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The higher she made it up along the glass shop’s rear wall, the heavier the hook and rope became. Good thing the little goober only needed a thin rope. And the good sense not to stare at her naked body. He’d muttered an apology, after his yellow goblin eyes caught a glimpse when he handed her the hook. She hardly heard his muttered words. Not because she didn’t care, but because Glenn insisted on pouring a few extra potion drops into each of her ears.
They’d already wasted two minutes while five dirty workers noisily made their way down the street, toward the underground bars. Three in the morning was a little late to begin partying. She needed to party, at a real bar, with her sorority sisters.
Kirby’d wrapped a brown scrap of cloth around the hook so that the iron in its steel didn’t burn her hands. No way she wanted any part of the metal to brush up against her. She’d accidentally stepped on a nail in one of the wagons, and it burned like stepping on a hot frying pan. Ron, while healing her up, admonished her, saying, “That errant step cost one hit point.” He explained, in his lecture voice: “Falling face-first onto a sheet of metal will cause two four-sided dice of damage per round of contact.”
Being a fairy sucked. This whole world sucked poodle paws. Stephi wanted another bitch session with Kim, but there wasn’t time. She’d have to contact Kim right after Slumber Spelling the monkey and two guards. Again, Ron’s advice refocused Stephi. “Focus on accomplishing one task at a time. Those that follow will await their turn.”
He’d make a good dad, Stephi thought. Boring as hell, but good.
Before she poked her head up, she reached out with her fairy mind, trying to connect with the animal she was able to summon. Less than a block away two pairs of pigeons roosted in their nest. She called to them. Obediently they awakened. She sent the image of the ledge opposite to the one beneath which she fluttered. She directed for them to fly there, land, warble and coo until they felt danger from anything atop the roof.
Within thirty seconds she heard the pigeons’ wings flapping as they landed.
Stephi thought to Petie, Look here, and mentally shared an image of the glass shop’s roof.
The blue jay responded. <Me-us slow look.>
Stephi got an image. The man was in the same spot, walking toward the pigeons. The magic user’s monkey minion was moving her direction. How had that little furry thing heard her? So much for the distraction. Then she thought about Kirby below.
Moving quickly she lifted the hook and affixed it too the ledge. The weight gone she flew to the right.
The monkey squealed a warning. The pigeons panicked and fled.
Doing what she could to Camouflage herself, Stephi fluttered up and began her Slumber Spell. The monkey was trying to lift the hook but Kirby’s weight on the rope was too much for the little primate. The leather-clad guard was already racing over to the squealing monkey.
Stephi remained unnoticed as her spell went off. The monkey slumped to the rooftop. The man slowed, slumped and dropped like someone had switched off his brain.
She shot back down and angled toward Kirby, who was nearly to the top. He climbed as well as any monkey.
“Both are asleep,” she said and raced away. The second guard was next on her list.
She kept between the glass shop and the bakery, landing just before the street, and peeked out. The guard was across the street, looking up at the roof where the other guard should be. Had the pigeons drawn his attention? Or was it the monkey’s squeal?
Didn’t matter. She whispered the words to her second Slumber Spell. The man shook his head, like a bout of dizziness had struck him. He didn’t go down.
Damn, she thought, and went to Plan B. She didn’t have time to try and Charm him. It was the wing Dazzle Spell. As she flew across the street, she redirected the fairy magic buried in her core to flow to her wings.
She fluttering up in front of the man. He raised a hand, preparing to bat her away. The stupid man thought she was a big bat or something.
Stephi warned Ron and Derek nearby, saying, “Flash bulb.”
Brilliant light erupted from her wings, catching the man by surprise. He staggered back, shook his head, then smiled up at her. He reached for a dagger on his belt.
Derek came running, metal armor scraping and clanking, but Petie’s jeer call covered the noise. The big warrior plowed into the distracted guard with his shield, knocking him to the ground. A powerful hack from Derek’s long sword followed. It should’ve killed the guard, but it didn’t.
Since the guard wasn’t dropped by her Slumber Spell, he was above 4th rank. That meant he had a bunch of hit points. Nothing she could do. She’d left her tiny bronze rapier behind. She looked down at the necklace holding the Alexandrite gemstone, equivalent size to a strawberry hanging above her ginormous fairy boobs. Even if she channeled Kim, to borrow her Monk Warrior skills, she’d be about as helpful as a Kung Fu toddler.
The guard, on his feet, wielded his dagger expertly as Derek tried to close. Ron arrived, tossed a tiny scroll case up to Stephi, and said, “Mystic Missile.” He then raised his spear and entered the fray. Stephi looked around while opening the leather case. The street remained empty, except for a short figure moving toward them—it was Glenn.
The fight’s sound consisted mostly of grunts and thuds. Forth rank or above, the ambushed guard was proving a match for Derek and Ron.
Stephi focused her fairy vision, which wasn’t as acute as her elven sight. Still, there was enough to read the arcane words and release the spell. It was written down by Coleen Sammae and produced four amber balls of energy. They darted from Stephi, and slammed into the battling guard.
Ron’s spear thrust to the guard’s spine ended the struggle.
Derek shoved his sword back into its scabbard. “Come on, Striptease Barbie,” he said, beginning to trot across the street. “Lysine’ll take care of the body.”
Stephi didn’t have a comeback ready—other than “Jerk.” Instead of saying anything, she stuffed the scroll back into the case and tossed it to Ron.
Flying over the big warrior’s head, she heard him grumble, “That gnome better hurry up with the sledgehammer.”
It took Derek a minute to swing wide, and then make his way between the rear of the boot maker’s shop and the bakery. By the time Derek got to the heat pipe running from the glass shop to the pottery shop, Kirby was already gone. Through Petie’s eyes Stephi saw him running north with the filled sack over his shoulder.
“Go up and get the hook,” Derek ordered in a hushed voice, “while I bust apart this pipe.”
She didn’t argue. In the planning, Ron said to retrieve the hook and rope, if they were used. Before grabbing the wrapped hook, Stephi looked over the ledge, onto the roof. She spotted the guard, sprawled out exactly where her Slumber Spell dropped him. Liquid—blood—pooled around his head and shoulders. The kid had slit his throat.
She gulped down a bit of vomit that crept up her throat. Everyone said they were just NPCs, and the party’s survival was paramount. Was Keri Lovelace, the owner of the Glade House, not a real person? Did that dorky doofus, Jurome’s brave death mean nothing?
A cracking thud snapped Stephi back to the present. She carefully lifted the hook and descended. Ron was there, watching the street while Derek’s powerful arms drove the sledgehammer against the heat-conveying pipe. The fourth blow separated it.
Stephi dropped the hook and rope and fluttered up to Ron.
“Are you prepared?” he asked. The man’s eyes didn’t even stray to her liquid-blue naked body. Even Derek had been more focused on the mission than trying to catch an eyeful. That impressed her.
She was tempted to shake her head in answer to Ron’s question. Both in the negative and as a response to everything still sounding like she had shower water stuck in her ears. “Does it matter?”
He placed one hand on his chest where his wooden holy symbol to Gaia hung, and touched her shoulder with his other hand. A few arcane words later he nodded. “Your protection is now supplemented with a Minor Heat Resistance Spell.”
“Thank you, Lysne,” she said.
“Come on,” Derek hissed. His eyes lingered on her a moment. With the scant light and his human eyes, not like he’d see much. He pulled a long crowbar from his belt and prepared to work on prying out the pipe’s iron grate. “I ain’t looking forward to fighting more guards.”
Stephi doubted that. She held up a finger as she concentrated. Kim, I’m borrowing your Warrior Monk Dodging Skills. Letting her friend know wasn’t necessary, but it was polite.
Kim replied, <Don’t use them unless you must.> As always, her voice in Stephi’s mind sounded like it came from the bottom of a deep well. <You won’t earn experience points, if you do.>
I know, Byeol. Stupid experience points won’t mean anything if I’m dead.
<True.>
Stephi had shared the details of the plan the party came up with. She told Kim a lot of things. It was a weird relationship. Stephi had to initiate all contact, and Kim could only respond on topic to what Stephi brought up. But it was better than nothing, for her and for Kim.
Within seconds Stephi felt her body infused with an exceptional sense of calm, balance, and snap reflexes.
Around Derek, a crackling flash went off, filling the air with the smell of ozone.
“Come on, Mariposa Streaker Barbie,” Derek growled, tossing aside the metal grate he’d pried out of the clay pipe. “Since I can’t get a decent eyeful in the dark, hanging around, flapping your wings is wasting everyone’s time.”
Stephi flew over and landed near the open pipe leading into the glass furnace. “Jerk.”
Derek shook a bone scroll case holding a mixture of lead and copper beads before handing it down to her. “Nice maracas.”
Stephi sneered and spread her wings, preparing to release a Dazzle Spell. “Wanna see a little more?”
“Kalgore,” Ron said, restrained anger in his voice, “move to Position C. Remain alert and prepared.”
“Right,” Derek said. He picked up the sledgehammer and crowbar, and trotted away.
Ron’s eyes lingered a half second on Stephi’s body before meeting her eyes. “Remember, hold your breath. The Heat Resistance Lotion only protects that to which it is applied. Your trachea and lungs are not included.”
She’d already been warned of that. The warrior druid’s spell would protect her entire body, but it wasn’t strong enough compared to what was supposed to be in the furnace.
Intense heat flowed out of the pipe, causing Stephi’s damp fairy hair to wave, like it was caught up in a steady breeze. “Thanks for the reminder,” she said, her voice a little shaky. She tucked back her wings before getting on her hands and knees in front of the pipe.
“I have the utmost faith in your ability to succeed,” Ron said. “You should have the same.”
Right, Stephi thought to herself. She took a deep breath and scuttled into the pipe.