Chapter Thirteen
Back at the abandoned hayloft, I nudge Azul awake.
“Yes, vampire warrior?”
“Please, just call me Samantha,” I command him.
“Very well. I assume you want something?” he snaps, annoyed.
I next compel him to be more cheerful and subservient.
“How can I be of service, Samantha?” He gives me a small bow.
Oops, maybe a little too subservient. Oh, well.
Being bowed to isn’t the worst thing to see, and yeah, making another living creature perform such a humbling act feels wrong.
Then again, I am here against my will and being forced to fight for my life.
I just need to survive and get home. So yeah, this little twerp can bow to me and hold his tongue, though he is hardly the reason why I’m trapped out here.
Still, he looks like Baltazar, and that’s enough to annoy me.
“Have you ever heard of a sword powerful enough to kill the Dark One?” I ask him. “Apparently, it was used here during the Games, likely from a being of a more angelic nature.”
“My dear, Samantha. I can answer your question with some degree of certainty: any and all relics procured from the Games are held within the arena itself, in a special armory. Our king and those who run the games are very eager to display the weaponry of the fallen.”
“Protected by magic, I assume.”
“You assume correctly.”
“You may not be powerful enough to remove the teleportation spell, but I am willing to bet you are powerful enough to get me to that armory.”
Azul smiles at me, if the gash quivering at the lower half of his face is indeed a smile.
“Most wizards know enough to understand the spells behind such protection wards; indeed, I may not know the exact counter spell, but I can lift it, giving you access, though it will cost me my life. They will, of course, kill me painfully and publicly. I will be disemboweled slowly.”
“I will not let them hurt you, Azul.”
“Bless you, Moon Warrior.”
“Sam is fine.”
“Yes, Sam Warrior. I believe you will protect me. To accomplish your goal, we will need the prince with us.”
“Of course. To nullify the boundary spell,” I say, nodding.
“Yes, exactly. We have no need for the wood sprite. She is dead weight. I would be happy to incinerate her for you.”
“Uh, no. She lives and will not be harmed.”
“Understood.”
“I will need you to guide me back to the arena. Can you do that?”
“Yes, of course. Anything to help you achieve your goals.”
“My goals are simple: return home and shut down the Games.”
“Lofty and simple.”
“Let’s prepare to depart. Is the harness ready?”
“Yes, I think you will be pleased.” I have given the little wizard instructions to create a harness for me to carry himself, the wood sprite, and the prince.
“Yes, master, I mean Master Sam!”
“Just Sam.”
The little wizard nods and spins around, raising both hands.
Immediately, what appears to be two nylon straps, but are in fact composed of a local hemp-type material, rise up from the dirt and wrap around the prince, the sprite, and even Azul himself.
The long swatch secures all three and ties itself up into a single loop that I can hold in one hand, keeping my other free for the ice sword if need be.
And maybe even the Devil Killer, if we get lucky.