Page 29 of The Tricksters Deception

“If you pull a cat’s tail you’re destined to be beheaded.”

“Oh. That’s violent. Ours aren’t really like that.”

“What’s one of yours?”

“That’s its bad luck to cross the path of a black cat.”

He snickers and adds, “You’ll like this one, if you pull on a Tricksters ears, they will grant you a wish.” I didn’t just laugh at that one, I practically cackled like a witch.

“I can just imagine people coming up to you wanting to pull on your ears. That’s hilarious. Can I give it a try? Cause I wish for us to be magically teleported to the end of this road trip. I’m exhausted.” I laugh. Corvu smiles, but he doesn’t join me in my laughter. What was up with him?

“A lot of people used to pinch my ears actually, just playfully though. It’s obviously not a true superstition.”

“In my world it's a genie that grants wishes.” He doesn’t say much else at that point. “Corvu,” I ask, “, why did that guy tell you not to kill me? That sounded really strange.” He swallows as he looks away. Clearly this is an uncomfortable conversation for him. Maybe I should have left it alone.

Sighing, he leans back on his palms and faces me. “You already know that no one likes Tricksters for the reasons I told you. I didn’t exactly tell you everything.” That sounded really bad, and I felt instant regret for asking. “Everyone likes to make Tricksters hate them, because the myth is that misfortune falls upon everyone the Trickster cares for.” That didn’t sound as bad as I was expecting.

“So, he thought because you care about me that you’d end up killing me through this made up curse?”

“You think it’s made up?” I'm almost stunned by his query.

“I know some myths are born from truth, but in general they’re a bunch of baloney. It’s obvious you care about Gecko and I, we’re your friends, why wouldn’t you? And we’re absolutely fine.” Corvu raises an eyebrow and smirks. It clicked. Technically, Gecko was in a pretty bad way at the moment. “That was my fault. I shouldn’t have stopped for berries.” I state.

“Actually, if you hadn’t stopped for the berries we might have been spotted on the main path and eaten almost immediately.”

“See, clearly you’re not cursed or I wouldn’t have spotted those berries then.” He finally lets out a laugh.

"So, what's baloney?"

Snacking on a few of the rations that we had, Corvu and I spent most of the night awake and talking. It’s not that we weren’t tired, we absolutely were, but talking to each other was just how we made ourselves feel better. I knew that Talon fellow disturbed Corvu with his words, so I was glad that we cleared it up.

Day Eighteen

The next morning, Corvu and I clean up Gecko and get him up on his horse to head to the next village. Despite the pain he is in, Gecko insists we ride quickly and get there before the sun sets. With only two very short stops, mostly for bathroom reasons, we end up at the next village with more time than expected to spare.

Xynaar happens to be a lovely little village. The doctor who sees Gecko is apparently a Barmar, another type of goat Daemonaria with horns and hair all over their bodies, six fingers, and a hunch, which apparently they all have. I try not to stare as he helps us out, and to my surprise, it costs nothing to see the doctor.

Given that we are told to ensure Gecko has a good night's rest, we stay at another Inn, only this time there are so many rooms that we are separated. I haven’t slept on my own since I came to this strange yet beautiful world. It gives me time to think, time to realize how long it really has been since I slept in my own bed, on a proper mattress and not on planks, cots, or dirt. I actually miss the convenience store and the people I would hang out with at college. I worked hard to get myself into school, even if working hard just meant pulling cheap magic tricks in the middle of Central Park when school kids went on field trips and business folks finished their long days at work. I wonder if any of my friends have tried looking for me since I’ve been here. My rent was due yesterday, and my landlord would surely have noticed I wasn’t around. Presumably, I’ll have to make up some kind of story as to what happened to me. After all, who would believe I was teleported to a different realm full of Daemonaria through the power of a magical amulet?

Corvu comes knocking soon after and invites me down to have some dinner. Gecko has apparently fallen dead asleep, probably an effect from the odd medication he was given. We head down to the tavern inn, a bustling place with a warm, inviting atmosphere. The inn is a large, rustic building made of dark wood and stone, with a thatched roof and a sign hanging outside depicting a tankard of ale. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of roasting meat, freshly baked bread, and the tang of spilled ale.

The interior is dimly lit by lanterns hanging from wooden beams, casting flickering shadows across the room. Long, sturdy tables fill the main area, surrounded by benches where travelers and locals alike sit, eating, drinking, and sharing stories. The bar itself is made of polished oak, running along one side of the room with a dozen or so stools lined up in front of it. Behind the bar, a variety of bottles and casks are neatly arranged, and a large, burly Snout’s serves drinks with practiced ease. The patrons of the tavern are a diverse mix. There are humans, elves, and dwarves, mingling with more exotic creatures like the Chilka and a couple of Merrows, who are aquatic beings with scales and webbed fingers, sitting near a large tank of water that they occasionally dip into to keep their skin moist. A pair of Gnomish traders are in a corner, animatedly discussing their latest wares, while a group of Drakonians—tall, dragon-like humanoids—sit near the fireplace, their scales glinting in the firelight.

We find seats at the bar, the stools creaking slightly under our weight. As we sit down, I notice the Chilka, a flying Daemonaria Corvu once mentioned during riding, at the other end of the bar. Chilkas have wings shaped like those of bats, but with dark feathers that match their bird-like eyes, which are set quite far apart. The Chilka is deep in conversation with a dwarf, and even from a distance, I catch snippets of their discussion about Orcs and impending danger. Corvu orders drinks for us—a spiced wine for him and a light ale for me. As the Snout’s bartender pours our drinks, I can't help but feel a bit nervous. Corvu's presence is always enigmatic, and I never quite know what to expect from him.

“Thank you for coming down,” Corvu says, his voice smooth and low, almost drowned out by the tavern's noise.

“Of course. I needed a break, and some company.” I reply, taking a sip of my ale. It’s surprisingly good, with a hint of honey and herbs.

We sit in silence for a moment, listening to the various conversations around us. The Chilka's tale catches my attention as he tells patrons around him that he flew over an army of Orcs, all headed for Wanbourne, and probably less than two days behind us. Even though no one specifically asks about it, he also mentions that the leader of the Orcs, Cutlass, is out for blood since a section of his army was subdued by the King’s ward and his troops.

“That sounds... ominous,” I comment, trying not to sound too worried.

“It does,” Corvu agrees, his gaze steady on me. “But we have time. Enough to enjoy tonight, at least.”

I nod, trying to focus on the present. “So, do you come here often?” He won't get the reference, but I don't know what else to say.

He chuckles softly. “Not as often as I’d like. The life of a Trickster keeps me moving.”

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