Darrow stepped outside. There was Julian, and Hans was already walking away and holding something in his massive arms, but there was no sign of the others. Aquila must have gone back to the ship, he surmised, but what about Arica? It wasn't like her to leave Julian alone. "Vy are you not following?" asked Hans, turning to face him, and Darrow was finally able to see what he was carrying. Or rather, *who* he was carrying. It was Arica. "Arica? What happened to her?" "Shut up and I'll tell you," said Julian. Darrow held back the witty comment already forming in his larynx and listened. ---------------------------------------------- Saving the World Again Chapter 9: Two goals finished, another arises Started by Thomas Wilde This chapter by Steven Scougall ---------------------------------------------- Darrow stared at Arica, then back at Julian. "Please tell me this is a joke." Julian shook his head. "Nope." Darrow tried again. "PLEASE tell me this is a joke. She can't be possessed by St. Gideon." "Zhe is beink possessed by Zt. Gideon, Darrow," sighed Hans. "We are not likink zis but it iz vat has happened." "Just great," sighed Darrow. "I really hope that the people at the temple can do something for her." "So do I," Julian said fervently. They turned the final corner and up ahead was the temple of St. Gideon. It was big. It had flying buttresses, stone gargoyles on the roof, more pillars than were strictly necessary, and statues of all the minor characters in the saint's life. Inside, the three knew, would be statues of the more important figures in his life, culminating with a statue of the saint himself in the dead centre of the temple, even if, say, architectural concerns put the main hall in the back and the washrooms in the middle. This happened quite a lot, as for some reason temples were always a maze of passages and illogically located rooms. It was just one of those things. But all that was inside the temple. Outside, there were the gargoyles, pillars, statues, a frieze or two, and a plaque giving a short history for the unlikely people who didn't know about St. Gideon. There was also a royal carriage, that the king was getting out of, and of *course* he just so happened to look in their direction as they turned the corner. "Oh, *shit*," said Julian, his mind racing. They needed an excuse, anything, to explain why they weren't off getting the ginger for the Queen, for when the King asked the inevitable question. "Why aren't you between here and Bazaar?" asked the King. Hans indicated the sleeping Arica. "Zhe has got into a bit of trouble and as zis is the closest temple we are bringink her here for attention," he quickly improvised. "Capital," said the King. "Just don't forget about that ginger." He continued on into the temple. Julian breathed out in amazement. * * * Aquila had to admit that Princess Catherine was turning out to be rather useful. True to her word, she knew various ice spells, including a spell that created a moderately powerful ice shield that had saved her hide a couple of times. Of course, these spells varied in usefulness depending on the creatures they were facing; Princess Catherine had found that out the hard way when she'd tried the Ice Shield against a pack of fire-breathing chameleons. Only Aquila's quick blade had stopped Catherine being barbecued where she stood. Princess Catherine could also summon various animal spirits. However, as she was still learning magic, she couldn't summon anything more powerful than, say, a Fire Parrot. "Fire Parrot, go! Burn my foes where they stand! Er... slither and wobble, I mean." The ghostly parrot swept forward on a trail of ghostly fire and spat gobbets of fire at a quivering blob that had an evil grin on one side of its gelatinous body. The evil grin turned into a grimace and the blob melted. To Aquila's satisfaction, it didn't drop anything peculiar as it died. There was a slithering behind her. "Miss Aquila! Watch out-" Aquila had already reversed the grip on her cutlass handle. Without looking, she thrust the weapon behind her, neatly skewering the last of the two-meter long snakes they'd run into. "That's that, then," she said. She reached into a coat pocket and pulled out a cloth, and wiped accumulated poison, blue jelly from the blobs, and blood off her cutlass' blade. Giving the weapon one final flick, she re-sheathed it at her side and turned to her companion. Princess Catherine was dancing in joy. Aquila sighed in distaste. As accomplished as the Princess was, she still acted like a bubble-headed ditz when out of danger. "Your Fire Parrot?" she reminded the girl. "Oh yeah! Fire Parrot, thank you for your help! You can go back now!" The ghostly bird gave an echoing squawk and disappeared in a burst of fire. "Why didn't you let me do anything?" asked Princess Catherine's sack. "Because, demon fluffball-" "Mewly's not a demon!" protested Catherine. "He just wants to help!" "...whatever," said Aquila. "It's too dangerous for it. Plus, I don't trust its help. Its help ended up in Arica getting possessed." "It seemed like a good idea at the time!" protested the sack. "*Think* these things through!" roared Aquila. Catherine cowered back and muffled whimpering noises came from the sack the girl was carrying. And, of all things, Aquila felt sorry for it. She must be getting soft. * * * "Dammit, which way is the main hall?" asked Julian. "I am recognisink zis junction," said Hans. He pointed at a faint indentation in one of the walls. "Zee, zat is vhere Darrow thumped the wall in frustration." "I've thumped *many* walls in frustration, oaf," said Darrow. "That doesn't help." Hans pointed again. "And *zat* is vhere he kicked at ze floor, and *zat* is where he kicked at ze pillar, and *zat* is vhere he kicked at ze *other* pillar and slipped," he paused, took a breath, and with a dramatic flourish he pointed out the last piece of evidence, "and zat is where he fell and bloodied his nose against ze ztatue of St. Grinkle ze Many-Appearing." "Hans," said Julian, "that all happened a couple of hours ago, and Darrow's been acting worse and worse since. How can you remember all that?" "Zimple, for a man of my tracking skills," said Hans. "Wonderful," said Darrow. "Apart from pointing out just how frustrated I'm getting, what was all that supposed to achieve?" "From here ve haf already tried north, north-east, and south, and ve just came from ze south-west, so ze only way left to go is west." The west corridor turned out to be a dead-end. "Looks like ve need to backtrack some more," said Hans. Arica stirred in Julian's arms and mumbled something. He promptly sprinkled some more Morpheus dust in her face. "I hope we get out through this soon, Hans, we don't have much Morpheus dust left." * * * Aquila and Princess Catherine were walking along a shady forest path, Mewly bounding along beside the girl. Aquila had finally allowed Mewly to roam free, on the understanding that any horseplay would land him right back in the sack. The admonition seemed to be working, but she was keeping an eye on the thing just in case it tried anything funny. It was remarkably quiet. They hadn't been attacked by anything for a couple of hours now. It was unusual and unnerving, but definitely peaceful. Maybe the fluffball was keeping them away, Aquila thought. That suited her just fine. "Miss Clearwater? I've been thinking, and something's been bothering me." Aquila looked down at the girl, who was looking earnestly up at her. "Yeah, girl?" "I'm a princess!" Catherine complained. "Stop calling me 'girl' all the time!" "Fine, fine," sighed Aquila. The princess was certainly hung up on being called the proper title. "Yes, princess?" "Um... I don't know you very well yet, but you seem so... uh... harsh, and..." The girl trailed off under Aquila's stern glare, then hurried on. "So why are you helping Julian at all? You could have just gone back to the ship and sailed away instead of going to Bazaar for the spice." "I can't do that," she said promptly. "He's the captain. As useless a captain as he is, he's still the captain and I'm not going to mutiny." But it didn't ring true with her. She could have gone back to her ship, couldn't she? Julian was theoretically captain, but the crew members knew her well enough to know he was just leaving everything to her anyway. Things happened on-deck almost the same as before, except that Julian stood behind her, doing his best to look important. Aquila would be surprised if any of the crew were taken in by it; after all, she'd personally handpicked every single one of them. She trusted them with her life and they trusted her to be their captain. And they'd certainly been present at the semi-regular boozing sessions she allowed. She flushed as she remembered back during Julian's first adventure, when she'd babbled on about the latest and greatest hero and how much more heroic he was than usual after one too many ales. Good lord, they must all think she was trying to steal Julian away from Arica. "Miss Clearwater? You're turning all red, and-" "Never you mind, girl." "'Princess'! Call me 'princess'!" "Never you mind." * * * Cochran stuck his head into the crew quarters and the excited babble of voices immediately quieted. "What is going *on* in here?" asked the first mate. "Well, uh..." said one pirate. "...you see..." continued another. "...we were kinda-" "Let me see that," snapped Cochran, pushed his way through the crowd, and picked up the piece of paper they were inexpertly hiding. His insides bottomed out; the thing was covered with letters. Sure, he could read, but not very well. He could read a map, and the ship's ledgers, and could scratch out short notes when necessary, but this paper was *full* of damned writing and it would take him *ages* to read it. "They're letters, Mr. Cochran," said one youngster helpfully, and someone in the crowd sniggered quietly. He could hear some of the others breathing out in relief. "I can see that," he snapped, but inside he was quaking with fear. He needed to defuse this, and fast. Compare it what you know, his terror reminded him. The line down the middle made him think of the ship's accounts, and his eye instinctively travelled to the top of the page for the column headings. There were some simple words at the top left and top right - a moment of puzzling over them showed that they made out the headings 'She will go for him' and 'She won't'. The words underneath them were a bit harder, but he thought he could recognise some names. Aha. Considering the circumstances, there were only a few things this could mean. He took a wild guess. "And," he continued on, "I also see that these letters show who's betting that Miss Clearwater will steal Julian away from Arica, and who's betting she won't." Their faces whitened, and he saw he'd guessed right. "Put me down for twenty crowns under 'She Won't'," he said. "Excuse me?" asked the youngster. "I don't think she will," he clarified. "Sure, we all know she once had a bad case of hero worship for him, but she's not *that* silly." He waited a second for the nervous looks to start spreading, and then continued. "And no, you can't change your bets. Least, I don't think so. Who's organising this betting pool, anyway?" * * * They'd been to the kitchens, the stables, the bathrooms twice, seven different entrances to the underground tunnels, and the sacrificial altar for cows three times, which they'd been turned away from within seconds every single time on account of having no cows with them. But finally things were looking up. They were looking different, at least - instead of the featureless walls and endless statues of St. Grinkle the Many-Appearing, there was a large doorway. Above it was a plaque saying "Main Hall, please be quiet". Extremely weary, Julian pushed the door open. He saw at once that it had to be reasonably centrally located, as the requisite huge statue of St. Gideon was in a nearby corner. At the other end were a few rows of chairs, a lectern for speakers to stand at, and a large wall-covering painting of the saint himself. There was a lot of white, with a bit of gold thrown in. Sunlight, filtered through the stained-glass window in the ceiling, lit up a couple of priests. "Oh! We have devout followers of the saint himself!" said one of the priests. "And so soon after the royal visit!" He hurried forwards, a large ingratiating smile on his face. "Welcome, welcome! We do not often get visitors-" Darrow pushed past Julian. "Of course you don't, it's impossible to get here! Who the hell *designed* this place?" he yelled. "What do you mean?" asked the priest, confused. "Forget it Darrow. We have more pressing concerns," said Julian. He pushed to the front of their little group, holding Arica in his arms. "Oh! The lady is comatose and requiring of our aid!" "Sort of," said Julian. "My wife's not comatose, she's just unconscious. But she does require your aid, for she appears to be possessed by St. Gideon." The priest's helpful smile became a startled look of confusion. "Sir?" Julian told him all about it. About the fluffball Mewly's efforts to help, the many staffs of St. Gideon, and finally culminating in what looked like Arica but obviously wasn't coming back to the camp. "I see," said the priest. "And you want her back to herself?" "I thought it was obvious OW!" protested Darrow. "You kicked me in the shin!" "Let me do the talking, Darrow," said Julian, flexing his toes. He turned back to the priest. "Yes. I would very much like her to be back to herself." "Very well," said the priest. "Come right this way." He led the three to the far end of the hall. There were some old ratty curtains lying in heap in a dusty corner. The priest instructed Hans and Darrow to lay them out on the floor, and then Julian laid Arica gently down. The two priests flitted around her, checking her vital signs, flashing strange lights into her ears, and sprinkling Morpheus dust in her face every so often. "This could take a few days," one of them finally said. "Four DAYS!?" yelled Julian. "Just getting into this room took us a few hours!" yelled Darrow. "I can remember ze vay here," said Hans. "Do not vorry about it, Darrow." "Just take the back door," said the priest. He stood up and pushed on a section of wall. It showed a busy Mercant street just several meters away. Darrow started twitching. "We always found it much easier than mucking about with the front passages," said the other priest. Darrow twitched some more. "Just remember to knock loudly on it when you want to come back in," said the first one. * * * A couple of days passed, during which nothing much happened. Well, alright, stuff did happen. For example, Aquila and Catherine continued on through the woods to Bazaar, encountering the occasional monster. Hans, Darrow, and Julian found a place to stay for a couple of nights. Julian tried to not worry about Arica and failed miserably and went to check up on her every few hours until the priests told him to please stop coming because he kept interfering with their delicate procedures. Hans and Darrow got drunk in local taverns several times. But nothing of much interest happened. * * * The City of Bazaar is large, and, in the spirit of its name, is a giant bazaar. In the central business district, there are shops selling everything under the sun, and stalls selling everything else lining the edges of the streets, and the large number of people in the streets makes it almost impossible for carriages and other vehicles to get through the city. Arguments between carriage drivers and pedestrians aren't just common, but expected. In the suburbs kids have stalls selling lemonade, knickknacks, and their old clothes that don't fit them any more lining the streets. Far from being annoyed, their parents chip in and supply *their* old clothes and those horrible gifts they have no use for and have been trying to get rid of for the past several years. Much fun is had by all, even the people who gave the horrible gifts in the first place. Surprisingly, amidst all the chaos and the noise, Aquila and Princess Catherine could find a shop selling ginger within only a couple of hours. "That was surprisingly easy," said Aquila, as the shop owner wrapped up the spice. "We in Bazaar try to make it easy for the customer to find what she's looking for," said the shop owner, with a friendly smile. "After all, you don't want them to get frustrated and leave without spending any money, do you?" grinned Aquila. If the shop owner was perturbed by Aquila's jest she didn't show it, she just kept smiling. "Of course not," she said the owner. "That was *too* easy," complained Princess Catherine. "I wanted to spend some more time here!" "Too bad," said the ex-captain. "We're heading back to Mercant City now." The woman and the girl left the shop, heading for the gates. The shop owner's friendly smile became a decidedly evil grin. "Of course," she said, "it is not so easy getting *out*. We don't want you leaving without spending *more* money, do we?" * * * On the fourth day, Julian, Darrow, and Hans went into the temple of St. Gideon to find Arica still asleep and lying on the curtains. "Oh no," said Julian. "Don't tell me, she's still possessed?" "Hardly," said the first priest. "The spirit of St. Gideon is back where it rightfully belongs. She just had too much Morpheus dust. She'll be back on her feet in no time." Sure enough, a couple of hours later Arica awoke to find Julian's face several inches above hers, an extremely panicked look on it. Feeling a little devilish she grabbed his head and brought it down the rest of the way to hers for a thank you kiss. Also on the fourth day, an extremely jubilant Princess Catherine and an extremely annoyed Aquila re-entered the city. The reason for Aquila's annoyance was plainly obvious - it was a large sack of goods she'd somehow found herself and Catherine (but mainly herself) buying on the way out of the city. "Remind me," she said to Julian, "never to go to Bazaar again." "It was *fun*!" said Catherine, and Mewly agreed. "I want to go back again!" "*Not* with me," Aquila insisted. Also on the fourth day, Severn, a highly placed official in the Guild of Heroes, sailed into Mercant. He saw the Aqua Terror immediately. "The Aqua Terror is in port," he said. He turned to Sergeant Krislen. "Mobilise your men. Occupy the ship and search it thoroughly. If they are not on board, keep the ship occupied as they must return to it eventually, and search the city. Kestrel and Llewellyn must be here somewhere." "Yes sir," said the sergeant. AUTHOR'S NOTES -------------- Sob. I finally remember to get prereaders (or at least ask for some) and nobody responds. Once again, I demonstrate how mediocre I am with titles. I hope you didn't mind reading this chapter. It ended up a bit rushed, and probably shows, too. Steven Scougall http://www.crosswinds.net/~sscougall/ 13th October 2001