16. Follow the Red Pony

"One potion makes you stronger,
And one potion makes you know all,
And the three the wizard gave you,
Heal you but hardly at all,
Go ask Janice,
As her enemies fall..."

One long-haired bard's oily lamentations hung in the air, and with it mind-bending fumes wafted out the doors of the large carnival tent and into the night sky, but Kagain and Montaron would have none of it. They sat upon rocks outside the tent, clutching tobacco pouches and puffing their pipes.

"Fool waste o' gold," Kagain griped, looking sidelong at the tent-flaps.

Within the tent were assorted fair-goers, mostly nigh-unconscious and flopped limply over pillows. Among them was Xzar, sitting in a cross-legged lotus position, appropriately enough, hands uncurled on his knees, eyes closed.

"O great spirits of the gibbering monkey horde," the necromancer chanted, those around him lost in their own worlds, "Grant us the glittering revelations of the labyrinth of dust and bone, where the slime people circle endlessly and the grinning three-eyed skull looks down upon us all!! Ouuuuuuummmm...."

Jade sat facing him a few pillows away, sprinkling a small quantity of black lotus onto a roll of paper and furling it. She held it up between two fingers, and Xzar popped open his wild green eyes, waved his hand fluidly, and a phosphourous smell tinged the air as Jade's joint lit.

"...Ooouuumm....What? Tell her to follow the white rabbit? RABBIT!? Oh no! Terrible wisdom, o horror like thousands of vampiric gibbons, to seek out one rabbit! No, Queen of Organs, I don't care if it worked for her ! No, mirrors don't make anything better, don't you see? What did you call me? How rude...I don't wear a hat!"

The guitar-strumming bard looked up and smirked.

"And if you go chasing rabbits,
But you don't know why at all,
Tell 'em a tattooed raving necromancer,
Has given you the call,
Call Janice,
As her enemies fall!"

The young woman flipped her scarlet hair back and took a long drag, exhaled, and passed the joint to Branwen, who sat next to her and reluctantly took the joint between two fingers. The priestess held it up, appraising the foreign object, and when Jade smiled and nodded, pinched the unlit end between her lips and inhaled. Jade giggled as the woman grimaced, hacked, and hastily shoved it back at her.

"Hedonistic and foul," Branwen managed between coughs, holding up an open palm after Jade took a drag and offered it back.

"You get to like it," Jade smiled innocently.

"I don't want to get to like it," Branwen glared.

"Hmmp," Jade pouted. "But isn't it neat, how no one here gives X the typical weird glances?" She took several more drags, closed her eyes, and exhaled slowly at the tent ceiling, while Branwen looked on, vaguely disapproving but curious. Jade looked across at Xzar again, her emerald eyes now glazed and unfocused.

"He remembered," the girl mumbled, and smiled.

"Hmm?" Branwen frowned.

Jade rambled out her all-too-brief childhood proper, with her brother and best friend as well as the future wizard, the following teen years, which centered around a training and discipline Branwen heartily approved of, and the many strange events of the past few days, and dwelled upon her strange dreams the night before - her father, the voice, the feathered lady, and the samesaid necromancer. Branwen silently wondered whether they had truly been so strange, or it was merely her new ally's affected state, but heeded her words. At length, Jade procured from her belt a small chesspiece, a knight of solid ruby. Branwen arched a blonde eyebrow.

"This morning," Jade sighed, watching the light glitter off the object. "I woke up, and Monty had laid out a bunch of gems and stuff he found overnight. Like my new sword. This caught my eye too," She exhaled, and fell back on the pillows.

"When men on the chessboard,
Are poised to show you where to go,
And you've just had some kind of flower,
And your mind is swirling, go...
Go ask Janice...
I think she'll know..."

Branwen caught the chesspiece as it slipped from Jade's hand, and studied it closely. "By Tempus's Shield!"

"What?" Jade raised an eyelid lazily.

"This can only be an omen from the Red Knight!"

"Night looks black to me..." Jade muttered. "Is it like a blue moon?"

Branwen scowled. "The Lady of Strategy! I thought you said you grew up in an enormous library?"

Jade flubbed her lips unenthusiastically.

"She is all but the daughter of my lord Tempus, and the goddess of planning and strategy."

"Not bad," Jade lifted her eyelid further.

"It is said that her importance has grown since the Time of Troubles, perhaps owing to that great shift of power, or the increasingly complex nature of war. She is logical and calm, but not without compassion or humor."

"You sound like you know her," Jade giggled.

Branwen was not amused. "It is you she has touched, Jade."

"Hocus-pocus," Jade snorted. "Besides, Monty found it. I'll bet he would like to be 'touched' by her."

The priestess crossed her arms. "Have you not told me that but too days ago you were dragged from your home, your father slain, you and your brother separated, and now you are nearly broke, running for your life from an unknown force, for unknown reasons, and on the morrow leading us into a mine which exports faulty iron but great rumors of danger?"

"Shut up!" Jade snarled, her pretty, round face twisting in angular anger. "What's your point? I'll survive! I'll succeed! I'll have revenge!"

"I only meant," Branwen sighed, "You are at war, and would do well to have strategy on your side, and to pay your respects to the Lady."

"Religion is my brother's drug," Jade snorted.

Branwen looked down at the joint between her new friend's fingertips. She looked back pointedly into her green eyes, needing to say nothing. Jade angrily smoldered it between her fingertips and tossed it away.

"You said he was a paladin?" Branwen asked.

"Yep," Jade rolled her eyes. "Good ol' wanna-be knight in shining armor." She clasped her hands together and mock-swooned.

"They say the Red Knight and Torm are...close," Branwen smirked.

"Friggin' deities..."

"Exactly..."

"Ahh!" Jade shook her head. "That's not that I meant!" She glared at Branwen. "Besides, my brother worships Lathander."

Branwen cocked her head and looked up, musing. "Respectable. Frivilous, but respectable." She thought for a second more. "The Lady's greatest enmity lies, as is not uncommon, with Cyric, whom she regards as a traitor, a liar, and," the priestess laughed, "an incompetent planner whose designs become fiascos."

"Oh mommy..." Xzar's voice wafted out of its low babblings, "...The good little flesh puppets go nappy-nappy-sleepy-sleepy-soon."

Jade glanced at the necromancer with a smile, and Branwen held the ruby knight out to her. "Keep this close, and don't let that stingy dwarf tell you to pawn it off. In fact..." Branwen withdrew her hand, moved her other under the collar of her tunic, and pulled over it a platinum necklace. Unfastening the chain, she slid one end under the horse's cheeks, the snout's dip clasping the chain against the chin. Rising to kneel behind Jade, she slipped it around the girl's head and fastened it over the nape of her neck.

"Queen-Knight to Queen-Cleric-Three," Xzar peered intently at Jade's new chain and pendant. "Always a good early move. And pretty, mommy. Matches your lips and hair."

Kagain made the predicted financial suggestion with the trio rejoined him and Montaron outside the tent, and the halfling mumbled a safely-under-his-breath comment about the new necklace's tunic-recontouring properties. The five pitched tents a 'safe' distance from the carnival, and set to prayers, studies, or merely rest for the next's days goal.

"When reason is in chaos,
And the others have fallen dead,
And the White Knight is in the mirror,
And the Black-Heart Queen's 'off with her head!'
Remember what the halfling said:
'Free your head
Free your head
Free your head'"