| THE LORELEI SIGNAL |
.
| Written by James Hartley / Artwork by Holly Eddy |
| Sorceress |
Dr. Cora Lee Jones—“Curly” to her friends, because of her
mop of unruly orange ringlets—stood at the front of her
team, looking down at the artificial wormhole and its
containment field. Meters showed constant pressure and
oxygen content inside the field, verifying the theory that
the other end of the wormhole would be attracted to the
surface of an earth-like planet. She turned toward the
rest of the team. “I wonder where the other end of the
wormhole is?” she asked. It was immediately obvious she
had pressed the group’s hot button.
“Gravitational effects from the mass of the galaxy,”
Dr. Lightner was the first to answer, “must confine the
other end to somewhere in our own Milky Way galaxy.”
“Nonsense!” Dr. Anderson said with a sniff. “Hyper-
symmetry theory proves conclusively that the other end
must be at the farthest point of the universe, the opposite
end of the hyper-diameter through our lab.”
“Cool it, guys,” Dr. Jones said. “We don’t even know if it is
in our universe. Fanchon’s work with multiverses makes a
good argument that the other end might be in an alternate
plane of existence.”
By now, the argument was getting out of hand, and
nobody was watching the experiment. A red light on the
panel attracted the attention of one of the techs, and he
tried unsuccessfully to interrupt. But by the time he got
someone to listen it was too late. The containment field
had weakened and the hypersurface of the wormhole was
wobbling around, moving further and further from its
proper location. It struck Dr. Jones, and she vanished.
~ * ~
Dr. Jones was somewhere else. At least, she was no
longer in the lab. Looking around, she saw what appeared to be a medieval castle, complete with an
assortment of medieval people. Most of them were shocked by her sudden appearance in their midst and
were frantically trying to get away. A few men armed with swords were holding their ground, and one man
was approaching. He was clad in long flowing purple robes embroidered with stars and mystic symbols, and
wore a pointed hat.
Man, she thought, what a cliché! “Hail, fellow sorcerer,” she said. "I hight the sorceress, uh, Curly, and I have
been cast here by a spell that went very wrong.”
“Welcome, Kyrlie,” he replied, pronouncing it just a bit strangely. “I hight Zatarra. What can I do for a fellow
sorcerer, er, sorceress?”
Kyrlie—apparently that was going to be her name as long as she stayed here—put her arm around Zatarra’s
shoulder and said in a low voice, “I think we needs discuss this in private. It would not do to talk about
sorcerous affairs where all these common folk can hear.”
“Of course, of course.” He turned to the crowd and said, “People, go back to your affairs. Be not scared, the
sorceress Kyrlie has come to discuss many magickal matters with me and to seek my aid. She is a good
sorceress. She and I will now retire to the privacy of my laboratory.” He took Kyrlie’s hand and led her out of
the hall. “First thing we have to do, my dear, is get you some reasonable clothes. I think your strange garb
was a large part of what scared those in the Grand Hall.”
Strange garb? she thought. What’s strange about a lab coat over jeans and a t-shirt? What should I be wearing?
She soon found out, much to her dismay.
Zatarra dropped her off in a room with a bunch of giggling servant girls who did their worst. “Dress her as a
princess,” he instructed them, then left. When he returned she was wearing a very uncomfortable brass bra,
and long heavy skirts which she intensely disliked…except they covered up the fact this world had never
invented feminine undergarments. They were going to simply discard her other clothes, but she threw a
tantrum and had them bundled up to take with her.
Zatarra led her to the top of the highest tower, and opened a very heavy oak door. The room would have
looked like a modern chemistry lab, work benches and shelves filled with jars of reagents, if it hadn’t been for
a number of skeletons hanging from the rafters.
Zatarra led her over to a pair of overstuffed chairs and gestured for her to sit. He sat in the other, then said,
“Now, tell me who you really are, and how you got here. I know all the sorcerers in the world, and you are not
one of them.”
Kyrlie thought quickly about what to say. The truth, she decided, but put in words this man could deal with.
“Zatarra,” she said, “I come from another world, much like yours in many ways but different in others.
‘Sorceress’ is the closest I can come to my title there, ‘Relativistic Astrophysicist.’ I, and some of my
apprentices, were working on a spell called ‘Wormhole” that will let one go from world to world. But it broke
the pentacle we had confined it in, and grabbed me, and threw me here.”
“Ah, I see,” Zatarra said, but the glazed look in his eyes showed he had not understood one word in ten.
“Can you cast this ‘Wormhole’ again and return to your world?”
“I fear not, noble Zatarra. It requires the aid of the demon ‘Nuclear Power’ who must be invoked with the
sacred metals, Uranium and Plutonium. Have you supplies of those on hand?”
“Er, no, I have never heard of Uran-i-a-mum. Perhaps you must learn the spells of our world to get back.”
“Excellent!” Kyrlie said. “The very thing. Since I am a skilled sorceress in my own world it will be easy for me to
learn the magick of yours.” But to herself, she thought, Ye gods. Magick! I’m going to learn magick? If I ever do
get back, I’ll be damned if I tell them how I managed it! I’d get laughed out of the university. Magick!
Over the next few weeks Kyrlie threw herself into her magick lessons with Zatarra’s help. To her own
amazement, in this world magick worked and she proved to be very proficient at it. She was soon casting
spells as powerful as Zatarra’s. But the more she learned, the more she noticed Zatarra shying away from
certain areas, and keeping her away from certain parts of the lab, especially a large locked cabinet with
symbols and runes all over it.
Keeping her ears open, she gathered as much information as she could. She noticed when she spoke openly
of Zatarra to anyone, the response was always glowing praise. But snatches of conversation heard from
around a corner or behind a piece of furniture were far less favorable. This was especially true when a certain
warrior named Noroth was concerned.
Noroth was fully six feet six tall and marvelously muscled. He had tousled blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a
cleft chin, but he had the intelligence of a rock. When she got to know him, she estimated he had an IQ of
about 77. Noroth was always friendly to Kyrlie, with a cheerful “Duh, hi” when they met. She treated him
nicely, almost as one might treat a friendly dog, but she had no real interest in him. Except, of course, for
curiosity about what had happened to him. The official story was he had been hit by a crossfire of spells
during a battle, and it had left him in that condition.
Kyrlie had made friends with Andreth, one of the older women, and finally persuaded her to talk. “Aye,”
Andreth said, “it was in the battle right enough. But the damage was done by Zatarra, who has always hated
Noroth. Zatarra’s spell reduced Noroth to what he is now, but Zatarra is the one spreading the story it was
four spells at once. And spreading the story that there is no magick in the world that can cure him.” She spat
on the floor. “Zatarra!”
~ * ~
Kyrlie was finishing her magick lesson in Zatarra’s lab when he told her, “Better take a couple of books to
study in your quarters. I am going to a meeting of sorcerers, I’ll be gone a week or so. And of course you
won’t be able to get in the lab.”
“Of course,” she replied. “But why can’t I go to this meeting with you?”
“No, you’re not a member of the Sorcerer’s Guild. You have no background, no history, the Guild would
suspect you of being a demon. I will bring your case up before the Guild’s High Council, but it will take time.”
Kyrlie picked up a few magick books she was currently studying and they left the lab. She noticed Zatarra
didn’t bother with such a mundane thing as a key, he just cast a locking spell on the door. She knew one of
the books she carried had a long section on locking and opening spells, and she had been doing well in her
practice with those.
The next day, after Zatarra had left, she made her way quietly to the tower and set to work on the door. It
took only a few minutes to determine which spell had been used, and a few more to overcome it. As the door
swung open, she slipped inside and closed it behind her. She headed directly for the special cabinet Zatarra
kept locked all the time.
The cabinet door took no more time than the room door had, and soon Kyrlie got a look at Zatarra’s secrets.
Shrunken heads, vials of graveyard dirt, a Hand of Glory…all tools for working Black Magick, tools of evil. On a
stand in the center of the cabinet was a Black Grimoire, open to a spell…a spell to becloud the mind of an
enemy! “Damn!” she muttered to herself. “I bet that’s the spell he used on Noroth.”
She looked through the book for a counterspell, but didn’t find one. Then she noticed a line of almost invisibly
small print at the bottom of the page. Squinting at it, she could make out that it said “Reversible only by the
Ultimate Magick.”
She straightened the book and locked the cabinet, being careful to set a spell on it identical to the one she
had found. She left the room, taking similar precautions with its lock, and returned to her quarters to think.
~ * ~
When Zatarra returned, Kyrlie greeted him, then asked, “Did you find out anything that might get me home?”
“Alas, no. Your world is unknown to us, it is not mentioned in any of our grimoires and spellbooks. We even
conjured a demon at one of our sessions, a demon who is supposed to know all about Earth, Heaven, and
Hell. He knew aught of your world, or where it might lie. And if we don’t know where to send you, we cannot
send you home.”
“Damn!”
“But wait, there is a faint chance which one of my fellows reminded me of. In the Forlorn Mountains, in a cave
at the top of Misty Peak, is said to lie the Ultimate Magick. Few have seen it, I never have. Legend holds that
any sorcerer may visit there once in a lifetime and make a wish, and the Ultimate Magick will make it so.”
“How do I get to this place?”
“I am not sure, but I will find out for you.”
~ * ~
Asking around the Palace, Kyrlie found few who had ever heard of the Forlorn Mountains or the Misty Peak. Of
those who had, all said they were far away, perhaps a month’s journey, perhaps a year’s. So when Zatarra
told her she could walk there in a week, she was suspicious. She also noticed him talking frequently with Sir
Draco, a minor prince of the kingdom. She resolved to be wary when setting out for the Forlorn Mountains.
Unfortunately she was not wary enough. And, of course, she might have chosen differently if the demon had
appeared in the palace before she left.
~ * ~
Dr. Lightner and Dr. Anderson brought up the wormhole, with its enhanced confinement field, for the first time
since Dr. Jones had vanished. The robot, on the end of its armored cable, moved forward until it touched the
hypersurface of the wormhole. The robot vanished, but the cable remained, twisting into the wormhole and
then off in some impossible direction that gave one a headache to look at closely. After a moment the screens
lit up, showing the view from the robot’s cameras. From the speakers came screams and cries of “Demon!”
They had only moments before something hit the robot and everything went dark and silent. The cable, its
end severed, slithered back out of the wormhole and dropped to the floor.
“Anybody see anything?” asked Dr. Lightner. “And was Curly anywhere in the field of view?”
“Didn’t get a good look, but I think several men drew swords and chopped the hell out of our robot,” Dr.
Anderson answered. “I don’t think Curly was there, that hair would be hard to miss. We’ll have to watch the
recordings in slo-mo to be sure.”
“So what do we do now?” Dr. Harris asked.
“Considering how hard it was to get the money for this probe, I doubt if there’s anything more we can do.
They’ll never fund another one,” Dr. Lightner said. “If Curly is still alive there, I’m afraid she’s going to be on
her own getting back.”
~ * ~
As Kyrlie adjusted her brass bra and waited to be rescued, she thought to herself, What a pain! Why in hell do
I have to wait for some muscle-bound jock to get me out of a jam? She mentally kicked herself again for falling
for Zatarra’s trap, for letting herself be captured and thrown into this dungeon. But her captor, Sir Draco, held
her in such contempt he left her with her pack—after, of course, he took the small amount of gold she had.
She was able to cast a “Rescue Me” spell, but she had no idea who would respond or how soon.
She wiggled the brass cups again, trying to find a comfortable fit. The damn things came in a limited number
of sizes and it was a rare girl who exactly filled them. If Kyrlie had her way she would have gotten a larger
size—so what if her boobs might flop around a little inside them. But no, they always gave you bras that were
too small, so there would be a bulge of flesh around the edges.
Just then there was a loud noise down the corridor, presumably her rescuer. She quickly put her pack on so
she would be ready to leave. A few hacked-off arms and legs in Gaoler’s uniforms flew by the door. Then she
could see her alleged hero outside the cell door, swinging a huge mace to shatter the lock. Kyrlie jumped back
as fragments of door rained down in the cell, then ducked in earnest as the massive head of the mace sped
across the room and crashed into the opposite wall.
Noroth—Kyrlie had somehow known it would be him—entered the cell, still holding the broken haft of the
mace. “Hey, Kyrlie,” he said in his profound basso voice, “watchoo doon here? Duh, you wanna get
reskyooed?”
Kyrlie rolled her eyes. “Yes, Noroth, my hero, I was just waiting here for you. Otherwise I would have picked
that lock with a bobby pin and left hours ago, you big ape!”
Noroth looked confused, as he usually did. Slowly his face cleared and he smiled. “Duh, that’s nicea yoo ta
wait fer me.” Then, before she could move he grabbed her around the waist, picked her up under his left arm,
and marched out of the cell with her. She ducked and barely managed to miss getting her head bashed
against the door frame.
I wonder how he’d feel, Kyrlie thought, if I took off this brass bra, and jammed it on him as a brass jock cup? She
resolved to try it if she ever got the opportunity.
Noroth battled his way, swinging his mighty sword, out of the dungeons, up the many flights of stairs, and
out of the castle. When he reached the woods his opponents finally gave up the chase and allowed him to
make more speed along the path.
Unfortunately it was the wrong path, and it was several hours before they located Noroth’s campsite. Kyrlie,
sore all over from being carried under the warrior’s arm for all that time, sank to the ground with a loud
groan. Why, she thought, do I put up with this bozo?
Noroth was fumbling around, chopping wood and lighting a fire to cook dinner. Kyrlie leaned back and closed
her eyes to narrow slits, feigning sleep. Dinner would be a heck of a lot better if she cooked it, but she was
too tired.
When dinner was ready, she was proved correct in her estimate. A single piece of meat ranged from charcoal
at one end to not even warmed up at the other. There was some green stuff that looked like boiled ragweed,
and as for the mushrooms…Kyrlie decided not to touch those, she was sure they were at least mildly
poisonous. Of course Noroth shoveled it all down like he was dining at the King’s Court.
After they ate, Noroth gave Kyrlie some blankets and they settled down to sleep. Kyrlie made sure they were
at least twenty feet apart, she did not want to give the big lug any ideas.
The next morning Kyrlie awoke to find Noroth about to stew up another batch of ragweed and poisonous
mushrooms. “No!” she said firmly. “Noroth, you go out and find some bargabird nests with fresh laid eggs.
You can tell because fresh eggs are still white. Bring back half a dozen eggs and don’t break them.”
“Duh, okay, Kyrlie. Youse gonna fix us breakfast?”
“Yes, Noroth, I’m going to fix breakfast. Now go!” He stumbled off through the forest, and as soon as he was
well out of sight, she stepped behind a patch of bushes to relieve herself. Damn, she thought, what I wouldn’t
give for a nice tiled ladies room with American Standard fixtures.
Finished, she washed up at a little brook nearby, then gathered a few herbs and non-poisonous mushrooms.
She got a fire going, and had the crude utensils ready and the herbs and mushrooms cooked when Noroth
returned with the eggs. With the pots and pans Noroth had, even Emeril couldn’t have managed an omelet,
but scrambled eggs worked fine.
When they finished eating, Noroth said, “OK, Kyrlie, we gotta get moving. Gotta getchoo ta the Palace.”
“No, I don’t want to go to the Palace. I need to get to Misty Peak in the Forlorn Mountains. That’s where I
was headed when those clowns in that effing castle captured me.”
Noroth looked puzzled as he struggled to figure this out. “But Kyrlie, I allays take reskyooed princesses to the
Palace. If I din’t how’d I get my reward, huh? I seen you at the Palace, why donchoo wanna go back there?
Princesses allays go to the Palace.”
“Yes, I was at the Palace, and yes, I’m dressed like a princess.” Noroth slowly nodded his head, this much he
understood. “But I’m not really a princess.” Noroth’s face clouded with confusion again. “I’m really a
sorceress. I’m on a, a secret mission!”
Noroth’s face lit up. “Wow!” he said.
As Noroth started bundling everything into his pack, Kyrlie asked, “How far is it to the Misty Peak? How soon
can we get there?”
As usual, Noroth had to think a while to come up with an answer. “Gee, I don’t really know how many leagues
it is, Kyrlie. But I think, uh, it’ll take us, uh, thirty or forty days to walk there. It’s kinda far, ya know.”
“Oh, my God, thirty or forty days? And you plan to walk?”
“Uh, yeah? I mean, how else? You gonna conjure uppa flyin carpet for us to ride? A sorceress can do that,
right?”
“No, damn it, I cannot conjure up a flying carpet. I had in mind getting us horses to ride.”
“Well, uh,” Noroth looked embarrassed, “I’m, kinda out of gold right now. That’s why I tought I’d take you to
the palace and, uh, collect the reward. What choo say we do that first, huh?”
Kyrlie reached up and made motions of tearing her orange ringlets out. “Fine! No money, we steal some
horses. That doesn’t sound too difficult, does it?”
“Duh, steal horses? I guess, but what if somebody gets mad at us and don’t wanna let us have them? What
then?”
She muttered something under her breath, then said, “Noroth, I think if you pull out your sword, they’ll let us
have the horses…and anything else they have, too. And speaking of swords, I’d feel a lot more comfortable if
I had a sword or something myself.”
Noroth looked puzzled again. “Sorceresses use swords?”
“Yeah, but we keep it quiet. The Sorcerer’s Guild has a secret word for sword fighting. We call it ‘fencing,’ and
I’m good at it. Now let’s get moving. We’ll have to walk until we get horses, that’ll be slow, so let’s not waste
any more time.” She headed off in the direction of the Forlorn Mountains, and Noroth slung his pack on his
back and followed her.
~ * ~
After Kyrlie and Noroth had been walking almost a day, they came across a small farm. They were initially
greeted with great enthusiasm, until the farmer found out they planned to take two of his horses.
“Well, uh, we gotta long way ta go, too far ta walk. We need the horses, see?” Noroth told the man.
“But I need the horses to run my farm, noble Sir and Madam! What will I do, how can I sow and harvest my
crops without them?”
Noroth looked like he was almost ready to cave in to the farmer’s pleas, so Kyrlie jumped in. “Farmer, you see
my companion’s sword? One blow and he could take off your head. How well could you get in your crops
without your head? Or if I, a sorceress, should cast a curse on your land there would be no crops at all. Surely
you see the logic of our arguments, that we should have the horses?”
The farmer fell to the ground grovelling. “Take the horses, take the bridles too. Take them. But I have no
saddles. And Lady Sorceress, worst of all, I have no sidesaddle for a woman to ride. I beg forgiveness.”
“No problem,” Kyrlie said. She stepped into the horse shed, returning shortly wearing jeans with her skirts
tucked up around her waist. She and Noroth mounted up and rode off, leaving the farmer to bewail his fate.
After a while, Noroth said, “Hey, shoon’t we be going faster than this?”
“Not on these nags,” Kyrlie replied. We’ll kill them if we push them too hard. With some kind of luck we’ll get
to Honest Al’s Used Horse Lot up here somewhere and we can trade them in for newer models. With saddles.”
Noroth looked more puzzled than usual at the unfamiliar terms.
~ * ~
They were lucky, the next town did have a shop that sold weapons. Kyrlie picked out a small sword—most
were huge, two-handed swords like Noroth used—and told the shopkeeper she wanted the tip ground to a
point. It took two hours, an apprentice turning the grindstone, the shopkeeper grinding, and Kyrlie
supervising. Finally she decided it was good enough. She put the sword in the scabbard, buckled on the belt,
and turned to walk out the door.
“A thousand pardons, Milady,” the shopkeeper said, “But you have not paid me. Twenty gold pieces for the
sword and five more for the extra work grinding.”
Kyrlie reached back into her pack and brought forth a single gold piece, which she dropped on the wood
counter. “I am sure you’ll find this satisfactory.” The shopkeeper looked like he was ready to have a fit. “Oh,
one other thing we will pay you.” She whipped out the sword and placed the point under the apprentice’s
chin. “We will give you the life of your apprentice. Does that add up to enough?”
The shopkeeper nodded. “Yes, Milady, that will be enough.” He stood there as she walked out of the shop.
Noroth had been watching from the door, and as she came out he asked in a low voice, “Kyrlie, were yoo
really gonna kill that ‘prentice? And wherejoo get the gold piece, I din’t think we had any gold.”
“No, Noroth,” she said as they mounted up. “I wasn’t going to kill the apprentice. But I wanted to get the
man’s thoughts away from that gold. It was fairy gold, not real. It will vanish in an hour or two, sooner if it
touches cold iron.”
“Oh,” said Noroth, “a sorceress thing. Yoo sure are smart, Kyrlie.”
As they were approaching the far edge of town, she held up her finger for silence, then pointed. Outside the
last building were tethered two horses, fine looking animals, with beautiful leather saddles. She whispered,
“We’re going to switch horses, take those two and leave these nags.”
Noroth looked at the horses, then said in a low voice, “But, but, ain’t that stealing?”
“Noroth, how do you think we got these horses? We stole them, remember? Anyway, this time it’s a trade,
since we’re leaving our old horses.”
They rode up and dismounted, tethering the old nags. They unfastened the good horses, mounted them, and
started off. Suddenly there was a hoarse yell from down the street and they saw the shopkeeper running
toward them. “My gold. My gold. Where is my gold?”
Unfortunately, the commotion caught the attention of two men in the building who rushed out. They saw
what had happened and they too started yelling. “My horse! My horse!” They jumped on the nags and
started to chase Kyrlie and Noroth.
Kyrlie and Noroth urged their new horses to a full gallop, and soon they left their pursuers far behind in the
dust. They eased their flight a little in order to lessen the strain on the horses. Eventually they came to a
place where the road forded a small stream, and a path led along the stream to a leafy glade. As they let the
horses drink, Kyrlie examined her horse and discovered a small saddlebag.
“Look, Noroth, gold. No wonder the man was so upset about his horse being stolen. This will help us a lot on
our journey.”
“Uh, Kyrlie, we were gonna just steal the horses. Shoon’t we give the gold back becuz that wasn’t what we
were stealing?”
Kyrlie shook her head in exasperation.
~ * ~
As the two approached the foothills of the Forlorn Mountains, Kyrlie pulled her horse to a stop and signaled
Noroth to do the same. She raised her hands, curled into the shape of binoculars, to her eyes and muttered a
quick spell. She peered ahead for a minute or two, then brought her hands down. “We have trouble. Draco,
two of his thugs, and Zatarra are on the road ahead of us. I think we’re in for a fight.”
“Uh, I’m good at fighting, Kyrlie, and, uh, now yoo got a sword too. Kin we kill’em? I don’t like that Draco guy
what lockchoo up in the dungeon!”
“Yes, Noroth, I think killing them is an excellent plan. But they outnumber us four to two, which may make
things difficult.”
“Uh, I never seen Zatarra with a sword. I dunno if he has one er not. Would that help?”
“Yeah, it might. If we do get in a fight, you go after the two guards. I’ll take Draco and hope to hell Zatarra
isn’t armed.”
They moved forward again. Draco’s group just sat on their horses and waited. When they got close enough
to talk, Draco said, “Welcome…to your funeral! You two have caused us enough trouble, we don’t need any
more.”
“Screw you, Draco,” said Kyrlie. “We’re headed up to the Misty Peak. Get in our way and it’s your funeral.”
Draco was momentarily taken aback, then he signaled to his guards and the three charged. Kyrlie moved to
her left and Draco turned toward her, leaving the two guards heading toward Noroth. Draco was swinging his
large sword back and forth as he charged. Kyrlie momentarily halted her horse, then, timing Draco’s swings,
she spurred forward, ducked under his sword, and drove the point of her sword into Draco’s throat. His blood
spattered all over her, but by the time she could halt her horse and turn to look, Draco was lying on the
ground, obviously quite dead.
Kyrlie looked over at Noroth. He had decapitated one of his foes, and chopped off the sword arm of the other.
He smiled at Kyrlie and said, “Duh, great fight, huh?”
Zatarra had been sitting, staring, completely unnerved by the decimation of his allies. Finally he realized that
he needed to flee, but he was too late. Kyrlie held his horse’s bridle with one hand, while with her other she
was holding her sword pointed straight towards his heart.
“Explain!” she ordered.
“Spare me! Please spare me?”
“Explain!” she repeated.
“It was all Draco’s idea, he is…” He paused, looked at the body on the ground, and continued, “He was a
minor Prince, in line for the throne but rather far down the list. We were going to assassinate the King and
the leading contenders, then crown Draco. Noroth was always one of the King’s strongest supporters, had to
get him out of the way, so I…” His voice trailed off.
“Yes,” Kyrlie said, “I know what you did to Noroth, that was perhaps the worst of your crimes. And I know you
betrayed me to Draco when I set out on my journey. Palace gossip is rife with your other misdeeds.”
“But Kyrlie, didn’t I help you when you arrived? Didn’t I give you lessons? Don’t I deserve something for that?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps instead of imprisonment and torture you do deserve something better. A merciful death.”
She thrust her sword through his heart, then pulled it back and watched him drop to the ground.
She turned to her companion. “Gather up the horses, we are taking them. Strip any valuables off the dead,
then pull the bodies off the road into that clump of trees. They don’t deserve a proper burial, but I don’t want
to leave bodies all over the road.” She paused, then added, “Damn. I’ve been watching too many anti-
littering commercials.”
Noroth set to work doing what she asked, but the strange words left him looking more confused than ever.
When all was ready, they mounted their horses, and leading the spares, continued up the road into the
Forlorn Mountains.
~ * ~
Kyrlie and Noroth stood outside the entrance to the cave at the top of Misty Peak. It had been a long climb,
and they had had to leave the horses tethered below when it became too steep. Noroth turned and said,
“Duh, good luck, Kyrlie. I hope ya get home OK.”
“Thanks, Noroth. What are you going to do now?”
“I guess I’ll go back ta the Palace an’ see what’s goin’ on. I got nothing else ta do.” His face reflected
sadness, on top of his usual puzzled look.
“Why don’t you wait around a little while? If everyone’s wrong, if this won’t get me home, I’ll go back to the
Palace with you. I would rather not make that trip back alone.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea, Kyrlie. I’ll wait a while fer ya.”
Kyrlie turned and entered the narrow tunnel in the rock face. It twisted and turned so much that no one could
see in. In the darkest places, torches magickally appeared on the walls, giving barely enough light to avoid
banging into the walls. Eventually the tunnel opened into a large room, lit a little bit better than the tunnel,
but still dim. In the middle of the room was an altar with a glowing globe on it. Behind the altar was a wraith-
like figure.
“Welcome, Sorceress Kyrlie,” said the figure in a whisper. “You have come for your Ultimate Wish. This is the
most potent magic in our world, and you are—every sorcerer is—allowed one wish in your lifetime. But I give
you two warnings. First, to wish for evil will bring your death. And second, you must make very sure you wish
for the right thing, your ultimate desire, else your wish will be wasted.”
“I wish to return to my home world. Can your magick do that?”
“That can be done. but think carefully. When you first came here that was obviously your desire. Is that still
what you want?”
Kyrlie stood there, thinking, for several minutes. Finally she said, “I know what I want. What do I have to do?”
“Come forward,” said the figure, “and place your hands on the globe. Then wish with all your heart.”
She stepped forward.
~ * ~
Kyrlie emerged from the rock tunnel just as Noroth was about to pick up his pack and leave. “Kyrlie!” he said,
with a surprised—but not puzzled—expression. “Didn’t it work? Couldn’t they send you home?”
“They…he…whatever it was…could have sent me home. But I decided there was something I wanted even
more. I used my wish for that instead. Noroth, you look different, how do you feel?
“I feel marvelous. It was the strangest thing. It was as if I had been wandering around half asleep, in a
dense fog, for the last few years. Then suddenly I awoke, and the fog vanished. Everything is crystal clear
now. I know not what happened.”
“I do know what happened. I used my one wish to cure you, to restore you to what you were before you
were hit by that spell of Zatarra’s. It was my choice, and I hope and pray it was the right one.”
“You gave up your chance to get home to help _me_? Even in the fog I think I was falling in love with you,
now I’m sure. Kyrlie, I love you, will you marry me?”
“Now I know my choice was the right one.” She smiled at him. “Of course I’ll marry you, Noroth, you big lug.”
They kissed.
mop of unruly orange ringlets—stood at the front of her
team, looking down at the artificial wormhole and its
containment field. Meters showed constant pressure and
oxygen content inside the field, verifying the theory that
the other end of the wormhole would be attracted to the
surface of an earth-like planet. She turned toward the
rest of the team. “I wonder where the other end of the
wormhole is?” she asked. It was immediately obvious she
had pressed the group’s hot button.
“Gravitational effects from the mass of the galaxy,”
Dr. Lightner was the first to answer, “must confine the
other end to somewhere in our own Milky Way galaxy.”
“Nonsense!” Dr. Anderson said with a sniff. “Hyper-
symmetry theory proves conclusively that the other end
must be at the farthest point of the universe, the opposite
end of the hyper-diameter through our lab.”
“Cool it, guys,” Dr. Jones said. “We don’t even know if it is
in our universe. Fanchon’s work with multiverses makes a
good argument that the other end might be in an alternate
plane of existence.”
By now, the argument was getting out of hand, and
nobody was watching the experiment. A red light on the
panel attracted the attention of one of the techs, and he
tried unsuccessfully to interrupt. But by the time he got
someone to listen it was too late. The containment field
had weakened and the hypersurface of the wormhole was
wobbling around, moving further and further from its
proper location. It struck Dr. Jones, and she vanished.
~ * ~
Dr. Jones was somewhere else. At least, she was no
longer in the lab. Looking around, she saw what appeared to be a medieval castle, complete with an
assortment of medieval people. Most of them were shocked by her sudden appearance in their midst and
were frantically trying to get away. A few men armed with swords were holding their ground, and one man
was approaching. He was clad in long flowing purple robes embroidered with stars and mystic symbols, and
wore a pointed hat.
Man, she thought, what a cliché! “Hail, fellow sorcerer,” she said. "I hight the sorceress, uh, Curly, and I have
been cast here by a spell that went very wrong.”
“Welcome, Kyrlie,” he replied, pronouncing it just a bit strangely. “I hight Zatarra. What can I do for a fellow
sorcerer, er, sorceress?”
Kyrlie—apparently that was going to be her name as long as she stayed here—put her arm around Zatarra’s
shoulder and said in a low voice, “I think we needs discuss this in private. It would not do to talk about
sorcerous affairs where all these common folk can hear.”
“Of course, of course.” He turned to the crowd and said, “People, go back to your affairs. Be not scared, the
sorceress Kyrlie has come to discuss many magickal matters with me and to seek my aid. She is a good
sorceress. She and I will now retire to the privacy of my laboratory.” He took Kyrlie’s hand and led her out of
the hall. “First thing we have to do, my dear, is get you some reasonable clothes. I think your strange garb
was a large part of what scared those in the Grand Hall.”
Strange garb? she thought. What’s strange about a lab coat over jeans and a t-shirt? What should I be wearing?
She soon found out, much to her dismay.
Zatarra dropped her off in a room with a bunch of giggling servant girls who did their worst. “Dress her as a
princess,” he instructed them, then left. When he returned she was wearing a very uncomfortable brass bra,
and long heavy skirts which she intensely disliked…except they covered up the fact this world had never
invented feminine undergarments. They were going to simply discard her other clothes, but she threw a
tantrum and had them bundled up to take with her.
Zatarra led her to the top of the highest tower, and opened a very heavy oak door. The room would have
looked like a modern chemistry lab, work benches and shelves filled with jars of reagents, if it hadn’t been for
a number of skeletons hanging from the rafters.
Zatarra led her over to a pair of overstuffed chairs and gestured for her to sit. He sat in the other, then said,
“Now, tell me who you really are, and how you got here. I know all the sorcerers in the world, and you are not
one of them.”
Kyrlie thought quickly about what to say. The truth, she decided, but put in words this man could deal with.
“Zatarra,” she said, “I come from another world, much like yours in many ways but different in others.
‘Sorceress’ is the closest I can come to my title there, ‘Relativistic Astrophysicist.’ I, and some of my
apprentices, were working on a spell called ‘Wormhole” that will let one go from world to world. But it broke
the pentacle we had confined it in, and grabbed me, and threw me here.”
“Ah, I see,” Zatarra said, but the glazed look in his eyes showed he had not understood one word in ten.
“Can you cast this ‘Wormhole’ again and return to your world?”
“I fear not, noble Zatarra. It requires the aid of the demon ‘Nuclear Power’ who must be invoked with the
sacred metals, Uranium and Plutonium. Have you supplies of those on hand?”
“Er, no, I have never heard of Uran-i-a-mum. Perhaps you must learn the spells of our world to get back.”
“Excellent!” Kyrlie said. “The very thing. Since I am a skilled sorceress in my own world it will be easy for me to
learn the magick of yours.” But to herself, she thought, Ye gods. Magick! I’m going to learn magick? If I ever do
get back, I’ll be damned if I tell them how I managed it! I’d get laughed out of the university. Magick!
Over the next few weeks Kyrlie threw herself into her magick lessons with Zatarra’s help. To her own
amazement, in this world magick worked and she proved to be very proficient at it. She was soon casting
spells as powerful as Zatarra’s. But the more she learned, the more she noticed Zatarra shying away from
certain areas, and keeping her away from certain parts of the lab, especially a large locked cabinet with
symbols and runes all over it.
Keeping her ears open, she gathered as much information as she could. She noticed when she spoke openly
of Zatarra to anyone, the response was always glowing praise. But snatches of conversation heard from
around a corner or behind a piece of furniture were far less favorable. This was especially true when a certain
warrior named Noroth was concerned.
Noroth was fully six feet six tall and marvelously muscled. He had tousled blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a
cleft chin, but he had the intelligence of a rock. When she got to know him, she estimated he had an IQ of
about 77. Noroth was always friendly to Kyrlie, with a cheerful “Duh, hi” when they met. She treated him
nicely, almost as one might treat a friendly dog, but she had no real interest in him. Except, of course, for
curiosity about what had happened to him. The official story was he had been hit by a crossfire of spells
during a battle, and it had left him in that condition.
Kyrlie had made friends with Andreth, one of the older women, and finally persuaded her to talk. “Aye,”
Andreth said, “it was in the battle right enough. But the damage was done by Zatarra, who has always hated
Noroth. Zatarra’s spell reduced Noroth to what he is now, but Zatarra is the one spreading the story it was
four spells at once. And spreading the story that there is no magick in the world that can cure him.” She spat
on the floor. “Zatarra!”
~ * ~
Kyrlie was finishing her magick lesson in Zatarra’s lab when he told her, “Better take a couple of books to
study in your quarters. I am going to a meeting of sorcerers, I’ll be gone a week or so. And of course you
won’t be able to get in the lab.”
“Of course,” she replied. “But why can’t I go to this meeting with you?”
“No, you’re not a member of the Sorcerer’s Guild. You have no background, no history, the Guild would
suspect you of being a demon. I will bring your case up before the Guild’s High Council, but it will take time.”
Kyrlie picked up a few magick books she was currently studying and they left the lab. She noticed Zatarra
didn’t bother with such a mundane thing as a key, he just cast a locking spell on the door. She knew one of
the books she carried had a long section on locking and opening spells, and she had been doing well in her
practice with those.
The next day, after Zatarra had left, she made her way quietly to the tower and set to work on the door. It
took only a few minutes to determine which spell had been used, and a few more to overcome it. As the door
swung open, she slipped inside and closed it behind her. She headed directly for the special cabinet Zatarra
kept locked all the time.
The cabinet door took no more time than the room door had, and soon Kyrlie got a look at Zatarra’s secrets.
Shrunken heads, vials of graveyard dirt, a Hand of Glory…all tools for working Black Magick, tools of evil. On a
stand in the center of the cabinet was a Black Grimoire, open to a spell…a spell to becloud the mind of an
enemy! “Damn!” she muttered to herself. “I bet that’s the spell he used on Noroth.”
She looked through the book for a counterspell, but didn’t find one. Then she noticed a line of almost invisibly
small print at the bottom of the page. Squinting at it, she could make out that it said “Reversible only by the
Ultimate Magick.”
She straightened the book and locked the cabinet, being careful to set a spell on it identical to the one she
had found. She left the room, taking similar precautions with its lock, and returned to her quarters to think.
~ * ~
When Zatarra returned, Kyrlie greeted him, then asked, “Did you find out anything that might get me home?”
“Alas, no. Your world is unknown to us, it is not mentioned in any of our grimoires and spellbooks. We even
conjured a demon at one of our sessions, a demon who is supposed to know all about Earth, Heaven, and
Hell. He knew aught of your world, or where it might lie. And if we don’t know where to send you, we cannot
send you home.”
“Damn!”
“But wait, there is a faint chance which one of my fellows reminded me of. In the Forlorn Mountains, in a cave
at the top of Misty Peak, is said to lie the Ultimate Magick. Few have seen it, I never have. Legend holds that
any sorcerer may visit there once in a lifetime and make a wish, and the Ultimate Magick will make it so.”
“How do I get to this place?”
“I am not sure, but I will find out for you.”
~ * ~
Asking around the Palace, Kyrlie found few who had ever heard of the Forlorn Mountains or the Misty Peak. Of
those who had, all said they were far away, perhaps a month’s journey, perhaps a year’s. So when Zatarra
told her she could walk there in a week, she was suspicious. She also noticed him talking frequently with Sir
Draco, a minor prince of the kingdom. She resolved to be wary when setting out for the Forlorn Mountains.
Unfortunately she was not wary enough. And, of course, she might have chosen differently if the demon had
appeared in the palace before she left.
~ * ~
Dr. Lightner and Dr. Anderson brought up the wormhole, with its enhanced confinement field, for the first time
since Dr. Jones had vanished. The robot, on the end of its armored cable, moved forward until it touched the
hypersurface of the wormhole. The robot vanished, but the cable remained, twisting into the wormhole and
then off in some impossible direction that gave one a headache to look at closely. After a moment the screens
lit up, showing the view from the robot’s cameras. From the speakers came screams and cries of “Demon!”
They had only moments before something hit the robot and everything went dark and silent. The cable, its
end severed, slithered back out of the wormhole and dropped to the floor.
“Anybody see anything?” asked Dr. Lightner. “And was Curly anywhere in the field of view?”
“Didn’t get a good look, but I think several men drew swords and chopped the hell out of our robot,” Dr.
Anderson answered. “I don’t think Curly was there, that hair would be hard to miss. We’ll have to watch the
recordings in slo-mo to be sure.”
“So what do we do now?” Dr. Harris asked.
“Considering how hard it was to get the money for this probe, I doubt if there’s anything more we can do.
They’ll never fund another one,” Dr. Lightner said. “If Curly is still alive there, I’m afraid she’s going to be on
her own getting back.”
~ * ~
As Kyrlie adjusted her brass bra and waited to be rescued, she thought to herself, What a pain! Why in hell do
I have to wait for some muscle-bound jock to get me out of a jam? She mentally kicked herself again for falling
for Zatarra’s trap, for letting herself be captured and thrown into this dungeon. But her captor, Sir Draco, held
her in such contempt he left her with her pack—after, of course, he took the small amount of gold she had.
She was able to cast a “Rescue Me” spell, but she had no idea who would respond or how soon.
She wiggled the brass cups again, trying to find a comfortable fit. The damn things came in a limited number
of sizes and it was a rare girl who exactly filled them. If Kyrlie had her way she would have gotten a larger
size—so what if her boobs might flop around a little inside them. But no, they always gave you bras that were
too small, so there would be a bulge of flesh around the edges.
Just then there was a loud noise down the corridor, presumably her rescuer. She quickly put her pack on so
she would be ready to leave. A few hacked-off arms and legs in Gaoler’s uniforms flew by the door. Then she
could see her alleged hero outside the cell door, swinging a huge mace to shatter the lock. Kyrlie jumped back
as fragments of door rained down in the cell, then ducked in earnest as the massive head of the mace sped
across the room and crashed into the opposite wall.
Noroth—Kyrlie had somehow known it would be him—entered the cell, still holding the broken haft of the
mace. “Hey, Kyrlie,” he said in his profound basso voice, “watchoo doon here? Duh, you wanna get
reskyooed?”
Kyrlie rolled her eyes. “Yes, Noroth, my hero, I was just waiting here for you. Otherwise I would have picked
that lock with a bobby pin and left hours ago, you big ape!”
Noroth looked confused, as he usually did. Slowly his face cleared and he smiled. “Duh, that’s nicea yoo ta
wait fer me.” Then, before she could move he grabbed her around the waist, picked her up under his left arm,
and marched out of the cell with her. She ducked and barely managed to miss getting her head bashed
against the door frame.
I wonder how he’d feel, Kyrlie thought, if I took off this brass bra, and jammed it on him as a brass jock cup? She
resolved to try it if she ever got the opportunity.
Noroth battled his way, swinging his mighty sword, out of the dungeons, up the many flights of stairs, and
out of the castle. When he reached the woods his opponents finally gave up the chase and allowed him to
make more speed along the path.
Unfortunately it was the wrong path, and it was several hours before they located Noroth’s campsite. Kyrlie,
sore all over from being carried under the warrior’s arm for all that time, sank to the ground with a loud
groan. Why, she thought, do I put up with this bozo?
Noroth was fumbling around, chopping wood and lighting a fire to cook dinner. Kyrlie leaned back and closed
her eyes to narrow slits, feigning sleep. Dinner would be a heck of a lot better if she cooked it, but she was
too tired.
When dinner was ready, she was proved correct in her estimate. A single piece of meat ranged from charcoal
at one end to not even warmed up at the other. There was some green stuff that looked like boiled ragweed,
and as for the mushrooms…Kyrlie decided not to touch those, she was sure they were at least mildly
poisonous. Of course Noroth shoveled it all down like he was dining at the King’s Court.
After they ate, Noroth gave Kyrlie some blankets and they settled down to sleep. Kyrlie made sure they were
at least twenty feet apart, she did not want to give the big lug any ideas.
The next morning Kyrlie awoke to find Noroth about to stew up another batch of ragweed and poisonous
mushrooms. “No!” she said firmly. “Noroth, you go out and find some bargabird nests with fresh laid eggs.
You can tell because fresh eggs are still white. Bring back half a dozen eggs and don’t break them.”
“Duh, okay, Kyrlie. Youse gonna fix us breakfast?”
“Yes, Noroth, I’m going to fix breakfast. Now go!” He stumbled off through the forest, and as soon as he was
well out of sight, she stepped behind a patch of bushes to relieve herself. Damn, she thought, what I wouldn’t
give for a nice tiled ladies room with American Standard fixtures.
Finished, she washed up at a little brook nearby, then gathered a few herbs and non-poisonous mushrooms.
She got a fire going, and had the crude utensils ready and the herbs and mushrooms cooked when Noroth
returned with the eggs. With the pots and pans Noroth had, even Emeril couldn’t have managed an omelet,
but scrambled eggs worked fine.
When they finished eating, Noroth said, “OK, Kyrlie, we gotta get moving. Gotta getchoo ta the Palace.”
“No, I don’t want to go to the Palace. I need to get to Misty Peak in the Forlorn Mountains. That’s where I
was headed when those clowns in that effing castle captured me.”
Noroth looked puzzled as he struggled to figure this out. “But Kyrlie, I allays take reskyooed princesses to the
Palace. If I din’t how’d I get my reward, huh? I seen you at the Palace, why donchoo wanna go back there?
Princesses allays go to the Palace.”
“Yes, I was at the Palace, and yes, I’m dressed like a princess.” Noroth slowly nodded his head, this much he
understood. “But I’m not really a princess.” Noroth’s face clouded with confusion again. “I’m really a
sorceress. I’m on a, a secret mission!”
Noroth’s face lit up. “Wow!” he said.
As Noroth started bundling everything into his pack, Kyrlie asked, “How far is it to the Misty Peak? How soon
can we get there?”
As usual, Noroth had to think a while to come up with an answer. “Gee, I don’t really know how many leagues
it is, Kyrlie. But I think, uh, it’ll take us, uh, thirty or forty days to walk there. It’s kinda far, ya know.”
“Oh, my God, thirty or forty days? And you plan to walk?”
“Uh, yeah? I mean, how else? You gonna conjure uppa flyin carpet for us to ride? A sorceress can do that,
right?”
“No, damn it, I cannot conjure up a flying carpet. I had in mind getting us horses to ride.”
“Well, uh,” Noroth looked embarrassed, “I’m, kinda out of gold right now. That’s why I tought I’d take you to
the palace and, uh, collect the reward. What choo say we do that first, huh?”
Kyrlie reached up and made motions of tearing her orange ringlets out. “Fine! No money, we steal some
horses. That doesn’t sound too difficult, does it?”
“Duh, steal horses? I guess, but what if somebody gets mad at us and don’t wanna let us have them? What
then?”
She muttered something under her breath, then said, “Noroth, I think if you pull out your sword, they’ll let us
have the horses…and anything else they have, too. And speaking of swords, I’d feel a lot more comfortable if
I had a sword or something myself.”
Noroth looked puzzled again. “Sorceresses use swords?”
“Yeah, but we keep it quiet. The Sorcerer’s Guild has a secret word for sword fighting. We call it ‘fencing,’ and
I’m good at it. Now let’s get moving. We’ll have to walk until we get horses, that’ll be slow, so let’s not waste
any more time.” She headed off in the direction of the Forlorn Mountains, and Noroth slung his pack on his
back and followed her.
~ * ~
After Kyrlie and Noroth had been walking almost a day, they came across a small farm. They were initially
greeted with great enthusiasm, until the farmer found out they planned to take two of his horses.
“Well, uh, we gotta long way ta go, too far ta walk. We need the horses, see?” Noroth told the man.
“But I need the horses to run my farm, noble Sir and Madam! What will I do, how can I sow and harvest my
crops without them?”
Noroth looked like he was almost ready to cave in to the farmer’s pleas, so Kyrlie jumped in. “Farmer, you see
my companion’s sword? One blow and he could take off your head. How well could you get in your crops
without your head? Or if I, a sorceress, should cast a curse on your land there would be no crops at all. Surely
you see the logic of our arguments, that we should have the horses?”
The farmer fell to the ground grovelling. “Take the horses, take the bridles too. Take them. But I have no
saddles. And Lady Sorceress, worst of all, I have no sidesaddle for a woman to ride. I beg forgiveness.”
“No problem,” Kyrlie said. She stepped into the horse shed, returning shortly wearing jeans with her skirts
tucked up around her waist. She and Noroth mounted up and rode off, leaving the farmer to bewail his fate.
After a while, Noroth said, “Hey, shoon’t we be going faster than this?”
“Not on these nags,” Kyrlie replied. We’ll kill them if we push them too hard. With some kind of luck we’ll get
to Honest Al’s Used Horse Lot up here somewhere and we can trade them in for newer models. With saddles.”
Noroth looked more puzzled than usual at the unfamiliar terms.
~ * ~
They were lucky, the next town did have a shop that sold weapons. Kyrlie picked out a small sword—most
were huge, two-handed swords like Noroth used—and told the shopkeeper she wanted the tip ground to a
point. It took two hours, an apprentice turning the grindstone, the shopkeeper grinding, and Kyrlie
supervising. Finally she decided it was good enough. She put the sword in the scabbard, buckled on the belt,
and turned to walk out the door.
“A thousand pardons, Milady,” the shopkeeper said, “But you have not paid me. Twenty gold pieces for the
sword and five more for the extra work grinding.”
Kyrlie reached back into her pack and brought forth a single gold piece, which she dropped on the wood
counter. “I am sure you’ll find this satisfactory.” The shopkeeper looked like he was ready to have a fit. “Oh,
one other thing we will pay you.” She whipped out the sword and placed the point under the apprentice’s
chin. “We will give you the life of your apprentice. Does that add up to enough?”
The shopkeeper nodded. “Yes, Milady, that will be enough.” He stood there as she walked out of the shop.
Noroth had been watching from the door, and as she came out he asked in a low voice, “Kyrlie, were yoo
really gonna kill that ‘prentice? And wherejoo get the gold piece, I din’t think we had any gold.”
“No, Noroth,” she said as they mounted up. “I wasn’t going to kill the apprentice. But I wanted to get the
man’s thoughts away from that gold. It was fairy gold, not real. It will vanish in an hour or two, sooner if it
touches cold iron.”
“Oh,” said Noroth, “a sorceress thing. Yoo sure are smart, Kyrlie.”
As they were approaching the far edge of town, she held up her finger for silence, then pointed. Outside the
last building were tethered two horses, fine looking animals, with beautiful leather saddles. She whispered,
“We’re going to switch horses, take those two and leave these nags.”
Noroth looked at the horses, then said in a low voice, “But, but, ain’t that stealing?”
“Noroth, how do you think we got these horses? We stole them, remember? Anyway, this time it’s a trade,
since we’re leaving our old horses.”
They rode up and dismounted, tethering the old nags. They unfastened the good horses, mounted them, and
started off. Suddenly there was a hoarse yell from down the street and they saw the shopkeeper running
toward them. “My gold. My gold. Where is my gold?”
Unfortunately, the commotion caught the attention of two men in the building who rushed out. They saw
what had happened and they too started yelling. “My horse! My horse!” They jumped on the nags and
started to chase Kyrlie and Noroth.
Kyrlie and Noroth urged their new horses to a full gallop, and soon they left their pursuers far behind in the
dust. They eased their flight a little in order to lessen the strain on the horses. Eventually they came to a
place where the road forded a small stream, and a path led along the stream to a leafy glade. As they let the
horses drink, Kyrlie examined her horse and discovered a small saddlebag.
“Look, Noroth, gold. No wonder the man was so upset about his horse being stolen. This will help us a lot on
our journey.”
“Uh, Kyrlie, we were gonna just steal the horses. Shoon’t we give the gold back becuz that wasn’t what we
were stealing?”
Kyrlie shook her head in exasperation.
~ * ~
As the two approached the foothills of the Forlorn Mountains, Kyrlie pulled her horse to a stop and signaled
Noroth to do the same. She raised her hands, curled into the shape of binoculars, to her eyes and muttered a
quick spell. She peered ahead for a minute or two, then brought her hands down. “We have trouble. Draco,
two of his thugs, and Zatarra are on the road ahead of us. I think we’re in for a fight.”
“Uh, I’m good at fighting, Kyrlie, and, uh, now yoo got a sword too. Kin we kill’em? I don’t like that Draco guy
what lockchoo up in the dungeon!”
“Yes, Noroth, I think killing them is an excellent plan. But they outnumber us four to two, which may make
things difficult.”
“Uh, I never seen Zatarra with a sword. I dunno if he has one er not. Would that help?”
“Yeah, it might. If we do get in a fight, you go after the two guards. I’ll take Draco and hope to hell Zatarra
isn’t armed.”
They moved forward again. Draco’s group just sat on their horses and waited. When they got close enough
to talk, Draco said, “Welcome…to your funeral! You two have caused us enough trouble, we don’t need any
more.”
“Screw you, Draco,” said Kyrlie. “We’re headed up to the Misty Peak. Get in our way and it’s your funeral.”
Draco was momentarily taken aback, then he signaled to his guards and the three charged. Kyrlie moved to
her left and Draco turned toward her, leaving the two guards heading toward Noroth. Draco was swinging his
large sword back and forth as he charged. Kyrlie momentarily halted her horse, then, timing Draco’s swings,
she spurred forward, ducked under his sword, and drove the point of her sword into Draco’s throat. His blood
spattered all over her, but by the time she could halt her horse and turn to look, Draco was lying on the
ground, obviously quite dead.
Kyrlie looked over at Noroth. He had decapitated one of his foes, and chopped off the sword arm of the other.
He smiled at Kyrlie and said, “Duh, great fight, huh?”
Zatarra had been sitting, staring, completely unnerved by the decimation of his allies. Finally he realized that
he needed to flee, but he was too late. Kyrlie held his horse’s bridle with one hand, while with her other she
was holding her sword pointed straight towards his heart.
“Explain!” she ordered.
“Spare me! Please spare me?”
“Explain!” she repeated.
“It was all Draco’s idea, he is…” He paused, looked at the body on the ground, and continued, “He was a
minor Prince, in line for the throne but rather far down the list. We were going to assassinate the King and
the leading contenders, then crown Draco. Noroth was always one of the King’s strongest supporters, had to
get him out of the way, so I…” His voice trailed off.
“Yes,” Kyrlie said, “I know what you did to Noroth, that was perhaps the worst of your crimes. And I know you
betrayed me to Draco when I set out on my journey. Palace gossip is rife with your other misdeeds.”
“But Kyrlie, didn’t I help you when you arrived? Didn’t I give you lessons? Don’t I deserve something for that?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps instead of imprisonment and torture you do deserve something better. A merciful death.”
She thrust her sword through his heart, then pulled it back and watched him drop to the ground.
She turned to her companion. “Gather up the horses, we are taking them. Strip any valuables off the dead,
then pull the bodies off the road into that clump of trees. They don’t deserve a proper burial, but I don’t want
to leave bodies all over the road.” She paused, then added, “Damn. I’ve been watching too many anti-
littering commercials.”
Noroth set to work doing what she asked, but the strange words left him looking more confused than ever.
When all was ready, they mounted their horses, and leading the spares, continued up the road into the
Forlorn Mountains.
~ * ~
Kyrlie and Noroth stood outside the entrance to the cave at the top of Misty Peak. It had been a long climb,
and they had had to leave the horses tethered below when it became too steep. Noroth turned and said,
“Duh, good luck, Kyrlie. I hope ya get home OK.”
“Thanks, Noroth. What are you going to do now?”
“I guess I’ll go back ta the Palace an’ see what’s goin’ on. I got nothing else ta do.” His face reflected
sadness, on top of his usual puzzled look.
“Why don’t you wait around a little while? If everyone’s wrong, if this won’t get me home, I’ll go back to the
Palace with you. I would rather not make that trip back alone.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea, Kyrlie. I’ll wait a while fer ya.”
Kyrlie turned and entered the narrow tunnel in the rock face. It twisted and turned so much that no one could
see in. In the darkest places, torches magickally appeared on the walls, giving barely enough light to avoid
banging into the walls. Eventually the tunnel opened into a large room, lit a little bit better than the tunnel,
but still dim. In the middle of the room was an altar with a glowing globe on it. Behind the altar was a wraith-
like figure.
“Welcome, Sorceress Kyrlie,” said the figure in a whisper. “You have come for your Ultimate Wish. This is the
most potent magic in our world, and you are—every sorcerer is—allowed one wish in your lifetime. But I give
you two warnings. First, to wish for evil will bring your death. And second, you must make very sure you wish
for the right thing, your ultimate desire, else your wish will be wasted.”
“I wish to return to my home world. Can your magick do that?”
“That can be done. but think carefully. When you first came here that was obviously your desire. Is that still
what you want?”
Kyrlie stood there, thinking, for several minutes. Finally she said, “I know what I want. What do I have to do?”
“Come forward,” said the figure, “and place your hands on the globe. Then wish with all your heart.”
She stepped forward.
~ * ~
Kyrlie emerged from the rock tunnel just as Noroth was about to pick up his pack and leave. “Kyrlie!” he said,
with a surprised—but not puzzled—expression. “Didn’t it work? Couldn’t they send you home?”
“They…he…whatever it was…could have sent me home. But I decided there was something I wanted even
more. I used my wish for that instead. Noroth, you look different, how do you feel?
“I feel marvelous. It was the strangest thing. It was as if I had been wandering around half asleep, in a
dense fog, for the last few years. Then suddenly I awoke, and the fog vanished. Everything is crystal clear
now. I know not what happened.”
“I do know what happened. I used my one wish to cure you, to restore you to what you were before you
were hit by that spell of Zatarra’s. It was my choice, and I hope and pray it was the right one.”
“You gave up your chance to get home to help _me_? Even in the fog I think I was falling in love with you,
now I’m sure. Kyrlie, I love you, will you marry me?”
“Now I know my choice was the right one.” She smiled at him. “Of course I’ll marry you, Noroth, you big lug.”
They kissed.
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James Hartley is a former computer programmer. Originally from
northernNew Jersey, he now lives in sunny central Florida. He has
published two fantasy novels, "The Ghost of Grover's Ridge" and "Teen
Angel," and has a third, "Magic Is Faster Than Light," due out soon. He
has had stories published in the "Desolate Places", "Strange Mysteries",
"Book of Exodi," "A Time to ... v3," "Christmas in Outer Space," and
"Free Range Fairy Tales" anthologies, and in various e-zines and print
magazines. He is currently working on a new novel, "This Wand for
Hire."
He is a member of IWOFA and the Dark Fiction Guild.
His website is http://teenangel.netfirms.com.
northernNew Jersey, he now lives in sunny central Florida. He has
published two fantasy novels, "The Ghost of Grover's Ridge" and "Teen
Angel," and has a third, "Magic Is Faster Than Light," due out soon. He
has had stories published in the "Desolate Places", "Strange Mysteries",
"Book of Exodi," "A Time to ... v3," "Christmas in Outer Space," and
"Free Range Fairy Tales" anthologies, and in various e-zines and print
magazines. He is currently working on a new novel, "This Wand for
Hire."
He is a member of IWOFA and the Dark Fiction Guild.
His website is http://teenangel.netfirms.com.