Page 24 of The Tricksters Deception

“It’s not real magic.” I begin, “It’s just a trick, perfected through the art of diversion and confusion.”

He grabs my hand with the pebble in it and turns it over. “How’d you do it?”

“A magician never tells his, or her, secrets.” I snicker. It's funny watching his curious reaction. I understand that magic and things that appear like magic probably aren’t that common here, especially by a woman. Everyone would just think she’s a Witch and execute them. “Actually, I’m curious about something.” I state as both boys watch me closely, patiently waiting for me to ask. “You’ve mentioned that Witches are executed. Was there an actual reason for that?”

“Most Witches used their powers to try and overthrow the late King, so to prevent him and his son from being assassinated he ordered all witches executed. In hindsight it was not his best moment on the throne, but don’t tell anyone I said that.”

Now for the question I wasn’t that interested in knowing the answer to, “And how did they execute them?” Corvu looked at me with a disturbed expression.

“A lot of different ways. Beheading normally. Some places they just got stoned to death by the villagers because the knights took too long to get there and they didn’t want to feed the Witches as prisoners. Which is also another way they died, starvation.” My mouth gaped a little but I shut it quickly,

“Do you think people that weren’t Witches were killed?”

“I’m positive. Good Witches were also killed.”

“So there are good Witches?”

“I think it was only ever a small coven of Witches that actually wanted to hurt the King. The others were just unfortunate casualties. Magic still exists here, but only really within Wizards and Warlocks. Or magical amulets that grant the wearer the power of Witches.” Normally I’d probably be upset at a guy looking down at my chest, but I knew it wasn’t me he was referring to, but the amulet that was hidden beneath my shirt.

“Why weren’t these amulets destroyed?”

“Honestly? No idea. But every time you hear of one surfacing it’s destroyed quite quickly. They seem to come out of nowhere now and then.” Somehow the idea of possessing an amulet that people kill over due to its magical capabilities made me feel a little special.

“So, how does this thing work anyway? I haven’t taken it off since I got it. Not even in the bath.”

“Good. Don’t. It’s said only the wearer can pass on its magic by willingly giving it to another. They can’t even take it off your dead body or it will lose power. I suppose Gecko and I should apologize in advance.” My brow furrows.

“Why?”

“Because if you get caught and there is no way for us to rescue you without the risk of being caught ourselves, unfortunately you’re on your own. You have a higher chance of survival that way.” I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or not. Gecko scrunched up his face.

“I’d still come and rescue you.” He says, determined.

“Seriously? You’re such a dumb pixie.”

“Hey!”

“If she gets caught, they will just use us to force her to give the amulet away, and then kill her. If we don’t get caught with her, they can’t possibly make her give it away. Well, unless they torture her.”

“Just to clarify,” I interject, “, the ‘they’ you’re speaking about?”

“Orcs, mostly. There will be others but it’s the Orcs that will be the worst case scenario. There are a lot of different Daemonaria that work for them too, which is why we have to be really careful about who we trust. Anyone could be working for them and still appear to be your best friend.” Without really meaning to imply anything I lean away from him. “Not me! I don’t want that stupid thing.” If my memory serves me, I ran away because I thought he wanted it in order to sell it to a high bidder.

“How much do you think Orcs would pay to get their hands on this?” I question, pointing to the middle of my chest where only Gecko and Corvu would know what I’m talking about.

“I heard a lot of different things the night you first got here. I asked a Troll, who said he’d easily pay five thousand gal. A centaur said he’d pay only to bring it to the King. There was one strange character that said he’d give me a castle if I told him the location of one. But I think most of them thought I was just talking and asking hypothetical questions.”

“Gal is gold, right?” I confirmed. He nods. I did my best to estimate what the conversation rate of shil and gal would be in American dollars. From what I can guess, one shil, or a silver piece, is worth about fifty in American, and a gal is about one hundred. That was a lot of money these Daemonaria were willing to pay for a piece of jewelry. I was relieved to know that Corvu’s conversation with the Innkeeper that morning was nothing more than idle chat. To me, the whole thing seemed completely cleared up now. “How much further do we have to go until we reach the capital?” Corvu looked up and mentally started counting,

“Maybe another week and a bit. It depends how fast we get moving. We stop a lot and we don’t exactly travel at full speed with the horses.” Gecko groans in response. I know I wasn’t the only one suffering from riding horses all day long. Gecko had even opted to walk alongside his occasionally. Instead of participating in the conversation any longer he goes over to the bunk where we had thrown most of our gear on. Corvu mentioned that when you wanted to keep an eye on your things it was better to sleep on them and be woken than have no food or money the next morning. Having only been mugged once, sort of, I can understand why losing your stuff isn’t the favored option.

I get up and walk over to the bunk I’m going to occupy for the night. It looks more like a bed, but the wooden planks covered by a single blanket don’t feel like a luxurious mattress. Lifting it a little, I see that the wood isn’t properly varnished, and splinters catch on the material. This is going to be an interesting night. I decide it’s warm enough outside, heated by the lanterns anyway, so I should sleep on top of the blankets for some level of comfort. Maybe I am being a princess. Gecko is sleeping on our cargo, and there’s no way those pointy objects could possibly be comfortable. Before I turn to Corvu to say goodnight, I hear Gecko make a low snoring sound. Muffling my laughter, I see Corvu roll his eyes and then lie back on the bunk.

“Night.” I say.

“Night.” He responds, a small smile settles on his lips as he closes his eyes.

I think I’m having a dream, although I can’t be too sure. I think I’m walking? No, I'm lying down. That’s right, I'm sleeping in a bunk. I feel my ankle bend ever so slightly as something touches me. Wait. Something’s touching me?

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