Shadows of Time: Shadow Maiden
to close to her chest.
“Going there would be suicide. If the Phooka saw us, there would be
no escape.”
    Merrick’s hand rested on the wicked curved
Phookan blade that hung from his side. “If I said there was a way
we could go there and never be seen by them, would you take
me?”
    “How would you do that? Are you a magician or
illusionist? Or maybe you are actually a wizard after all.” She
shook her head at his shocked face, laughing at Merrick’s
foolishness. “I overheard Fanger grumbling about the wizard that
fell from the sky. I assumed that must be you.”
    Merrick laughed louder than he intended,
almost not caring if the foolish mercenaries heard him from miles
away. “A wizard? Far from the truth. I have been given gifts
thought to be derived from magic. Though, I’ll admit I’m no warlock
of legend, I have been taught a trick or two about illusion. How is
the Phooka’s vision with fog like this?”
    “How is what?” Amaeya raised a brow in
curiosity at such an absurd question. “They find it irritating,
especially when the moon reflects so brightly off of it. Usually in
the dark, it’s razor sharp, but on a night like this… where are you
going with this?”
    They spent the next half hour gathering thick
moss from the damp forest floor. Merrick broke four gnarled limbs
from a dying tree and coated them in the silvery lightning powder.
After shaping the moss into hoods and lashing the glistening
branches to their heads to form menacing horns, Merrick and Amaeya
stepped apart to admire their work.
    Merrick gazed at Amaeya’s outline, her rugged
Phookan swagger completing the disguise perfectly in the hazy night
air. With the mist present, they could walk right past any of the
mercenaries without fear of immediate discovery.
     
     
    ***
     
     
    Fanger Al’Rul strode next to the Chief with a
hidden glow of satisfaction. Because of the previous night’s
events, his father had locked his cousin Maggot up without
question. The great Phooka fumed beside him. While troubling to be
so close to the angry mercenary, he was relieved the anger was not
directed at him. Instead, it was aimed purely at the demon elf that
had hired the war party.
    “That demon son of a whore has cost me my
human pet. This raid better be worthy of legend or it’ll be his
foul head I’ll be mounting on my wall,” said Al’Rul, spitting the
fiery words with the foul ferocity of a grease fire.
    “My lord, I’m sure the girl hasn’t gotten
far. She is weak and knows your fury better than most. She may even
return of her own free will,” said Fanger. Maggot’s absence made
gaining his father’s favor all the easier.
    “Perhaps. Perhaps not. The thought of the cur
that fell from the sky with her burns me to no ends. When we are
done with this raid, I will tear this landscape apart, even if I
have to rip the trees from their roots with my own horns,” said
Red-Tooth Al’Rul, his eyes fixed ahead. Fanger could only imagine
the atrocities racing through the Chief’s mind, some so treacherous
that they would make even him squirm.
    As the war party pressed on past the edge of
the forest, they were greeted by a great gaping field of tall,
wafting grass. Mounds of mist rolled and bubbled across the valley.
Tall silver towers poked out between gaps in the mist like smoke
seeping through dragon’s teeth.
    The war party gained speed in the open field.
The giant creaking war machine led the way, trampling the sea of
grass under its wide bow. Twenty pale faced slaves formed two
trudging lines laid out before the war machine. On their shoulders
rested harnesses made of biting iron chains and stinging leather. A
whip cracked above their heads like lightning, hastening their
pace.
    Giddiness bubbled up once again inside of
Fanger. Finally he would be able to bring glory to his clan’s name.
The war machine was great enough of a prize, but to also bring back
the heads of elven royalty? His name would be present in songs

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