Means the lich’ll be less likely to search for us in Three Hills City.” Even saying “lich” sent small chills up his spine. No way was he going to say the lich’s name out loud. Maybe taboo or superstitious or whatever, but saying it wasn’t a good idea.
Stephi nodded again. “What are you frowning for? That’s what Gurk said.” She sat up and clasped her hands together. Her iridescent wings spread wide. “And when I get changed back to being an elf, the lich thing will still be looking for a fairy in Riven Rock.” At the statement’s end her voice rose above a whisper, filled with excitement.
That put even more pressure on the party to succeed, so they could get the leprechaun’s coin from the pawnshop owner.
With the speed of an arrow, Stephi shot over and embraced Glenn with a hug. It was like an infant’s hug, but stronger—and sexier. Glenn hugged back, lower to avoid her wings. That brought his hands down to her bottom. He yanked them away, embarrassed.
Stephi didn’t even seem to notice. She puckered her lips and gave the gnome a quick peck on the cheek before shooting back onto her sack, pulling up the blanket.
“I feel so much better, Jax. Don’t you?”
Glenn looked down at the blanket and pulled it up. “Yeah,” he said. “I do, Marigold.” He forced mirth into his hushed voice. “Now maybe we both can get some real sleep.”
Minutes passed and he heard the quick but steady breathing coming from the beautiful woman next to him. The gnome healer couldn’t sleep, replaying the encounter with the goblin zombie. Derek shouted Stephi’s name, Marigold, before he hacked it to bits with his sword.
Did Tracking Gems not only allow the creator to see what’s around them, but hear, too? Glenn vaguely remembered some crystal balls in Dungeons and Dragons being able to do both—he thought. That was a long time ago, when he played. And now, although he was in a game, part of the game, the question caused spurts of acid to well up from his stomach.
He’d have to ask Kirby, or Ron. He’d wait to ask until a moment when Stephi was too far away to hear.