The Living Dead

3

"That old man had better show up soon. You know-" Mialee waved a wobbly index finger in Devis' face-"I'm going to kill him."

Mialee slumped over her wine glass. Two empty bottles of Gurgitt's finest sat on the bar before her, next to four or five empty ale glasses. Devis was having trouble keeping track.

The elf woman had claimed to have no head for wine, but the girl could drink.

"Kill. Him. If he's not dead," she added with the glass-eyed emphasis of the truly holy or the truly drunk.

Devis nodded dimly at her oath, but his eyes were on Gurgitt. The barkeeper was pushing his considerable bulk through the crowd gathered around the fallen ghoul, clutching a smelly stable blanket in one hand and a meat cleaver in the other.

The crowd stood back as Gurgitt grunted and snarled his way through the necessary deed of dismembering the creature. Though its head was all but gone, most people in Dogmar would never bury an intact ghoul corpse for fear of having to deal with it again.

Hound-Eye would survive, thanks to the bard and the wizard. Devis was relieved. He'd never intended to get the little guy mutilated with his scheme. Not that Devis expected the halfling to run headfirst into a ghoul when he left the tavern. When the bard slipped him a gold piece to filch the wizard girl's purse-so that he, Devis, could stop the crime, of course-he had every intention of buying Hound-Eye an ale or two to make up for it. They'd always gotten along well, and had helped each other out of tight spots.

The burly barkeep knelt and rolled the ruined creature's limbs and carcass onto the canvas with a look of disgust. Someone from the crowd told the big man not to let his wife get hold of the pieces, and Gurgitt stood abruptly, the messy bundle over one shoulder.

"I know where everything is, and how much money's in the cashbox, y'bastards," he growled to the assembly. "Devis will tell me if any of you try anything."

With that, the big man marched out into the rainy night through the ruined entrance to his tavern. Every pair of eyes in the Silver Goblet fell on Devis, including Mialee's.

"You a security guard, now, Dewy-Boy?" a black-bearded gnome squeaked from the crowd. The gnome's hand strayed to the hilt of a long knife.

Devis gulped. He heard Mialee snigger.

"You look like you could use some air," Devis said, turning to her so quickly he nearly lost his balance and fell from his stool. "Would you like to go for a walk?"

Without waiting for her to reply, he slid to the floor and offered her his arm. He wobbled unsteadily and flashed a lopsided grin that no woman could resist-he hoped.

"Devish," Mialee smiled, "I'd love to."

Devis thought he heard a voice shout "You're drunk!" in his mind, but decided he must be imagining it. After all, he was drunk.

The rest of their walk took them as far as the steps leading up to Mialee's room.

Well, that took long enough, Biksel announced inside Mialee's head as the bard snored softly next to the elf woman.

Go to blazes, Biksel.

Mialee couldn't sleep.

Literally. Elves did not sleep. Her people had no physical need for an unconscious state that stole a third of one's waking life. An elf could tire, but they banished simple fatigue with meditation and inactivity.

Mialee desperately wished she could sleep. Her head pounded, the painful reminder of earlier excesses. Devis had no such trouble. Mialee felt his warm body next to hers and listened as the bard snored softly. He slept, of course. He had human blood. She hated him for his infuriatingly satisfied dozing.

A loud crash erupted from the foot of the bed as the door was flung open.

Mialee blinked and leaned up to see what fresh hell had entered her life now.

She had to be hallucinating. A trio of dwarves stood in the doorway. The biggest one held a heavy axe over one shoulder and wore a blue leather sash that looked like a badge of official position.

"Devis! Looks like you picked the wrong place to hide out tonight."

That was a real dwarf, all right, no hallucination. Beside her, Mialee felt Devis struggle to rise to a standing position on the bed. He failed, but was wildly successful at tangling himself in the sheets and rolling headfirst off the mattress and onto the floor, taking all of the blankets with him. Mialee had more luck without the burden of covers, and rose naked on wobbly knees and uneven mattress to face the dwarves. She strove to calm her mind and think of some spell that could get her out of this ridiculous situation.

"Muhn, I was just about to come see you," Devis said from the floor. He finally freed himself from the bedclothes and stood. He wasn't wearing anything either. "You wouldn't happen to be holding a private card game tonight, would you?"

The dwarf cackled, and the other two joined in the laughter. "You've fleeced me too many times, bard. No more games. I'd take the shirt off your back, but under the circumstances, I'll settle for you."

Mialee saw the two dwarves who had not yet spoken advance on either side, their axes raised menacingly. The blue-sashed dwarf veered to intercept Devis, axe clutched in both gauntleted hands.

Mialee didn't wait for their next move. She was loath to use the last of her magic, but could see no alternative.

"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

She shot her index finger forward at the nearest dwarf, moving toward her right side. The dwarf stopped leering at her and followed the faint, blue line that shot from Mialee's fingertip straight into the center of the dwarf's breastplate. Crackling ice crystals formed instantly around the spot and grew outward. In moments the man’s wiry beard was frozen to the metal on his chest. The dwarf squirmed and danced in a flailing panic as the ice spread and the temperature plunged inside his armor plate.

Ray of frost, Mialee heard Biksel's voice echo in her temple. Well done, Mialee. But don't catch a chill yourself. Can I offer you a feather?

Choke on a worm, Biksel.

The dwarf gave up trying to wriggle free of his frigid armor and ran screaming from the room.

The ray was her last offensive spell. She could cast no more until she could study her book again, but she was willing to bet the remaining dwarves didn't know that. She whispered a cantrip, a minor effect that could cause no real harm, and glared as illusory fire engulfed her hand.

"Ice and fire, spirits of darkness, I command you to engulf these foohsh dwarves in the flame of vengeance!" she bellowed in her mightiest voice of doom.

No elf wizard ever spoke the common language when invoking a spell, but Mialee was willing to bet the dwarves didn't know that, either.

The two dwarves froze as stiff as their companion's armor, jaws dropped in shock. Devis, still standing beside the bed, turned to her and smiled.

"Thanks."

"Didn't you hear me?" Mialee roared. "Get out!"

Devis pointed, openmouthed, at his own chest, obviously disbelieving that she wanted him gone.

"Yes, you! You, them, everybody! Out!"

"Very well," Devis said, "Maybe I'll see you around."

He winked, grabbed his battered lute from the bedside, jerked open the shutters and leaped, wearing only the instrument on his back, out the window into the driving rain. The bard yelped as his shoulder collided with the window frame, then he was gone.

The dwarf Devis called Muhn turned to his remaining companion and said, "Don't just stand there, idiot, circle around and find him. He can't stay on the damned roofs all night!"

The dwarf scrambled to comply, dashing out the door after his scorched comrade.

Muhn turned to the naked elf and grinned. Mialee simply raised her hand again and let a small crackle of illusory energy spark from her fingertips.

"Out," she said.

The dwarf raised his axe and continued forward. "The bard's magic whore doesn't get out of this one," he growled. "I don't know where he found you, but I'm going to find out."

Mialee's hand glowed more brightly, and she arched a single eyebrow in a gesture that carried volumes of quiet menace-she hoped. Muhn paused and his eyes flicked uncertainly to the door, then back to the elf girl.

The standoff was interrupted by a shout from outside the window. It was Muhris lackey.

"We got 'im! He's heading out over the rooftops!"

The dwarf began backing out of the room, keeping both eyes on Mialee's glowing hand.

"I'll get out," Muhn growled, "but you just made yourself an enemy of the constable of Dogmar."

He turned on his heel and marched out the door after his quarry. Mialee closed and locked the door after him, then climbed back onto the bed to look out the window. About ten feet down was another, lower rooftop, and from her vantage point, she could see out over most of the town. Devis was gone.

Mialee collapsed onto the bed and closed her eyes again, trying to force herself to meditate. Her throbbing head refused to comply.

She heard a flap of wings as Biksel flew overhead to light upon the open windowsill.

Have you ever thought that perhaps this fascination with musicians is a bit unhealthy?

"Ow," Mialee replied. "Get me a bicarbonate of soda or you can go out the window, too."

But I don't have the-

"Shut up, Biksel."

Devis shivered as rain pounded his bare back. The cover of night should at least help hide him. A man wearing nothing but a lute on his back would have attracted attention in the daytime. If he kept to the alleys and shadows, however, he could stay hidden long enough to grab something to wear from a clothesline or rubbish heap and stave off hypothermia. If he had to, he'd grab a burlap sack and rip a hole in the top for his head.

He patted the lute slung over his shoulder. At least he'd been able to grab the instrument before he'd made his hasty exit.

After leaping from the window, he'd been able to run only a few blocks from the Silver Goblet before the adjoining rooftops gave out. Forced to ground, Devis chose this darkened walkway as the best place to avoid Constable Muhn and find something to wear. His naked, rain-soaked body was chilled to the bone.

Devis scanned the piles of detritus and trash littering the narrow cobblestone causeway but found nothing he might use to clothe himself. He checked the few doors that opened into the alley. All were locked.

He glanced back down the alley toward the street. A familiar, stout silhouette stood between Devis and the main road. Then another, and another. A clank of heavy armor and the thump of booted feet boomed down the alley toward him, lead by Muhn.

"Hey, Muhn, you're not going to believe this," Devis said, "but did you know that my, uh, my…" He looked around for a weapon, stalling. "My coming has been foretold! I, ah, got named in a prophecy yesterday! Yeah, if something happens to me, the evil one will gain dominion."

Muhn blinked. "What?"

Devis unslung the lute and jammed a finger at the dwarf. "Kill me and Fate herself will strike you down!" He underscored that last bit, striking a single, ominous chord on the instrument.

Muhn ripped the lute from Devis's hands and ground it beneath his boot before turning on the bard. Devis kept his hands crossed in front of his waist as the three dwarves knocked him to the wet pavement. It wasn't just the lute he was concerned about.

Fortunately, the alley was narrow. Only three of them could kick him at a time.