Tales of Ethshar

vial of blood.

The apparition stooped to stare at her hand, and she snatched it away before he could see just how small the cut really was.

“He took my blood,” she said. “I’m sure he’s going to do something terrible with it.”

“He took your blood,” Deru said thoughtfully. “Anything else? Hair? Tears?”

She blinked at him, startled; this wasn’t the reaction she had expected. She decided she had better tell the truth — more or less.

“Yes,” she said. “He tortured me until I cried, then caught my tears with a cloth and a little jar.” The “torture” had just been shouting and teasing, but she didn’t see any need to admit that.

The misty figure nodded.

“Well, that’ll be some relief to your father, anyway.”

“That I was tortured?” Then she realized what he had said. “My father?”

Deru nodded. “Your parents sent me,” he said. “Didn’t I say that?”

“No, you didn’t!” Kirna felt cheated; this ghostly figure hadn’t come from the Wizards’ Guild after all. Then she remembered the rest of the conversation. “You think they’ll be relieved that I was tortured?”

“No, they’ll be relieved that Gar was collecting your tears,” he said. “Normal tears aren’t worth anything, but a virgin’s tears are used in at least half a dozen different spells. If Gar was collecting yours, then he didn’t rape you.”

Somehow Kirna found that annoying. “Yet,” she said. “He still might, now that he’s filled that jar!”

“I suppose he might, at that,” Deru agreed. “Virgin’s blood and hair and tears are all valuable, but so are various parts of unborn children.”

Kirna’s eyes widened in horror. “He wouldn’t!”

“Well, people do,” Deru said. “And if he kidnapped a princess, who knows what he might do? On the other hand, he might just keep you here and murder your parents — there are a few very powerful spells that call for the tears of a virgin queen, rather than just any virgin. Those spells are beyond my abilities, but maybe Gar knows them...”

Kirna shrieked. “Murder my parents?”

“The Guild wouldn’t approve, but...”

“No! You need to stop him!”

“The easiest way for me to do that would be to take you home,” Deru said. “I’m sure that if you were safely back at Quonmor Keep, with guards all around you, that he wouldn’t bother — he’d find an easier target.”

“Take me home!” Kirna said.

“I’d be glad to,” Deru said. “The question is, how do we get you out of here? Do you think Gar would just let you go, if you asked?”

Kirna stared at him. “Haven’t you heard anything I’ve told you?” she said. “He kidnapped me and dragged me here and locked me up and tortured me!”

Deru sighed. “But he might have just wanted the blood and tears. He’s got those now, so maybe he’ll let you go.”

“You’re crazy!” Kirna said. “He intends to keep me here forever, I’m sure of it!”

Actually, Gar had said something about sending her home in the morning, but she wasn’t about to admit that. She had failed to impress Gar, but perhaps this other wizard, this Deru, might be more amenable. Perhaps, once they were out of this awful tower, she could convince him to run away with her, so they could marry and have adventures and he could teach her all his magic.

Maybe she could even get him to kill Gar! A wizards’ duel, fought over her — she shivered with excitement at the thought.

Deru sighed. “Well, you’re probably right. I’ll just have to get you out of here without him knowing it.”

“Oh.” Her excitement dimmed. That meant no duel.

But still, it would be a dramatic rescue that might lead to romance.

“How?” she asked.

“Leave that to me,” he said.

Then he vanished.

“Hai!” she called. “Where are you?”

No one answered.

* * *

Deru stepped out through the locked door of the third-floor chamber, back out into the stairwell, ignoring Kirna’s calls.

He suspected the princess was embellishing her story somewhat; he still didn’t think Gar had brutally kidnapped her and dragged her away, as she alleged. The Wizards’ Guild forbade its members to interfere with any sort of royal succession, and kidnapping a princess would qualify; Deru had trouble believing Gar would openly defy that rule. To do so was suicidal, and Gar didn’t appear to be sufficiently deranged.

Besides, how could he have done it without being noticed — and without putting a single mark on her face? Deru had studied her briefly before becoming visible — he was in no hurry, since the Cloak of Ethereality lasted a predetermined length of time and he could not remove it for hours yet, so he had taken a few minutes to explore the tower and look over the princess. He hadn’t seen a bruise or scratch anywhere on her, except for the one little incision on her hand.

But Gar had locked her in, and collected blood and tears and hair — and besides, it would make a much better story to carry out a magical rescue than to simply walk her home, and it would be easier to collect a huge fee if he had a good story to tell.

Deru drifted invisibly up the stairs to Gar’s workshop, and peered in at his fellow wizard.

There was no need to do anything to Gar; he appeared to be settled in for the evening, and if Kirna disappeared he probably wouldn’t notice anything until morning.

And when he did notice, he probably wouldn’t do anything about it. After all, Kirna was Crown Princess of Quonmor, and the Wizards’ Guild had rules against meddling with royalty. If Deru could just get the girl out of the tower, that should be the end of Gar’s involvement. And after that, it was only twelve miles back to Quonmor Keep; that wouldn’t be a difficult walk.

Deru looked past Gar at the open window; the cool outside air was stirring the curtains slightly, and the light of the greater moon tinted the white muslin orange. Somewhere in the forest outside the tower an owl hooted.

It all seemed peaceful enough. There was no point in being unnecessarily complicated; all he had to do was get Kirna out of the tower. He had come prepared for that — he had brought the materials he needed for Riyal’s Transformation, and had even prepared the oakleaf-tea countercharm in advance.

He allowed himself to sink through the floor, back to Kirna’s room, to wait for the Cloak’s spell to break.

* * *

There was no flash or bang; one moment Kirna was lying in bed, half-asleep but kept awake by wondering about her mysterious ghostly visitor, alone in her candle-lit room, and the next instant a curly-haired young man in a blue silk cloak was standing next to her, holding a finger to his lips.

Her eyes opened wide; she flung off the blanket and sat up. “You’re back!” she said.

“Yes, I am,” he said, his voice low. “And in a few hours we’ll be out of here and on our way back to Quonmor.”

“A few hours?”

“Yes,” he said. “We’ll be going out that window.” He pointed.

“But it’s barred,” Kirna said. “Are you going to turn me into a ghost like you?”

He shook his head. “No, that spell only works on wizards, but I brought another that can affect us both. It