The Silken Key

Chapter 20

"Tariq, what are you doing?" Detlef gaped, struggling to grasp the situation which had changed so suddenly.

Tariq's face showed no emotion as he drew his sword and took a step forward, as did the other five guards. "I'm doing only what I am paid to do, Slatesworn. Don't take it personally."

Detlef had not been expecting a confrontation, so did not have his halberd with him. Even if he did have it, it would not do him much good; the five soldiers in front of him were well-armed and well-armoured. Tariq wore his usual light clothes, but Detlef had seen how well that man could fight.

"The Key belongs to me," the Wazeer said. There was a force and authority in her voice even more than before. Standing tall, wide and powerful, one would never have guessed she was an elf except for the pointed ears. "Hand it over immediately and you will be rewarded for your help. Refuse and I will take it from you the hard way, then your reward will be death."

Tabitha clutched the key close to her chest with one hand and held her staff in front of her with the other. "Your wisdom is clearly not so great! The Key is mine, as ordained by a higher power than you know."

"Enough of your nonsense, girl," the Wazeer snorted. "You know nothing of power. Your magic may have been enough to destroy Ingrid Sohgir, but I am not a frail, weakened old mage like her."

"Let's talk about this," Detlef said calmly. Against his better judgement, he stepped to the side, standing between Tabitha and the Wazeer. Tabitha had only recently reminded him of his oath and that was fresh in his mind. "You only wanted to keep the Key safe, right? I can offer you my personal guarantee that it is safe with us. I swear it on oath."

The Wazeer smiled a sneering smile. "You are a pleasant fool, Detlef Slatesworn. I would truly hate to have to shrivel you like a dried-up houseplant. You have no idea who you are dealing with. My advice would be to talk sense into the halfling before you and all your friends are destroyed."

Detlef felt a hand patting on his shoulder, and heard Maddy's voice whispering worriedly in his ear. "Detlef, I can't let myself be destroyed! Who would tell the world about my discovery?"

"Nobody is getting destroyed," Detlef said with more confidence than he actually felt. He took a brave step forward and held his empty hands out to either side of him. "If you are going to destroy anyone, start with me. I don't think it's what you intend to do at all."

The Wazeer sighed and shook her head, glancing across at Tariq. Tariq avoided eye contact, his face as impassive as ever.

"If that is how you choose it to be," the Wazeer said. Suddenly she swung forwards with her arm, conjuring a large bolt of green energy which lashed through the air.

Detlef cried out in surprise and held his hands up, knowing right away that he had no chance of avoiding the magical attack. He closed his eyes tight and gritted his teeth, waiting for the inevitable.

There was a thrum sound, followed by another sound like oil being set on fire. Detlef came to realise he had not been withered like a houseplant, nor burned up in a puff of smoke like he had expected. He opened his eyes and found himself surrounded by a glowing yellow bubble which must have stopped the Wazeer's bolt. Turning his head, Detlef saw Tabitha had her staff pointed towards him. The protective bubble was attached to the tip of her staff, where the opal was once again glowing bright green.

"Not bad, Fallowfield," the Wazeer scoffed. "But you cannot last. You are not a fighter. You are a hider and a weakling, just like your great-grandfather."

As she spoke, the Wazeer ran her fingers over the copper plate which hung from her neck. Detlef had not given it a second thought since the first evening they'd met the Wazeer, but now he looked at it anew and the shock of recognition drew a gasp from his lips. It wasn't an upside-down hand with a disc; it was a one-eyed, five-tentacled squid, just like the second emblem on the box.