Heroes of Magic and Might
Chapter 18 – Bad spirits, bad faith
…
The forest was thick and wet with rain though the heavy mist had at last died away. The little vampire grumbled none too quietly as they trudged through the dripping undergrowth.
"I just cannot understand you."
"Yeah?"
"You don't even know these people."
"Uh huh."
"…so why are you helping them?"
He gave no reply to that, not even a grunt. There were things he could have said, valiant lines of noble intent, cynical words of self-centeredness, yet none of them seemed to fit. When you got right down to it, he didn't know why. The words had just come out, and that was the crux of it.
"I gave them my word," and a man was nothing if not as good as his word.
"But why?" was the question, the one he could not answer.
"It doesn't matter. I'm doing it."
"I did tell you how I handle water."
"I'm not expecting you to go for a swim."
The sprites that had been referenced were water sprites. They'd recently invaded the nearby river and started drowning people. No reason had been given as to why, though some implication had been made that this was just their nature. His ignorance once again was putting him in unnecessary danger.
"What can you tell me about sprites?"
"They're elemental creatures," she said sourly, "almost pure magic. Like the fairy but based in a terrestrial element rather than just magic itself."
Too bad 'she' wasn't around to ask… not that it would have made much difference.
"Is it normal for them to act like this, drowning people I mean?"
"Couldn't say, never met one."
Of course not, that would be helpful.
"Any idea how to stop them."
"I'd worry more about finding them, before they find you."
The river proved easy enough to find, and even without a sprite in sight it gave him a shock. It wasn't large, maybe ten feet across and five feet deep at the lowest point, but the color, "Water is not supposed to look like that." Mud gray mixed with rust.
"Some sort of runoff," said Rosebud.
The wolf whimpered on inspecting the filthy water, shaking his head in disgust. Smart animal.
"You think this might have something to do with these attacks?"
"Maybe. If they're living in this, they'd be incorporating it as well. I can just imagine how they'd feel about that."
"Then your imagination's better than mine."
A thought struck him, a hard punch from the left. It would explain a few things. His look of disgust hardened into a scowl. Rosebud seemed to notice but he waved it off. There wasn't enough evidence. He couldn't be sure. Deal with the immediate problem.
"Let's head upriver. See what we can find."
Having passed many rivers in his recent travels he was surprised at how different this one was. Normally there was vegetation of some sort all along the banks; here there was nothing.
"This runoff isn't recent," he observed. "It would have taken some time for the local flora to look like this."
He may not have been a horticulturalist, but he'd spent enough time tending Aunt Petunia's garden to know how such things worked. A month, bare minimum. The sort of plants that would border a river were hardy things, not easily dissuaded.
"I'd be quite curious to see where this is all coming from," said Rosebud, without actually sounding all that curious.
But curious it was. Not far up the river they found what remained of an old water wheel, smashed to pieces and discarded on the shore. A few minutes later they found the mill it had come from, quiet, abandoned.
"Seems like drowning people isn't all they've been up to," the vampire remarked, keeping a healthy distance and holding her umbrella protectively.
There were bits of debris near the mill as well, and, upon further inspection, evidence of drowning.
"How long has he been there," Harry asked, fighting his stomachs natural inclination to empty.
"Hard to say," said Rosebud, poking the bloated corpse with the tip of her umbrella. "Days at least. Probably not much longer. The bodies in too good a shape for it to be longer… can you pull it out of the water please."
Unable to properly concentrate, and unwilling to go near the thing, he drew his wand and levitated it out of the water and up the beach. It dribbled and squelched sickeningly.
"Hmm, let's see. Male… about thirtyish I'd say. No other marks, lacerations, bruises."
"So, he drowned?"
"That would be my prognosis."
"Which means those sprites are probably nearby."
The vampire shrugged and continued poking and prodding the bloated corpse. Unable to stomach watching, Harry cautiously approached the river.
It was no cleaner here, in fact, the water appeared even thicker, like chunky soup.
"Disgusting," as if he didn't have enough things turning his stomach.
Squatting down to examine the water he noticed odd ripples on the far shore. A wake began to move across the river surface; something was coming towards him. It baffled him that anything could be alive in this water, and the wake wasn't large. Whatever it was seemed an unlikely threat.
He stood and readied his wand anyway.
The wake reached his side of the river and began moving in circles. It was impossible to see beneath the surface to whatever was creating it, curiosity got the better of him. He drew closer, leaning over, ready to withdraw.
The hand leapt out before he could, dragging him into the filthy river.
He broke the surface gasping for air, looking around frantic for the thing that attacked him. He felt rather than saw when it tried again to drag him under, and then there were others. He wasn't sure how he knew, but the effort to pull him beneath the water lacked coordination, it came from every direction and moved in every direction.
He struggled against them, but they seemed to be without limit, whenever he shook one off two more would latch on. By the time he thought to scream for help it was too late, his head was below the water and they were all piling on.
He felt the wand in his hand and desperately sought for something to do with it, but he couldn't think. His mind went foggy, then dark.
He woke feeling heavy, and wet.
He heaved upward, expelling water as he gasped for air.
"I hope you learned your lesson."
The chastising voice of the vampire was like the bells of angels in his ears.
"Thank—you," he coughed through gasps of air.
"It would seem we have found what we were looking for."
"Have we?"
It took a moment to see straight again. The first thing he saw was a smirking little vampire. The second was bigger, bloated, and standing upright.
"What the…"
"Not bad, yes?" she said, clearly proud of her creation.
"That was, I mean, he was…" it was hard getting his thoughts in order, whether it was the near-death experience or the zombie standing in front of him to blame who could say.
"We're lucky we found him. I had him drag you out of the river when those sprites tried to drown you."
"Sprites!" Adjusting his view to the filthy river, he saw what may have been mistaken for people coasting across the river. "Those are the water sprites?"
They were roughly female human in shape and composed entirely of the filthy river water. They floated across the surface half formed as though they were partially submerged, circling, watching.
"They don't look happy."
"You should've seen them when he was dragging you out. They tried to follow him up the beach."
"They can do that?"
She shook her head, "They appear to be bound to the water, with some control over it. They pushed the river over this direction till it was clear they wouldn't be able to catch him. Now they're just circling."
"But why?"
It was the most relevant question. Why were they doing it, any of it? Was it just their nature?
"So, are we ready to give up, now that we've been nearly drown once?"
No longer hacking and coughing, Harry gave the little vampire a grin, "Give up, how do you do that?"
"I was afraid you'd say something like that," she replied with an overdramatic sigh. "I hope you have some kind of idea. I count at least twenty of them, though it is hard to tell."
"I think I might actually," he said, adopting a thoughtful expression. "Just need a couple things from my bag."
He felt their stare when he approached the river. They circled faster, tossing up filthy spray.
"I see you," he said more to himself than the angry sprites.
The bottle in his hand felt heavy, it weighed his reluctance. His plan was solid, but it was difficult to be confident. He had just been nearly killed, if not for Rosebud, and for such a stupid reason. Clearly his encounter with the dragon had left him with unrealistic ideas on his own mortality. Not anymore.
"Well, here I am. Come get me!"
He was still several feet from the water but close enough to feel the spray they were throwing up. Circling and watching they made no apparent move to attack, just circled faster and faster.
"Well, come on. I thought you wanted me. Do I have to get in there with you?"
He didn't know if they understood him so he just assumed they could. It made him feel less like he was just yelling to build up his own confidence.
Faster and faster they circled, paying him no apparent heed but for the eyes he could still feel. It struck him nearly too late, exactly what they were doing.
The swirling waterspout rose from the river like an angry serpent, spinning like a tornado. It shot up, arcing high into the air before descending on him like a big wet drill.
He almost flinched. Feet shifting beneath him dug into the soft ground and a single hand flew up to defend.
It connected with force; buckling under the weight he held fast under the enormous pressure. He couldn't see what was happening, only the fact it wasn't punching through him evidenced it was working.
His plan was working.
The thought filled him with confidence and he pushed back against the weight, standing back to his full height as the attack finished and the water spout broke off the river, the last of it swiftly drawing through the filter bulb and into the old enchanted sherry bottle.
He heard the slow clap as he opened the bulb to dump out the filtered filth.
"Very good, eight points."
"Just eight?"
"You lose two for not doing that from the start and nearly getting killed."
He hung his head, "Yeah… yeah," it was hard to argue with her reasoning.
"So, what did you do, exactly? Are they all in that bottle?"
"Yep," he said, corking the bottle, "and they can stay there for now."
He didn't know what the purifier might have done with them, but so long as they were in the bottle, they couldn't hurt anyone.
"I suppose you'll go back and tell everyone what you did then?"
He didn't miss the hint of derision in her tone; it reminded him of something else. "Not yet."
"Not yet?"
He shook his head, "One other thing I need to do first."
Once that was done, he returned to the village. Everyone paused in their work when they saw him coming. Someone ran ahead to inform the headman he'd returned so the big man met him at the door while the rest of the village walked.
"You're back?" he didn't seem surprised.
"Your sprites have been dealt with. They won't be a problem anymore."
A murmur ran through the crowd and the headman smiled a toothy smile. "Well, that is good news. Never doubted you for a second my good wizard."
Jovially he slung his arm around Harry's shoulder, bending Harry under his weight. "You know, I had a feeling when I first saw you. Glad to see I was right."
"Yeah, well," Harry hedged uncomfortably. "Just glad I could help."
The headman laughed at his humility, "I do believe I promised you a reward. Why don't we just head inside now and take care of that."
Taking his heavy arm off Harry's shoulder he gently pushed the young wizard toward the door. Said wizard hadn't taken but two steps when the wrongness hit him like a flying cod. He turned just in time for the knife to slash open his side.
"Gah!"
He stumbled back as the big man lunged with surprising speed. A wall halted Harry's retreat and the big man threw all his weight behind the knife. It pushed through the wall all the way to the hilt and he struggled to free it when he realized the wizard wasn't on it.
"There he is," shouted one of the villagers as Harry reappeared from his short apparition.
A pitchfork was thrust in his face, forcing him to duck and roll. Several rocks were thrown in support of the pitchfork and yet another was brought out to harass him as the headman finally recovered his knife and came at Harry again.
"Why are you doing this?" Harry demanded. "I helped you."
"Aye, that you did," the big man said, "And we do appreciate that. But you're a wizard see, can't trust wizards."
The words stung, even more than the pain in his side which slowed his movement when they came at him again.
"Please," he begged, "don't do this."
"Filthy wizard," someone shouted.
"Heathen magic user," cried someone else.
"There's no use begging," said the headman, circling like a hunting cat. "Only one thing to be done with abominations, and that's what all wizards are."
The accusation froze him in his tracks. His panic melted away and the look of fear became a stony scowl. "You know what else wizards are?"
A brilliant flash split the sky and the roof of the headman's house exploded into flame.
"Not to be trifled with."
The villagers screamed, cowering away from the wizard whose green eyes flashed with menace in the light of the storm.
The headman stared, the knife quivering in his hand. "You—you don't scare me!"
The shake of the blade and ball squeezing shrillness of his tone suggested otherwise.
"Are you afraid of your house burning down?" Harry asked.
A moments confusion was followed by someone screaming again. People scurried and scampered as the flames spread from the roof down the sides of the building. Buckets were called for but by the time a proper line could be formed from the well to the fire, the building was fully engulfed.
Harry stood at the edge of the village watching them fail to beat back the blaze. He stared grimly when the fire jumped to the next nearest building and began devouring the straw roof like a starving goat from hell.
He turned his back as the screams grew louder, walking away into the spreading darkness to the rumble of thunder overhead.
"You know I hate to say I told you so."
"Then don't."
The little vampire sighed. "Still, that lightning bolt was quite impressive."
"I didn't do that."
The lightning had been pure coincidence, he'd simply used it to his advantage.
"I guess mother nature likes you today."
The rising wind carrying the scent of rain cast some doubts on that. "We need to find somewhere to make camp. As far from this place as we can get."
"I suppose you wouldn't go back to that mining camp. It is empty after all."
Yes, it was. The sprites had been thorough in killing those that had polluted their river. The bloated corpse that had dragged him to safety was but one of several. The others had all washed up on shore well before reaching the mill.
Given the condition of the river and the freshness of the corpses Harry had surmised they hadn't been dead long, and Rosebud agreed.
"I'd rather not risk it," was a poor excuse but he was in no mood to do better.
"Yes, I suppose not." She wasn't buying it, but she wasn't willing to argue. "Well, on we go then. There's still a few hours before night properly sets in. With any luck we can find something before then, or if worse comes to worse, we can hide under the wagon… you can unshrink it, right?"
A sort of grin peeked through his troubled scowl, "Probably," he said to the fretting little vampire.