White Plume Mountain

piece of hide her own. Sitting happily behind the Justicar’s neck, shehad stitched and cut and sewed all morning, hoping that he would notice the activity. The man remained silent for three solid hours-hours enlivened by thechatter of the faerie at his back. Escalla put a last few finishing touches upon her handiwork, cast aside her stained old woollen clothes, and happily dressed herself in real finery.

The chlamys felt softer than a lover’s tongue. Escalla drewlong leggings up her thighs, paused for a moment to admire herself in a mirror image spell, then bent over to check the fit of her new costume and smack her own behind.

“Oooh, there are hearts breaking in the enchanted foresttonight!”

Even more pleased with herself than usual, Escalla whirred up into the air and hovered ahead of the marching Justicar. She struck a lithe, stretching pose in midair.

“Ta-daah! Real clothes! So how do I look?”

The girl wore long fingerless gloves that reached to her upper arms. Long leggings and a tiny corselet that would have gotten her arrested if she were three feet taller completed her attire. The faerie made a pirouette in midair, quite pleased with the fact that the velvety leathers fit her body like a second skin.

“So? Do you like it?”

The Justicar had stopped walking. He examined Escalla, wrinkled his nose, and then went back to his march.

“You look like an elven trollop.”

“These are adventure clothes.” Somewhat miffed,Escalla flew beside the man and threw him a haughty sideways glance. “Adventurers are supposed to be all toned and wear tight leather.”

“So do trollops.” The Justicar took a closer look at theexpanses of exposed pixie-skin. “Did the fact that winter is coming sink intoyour mind?”

“Hey, I can accessorize!” Escalla flipped up Cinders’ longtail and wound it about her like a stole. “Sexiest thing you ever saw. Am Iright?”

Her only answer from the man came as sigh of annoyance. He tried to ignore her and kept tramping along the road.

“We’re getting near the city now. Turn invisible and stopmaking a spectacle of yourself.”

The faerie let Cinders’ tail drop out of her hands.Unamused, she hovered in midair and folded up her arms.

“So I’m guessing you’re a really specialized ranger, right?Did they not go much for merriment and social interaction at ranger school?”

“We are about to enter the city.” The Justicar deliberatelyignored the faerie flying at his side. “The last thing we want our enemy to dois to discover the whereabouts of their favorite pixie.”

Escalla gave the man a frosty toss of her hair.

“Hey, I’m a faerie, remember? Not a pixie,thank you very much.”

“What’s the difference?”

“A faerie is a pixie who’s learned discipline and ambition.”Escalla lifted up her chin, her eyes slitted in pride. “Pixies are likesparrows, but faeries…?” The girl looked at one of her slim, perfectlymilk-white arms and gave a satisfied sigh. “Faeries are like falcons.”

The Justicar grabbed the girl and tucked her out of sight. “Well why don’t you falcon-well shut up!”

“Hey! No one touches the faerie!” Escalla jerked out ofthe human’s grasp and sat herself back down atop his backpack. “You are such anannoying twerp!”

“I’m cut deep by that one.” The Justicar had always valued alife of introspection and blessed quiet. Between teamsters and faeries, he seemed condemned to have his ears battered by brainless natterings. “For thelast time: Get out of sight, keep your ears open, and shut up.”

Escalla slyly touched the corner of her mouth with her tongue, then silkily slid closer.

“All right, here’s the deal. Half an hour of goldensilence-at a time of your choosing- if you tell me what your real nameis.”

“What?”

“Cross my heart!” The faerie sat up and crisscrossed herbreasts with a fingertip. “You can store it up in credit to use bits of it atneed. Just tell Escalla your name. Come on, you can do it!”

The ranger stood in the road and seethed. He flexed his fists and imagined a hundred thousand dire fates for the scrawny little faerie on his back.

“I hate pixies!”

“Come on! Tell the faerie your name!”

The ranger mumbled something inaudible under his breath and began to move on. Sparking instantly in interest, Escalla put a hand to one of her long pointed ears and leaned in closer.

“What was that? Hmm?”

“Evelyn!” Embarrassed, the Justicar stamped one foot inchildish annoyance. “There, all right. Are you happy? I was raised byvillagers who happened to like the name.”

Sensing a nerve laid bare, Escalla opened her hands in hasty protest. “Hey, I never said a word! Evelyn is…” The faerie tried to searchfor something sufficient to say while desperately trying to keep a straight face. “It’s a wonderful name! Evelyn… Good, fast, powerful. I mean,I just hear that and I say, ‘Tough-guy ranger’!”

“Shut up!”

“Hey, you’re the boss… Evelyn.”

Basking happily in the sun, Cinders gave a wheezing sound of glee. Evelyn! Funny!

Growling, the Justicar marched his way down the road toward the city.

His original name had been a gift from villagers who were now withered dust and bones. In the aftermath of war, the Justicar had created a new identity, a purpose that defined him, a role to be followed with unforgiving intensity. He had labored for years to purify the world of the unworthy, the parasites who slaughtered innocents for their own monetary gain. “The Justicar”embodied everything he had achieved, everything he wanted to be.

“Don’t call me Evelyn!”

“Hey!” The pixie touched her heart. “Never slip my lipsagain. Our secret, you and me.” The girl relaxed across the top of his skull.“So, Ev, what’s our plans in the city?”

“And don’t call me Ev!”

“How about Jus?” The girl flew on her back in front of thehuman with her hands pillowing her head. “Come on! We’re partners, right? Ican’t go around calling you the Justicar!”

The Justicar was too tired with the whole subject to fight it any longer.

The faerie whirred around and settled cross-legged upon his shaven head. “So, Jus, what do we do in the city? How do we find this guy?”

The man weighed the badger skin hanging from his belt. The results were not comforting.

“It had better only take a few nights. I now have preciselytwelve nobles left.”

Escalla made an airy wave. “No problem. We can get more.”

“No thieving!”

The girl pantomimed total innocence as though the thought had never crossed her mind. Glaring, the ranger halted at a hummock by the road. He rummaged in his backpack, inadvertently tickling Cinders.

Preening herself, Escalla hovered just above a thistle bloom. “So, bristle-boy! How do we track this sorcerer down? Even if I can recognizehim, we still have to find him.”

“We can deduce a lot about him from what we already know.Someone is arranging to ambush vital supplies heading to the border colonies. Whoever it is, he’s not highly placed enough to simply find out the caravanroutes at the court or from the military, so we won’t have to go penetratinghigh society.”

“Oh good. I was wanting to broach a few thoughts on changing your personaldress habits.” Escalla caught a stinging glare from the Justicar and held up herhands. “Fine! Right, hell hound skin, shaven head, skull sword. The look’sdefinitely you.”

The Justicar continued his lecture. “He’s trying to keep thenorth border empty of settlements. North is