White Plume Mountain

pixie. The naked girl frozein terror, helpless to do anything but watch the arrow come straight for her throat.

The Justicar moved with a speed almost too fast to see. His sword cleared the scabbard quicker than thought and cut the arrow out of the air. Both halves of the dart passed to either side of the pixie’s face, and shesank numbly down onto her knees.

The second assassin leaped the rails and whipped out a short sword well coated in a greenish, sticky venom. He ran at the Justicar, who dropped to one knee and flicked his sword to strike the assassin’s blade away.The assassins short sword fell, ringing on the ground, and the Justicar instantly punched with his fist, the blow lifting the man up and slamming him down five paces away.

The assassin flashed to his feet, whipped back a hand that suddenly held a throwing knife-

And then screamed as a thundering blast of fire wrapped him in agony from head to toe.

Burn! Burn-burn-burn!

“Cinders! Damn it!”

The assassin would have been the spy’s contact-the next stepin the chain that led to the mastermind. Now the man was bubbling like a well-done roast, and the whole upper deck was aflame. Cinders had managed to set the entire promenade on fire, and strings of burning bunting fell to spread the blaze all across the lower levels of the barge. The management was definitely going to be annoyed.

The Justicar sheathed his sword, snatched the dazed pixie in his arms, and held the creature tight against his chest.

“Do you like water?”

“No!”

“Good.”

With a heavy bound, the man launched himself across the rails and plunged thirty feet down into the icy river. The pixie wailed, then disappeared amid the splash as the Justicar, his hell hound skin, his black sword, and his armor all speared deep into the water. Swimming with slow, powerful strokes, the Justicar traveled underwater for a dozen yards then broke the surface, letting the struggling pixie take a breath. The man looked back once at the blazing pleasure barge and then grimly struck out toward the northern shore.

4

“Now I’m not saying that I have always been exactly good,but I have tried, in my way, to lead a life devoted to certain positive principles.” Remaining perfectly calm, the pixie tried to let reason speakfor itself. “So although on the surface some of my actions might appearquestionable, I can assure you that I have always been pure at heart.” Thelittle creature shot a dark sideways glance at her companions. “Look, are youlistening to me or what?”

Soaked, dark, and glowering, the Justicar collected twigs and branches and stacked them in a pile. Cinders helpfully shot a small flame jet into the kindling, and a sturdy campfire was instantly ablaze. Bound hand and foot and dangling helplessly above the ground, the pixie anxiously watched as yet more wood was stacked upon the fire.

“Um, all right, I am aware that I have not been… as goodas I should. However, I believe I can try to be better.”

The flames crackled as more and more wood was tossed into the suspiciously large blaze.

“Look! Would you stop doing that while I’m talking to you?”

The lands north of the River Franz were largely covered in fern and marsh. Autumn had broken the riverbanks and flooded the low-lying fields beyond. What in summer were tangled thickets and little hillocks had now become a maze of islands stranded amongst knee-deep, freezing ferns. The Justicar had waded doggedly onward for at least two hours, leaving the river, burning pleasure barge, and vengeful pursuers far behind. With an hour to go before evening, he had finally climbed onto an islet, cut down some bushes, and dangled his captive from a tree.

Helpless in the clutches of a huge, violent man and a pyromaniacal sentient dog skin, the pixie could only kick her heels and jitter in despair. With her hands tied, she could cast no spells, and if she shifted shape, the dog skin would smother her in flame. This left only her considerable powers of persuasion, which would have been more comforting if her captor would perhaps deign to even look her way.

The flames rose higher, spreading heat across the little island. The Justicar planted two forked sticks, one at each end of the fire, then glared at the pixie and began to shave a long, thin sapling into a spit.

Beginning to sweat a little in fright, the pixie gave a squirm. “Look, I’m sure we can make some kind of deal. I mean, you’re with theforces of good, right? And… and I’m a faerie, and faeries are cute, lovablelittle icons of forest fun, right? So… so there’s a joining of interestsright there, huh?”

The Justicar rose, holding his sturdy spit as he marched toward the pixie. He slapped the rod in his hand as he walked, and the pixie’stwin antennae stood madly on end.

“Um, look, you’re a reasonable man. I can see that. Soperhaps it’s time we just came to a logical arrangement?”

The Justicar drew a knife from his belt, cut the pixie from her perch and shoved the skewer up through the back of her bonds. The girl dangled beneath the stick like a rabbit trussed for roasting and instantly began to kick and squeal.

“Oh no! Oh no-no-no-no-no! Faeries have a curse on them,you know! You eat a faerie and-ooooh-and you’ll go sterile! No sex drive at all,I swear!” The pixie wriggled frantically as she was carried toward the fire.“And you’ll get fat!” The girl tried to shrink down to the bottom of the stake.“You’ll get eczema, plus your eyesight will go! A-all food will taste exactlylike week-old ham!”

“Shut up.” The Justicar seated himself by the fire, holdingthe trussed, naked pixie up in the air. “You’re annoying. All pixies areannoying.”

“Oh my goodness, it’s a vision of Saint Cuthbert!” The pixiestared in amazement off into the empty scrub. “It’s a sign from the gods! I’mconverted to the good life from now on, Good be praised!”

The Justicar jammed the bottom of the pixie-stick into the sod, propping the little creature comfortably close to the fire.

“Shut up. Get warm. Keep quiet,”

The pixie relaxed, her breast heaving a little as she was slowly drained of her fright. The Justicar had taken a knife and sawed the bottom off his own coarse tunic. He began cutting the cloth into a rough, pixie-sized dress, and looked damned annoyed to be doing so. The man’s armor hadbeen hung out so that its felt lining could dry.

Casting a quick eye left and right, the pixie quite suddenly felt safe. “Sure, I’ll keep quiet. My name is Escalla, by the way. That’sPrincess Escalla or Lady Escalla. Sometimes Your Highness or Brightflower Maid. Or-or a pet name? I mean, you could even give me a petname.”

The Justicar glared at his captive through cold, dark eyes. “Pixie.”

“Uh, yeah…”The girl tried to coax a little morecooperation out of her host. “Or maybe a more bonding kinda term?”

“How’s about fishbait?”

The pixie hastened to agree. “Endearing! I mean, a sense ofhumor is good. We can laugh together now, I can see that. We have a rapport!”Escalla blew a strand of stray hair away from her face. “But about the ‘pixie’thing. Funny thing is, most people look at me and say, ‘Ooh! Pixie!’ when I’mactually a faerie. I mean, a proper name for everything, and everything done properly. Am I right?”

Having finished a rough strip of cloth to serve as a pixie dress, the Justicar glowered at the girl and hissed, “I said quiet!”

He untied the girl from the stick, roughly wrapped her torso in coarse cloth, and tied the dress in place with woollen thread. Escalla began to say thank you, only to find herself immediately bound hand and foot again and threaded right back onto her stake beside the fire. She decided to glare in annoyance at the Justicar, watching him as he drew a fishing line from his pouch and sent a line trailing off into the water.