The Brotherhood of the Twisted Iron: A Case of Whims, a Sack of Wisps - Chapter 10

[seymoure]

Toll of War 

The room grew still as the grave. Listening for the ruffling of feet would avail nothing. For an instant it might be believed that no heart beat, nor lung asked for air.

The silence was ended by a bone in Grath’s neck cracking as he stretched to extend for a closer look within the darkened closet.

All eyes peered over Meri-am’s shoulders striving to view what unseen treasure might be worth choosing over gold. They all knew the value of coin, the worth of jewels, but nothing there looked in the least precious. How little did they know.

She bent down from the waist, retrieving something from the floor within and pulling back with a small, nondescript cheesecloth covered package. Less than the size of a slipper it was perfectly flat on its top, bottom and sides.

She turned her head to ask the Wizard, “Whims?”

“Aye,” the aged Magician agreed.

“What about this?” Bizjon added, proffering a burlap bag he had just gathered from within the same space. It was the only other item in the closet, so he assumed it was also part of the bargain.

“Be careful of that,” gasped Thwan-Tang reaching out protectively, “They could easily escape!”

Bizjon regarded what he held with some new found reticence now, and extended his bundle to the length of his arms, saying, “It’s alive?”

“Not in any sense you would understand,” the Mage disclosed as he gingerly reclaimed the parcel from the diminutive archer, “But capable of movement and the loss of even one should be tragedy of the greatest account. There are few of these left to be gathered.”

Meri-am gently tutored Bizjon, whispering, “They are Wisps. This is one of the grandest secrets of Magicians around the world. Kingdoms and empires have risen and fallen upon their abilities.”

Her comrades’ faces mirrored no understanding. Much like dogs hearing flutes the first time.

“You have heard of ‘wishing you were a fly on the wall to hear what might be said?’” She asked.

Ina unison movement that would have be humorous at any other time, they nodded.

“These are those ears to be in that place. They can also whisper in the ears of someone for you. Those you would have counseled will hear a voice suggesting your wish to them, but they can never divine the source.”

“They can also annoy, dismay and distract an enemy at the moment you need it,” said Antac, “I once fought a Wizard who used dozens of them thus. It took an arrow from a distance to silence him.”

“What of the other?” Grath asked.

“The Wisps are related to common Djinn,” Meri-am said as she regarded the case in her palm, “There are few wishes that lie beyond them. Oh, there are things they will refuse, they will not give you personal magic powers, nor can they bring loved ones back from beyond the veil on forever night. They can heal, but only up to a point. But apart from that they can and will make their master safe and secure for life, if that is his wish.”

Bizjon’s eyes were suddenly alive with ideas.

“It is a full case,” Thwan-Tang announced, “Twelve, each on with its two wishes intact.”

Antac and Meri-am spoke together as the Wizard began to consider how best to lay out a strategy for them.

Bizjon had taken Grath aside and, in a conspiratorial voice asked, “Just how much gold can you carry?”

 

© C. Wayne Owens
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