Hidden Magic

Chapter 4

It appears that the centaur was right, Phillip mused to himself as he crossed the undeniably empty village. There was nothing. He could have charged in here with an army and trumpets blaring and there wouldn't have been any more reaction. There was also a definite lack of any centaurs; he'd passed many a monster corpse, but no sign of anyone not green and none of those once-monsters had on them anything remotely like what his master was seeking, either. He was about to give up the search when a ball of flame shot up towards the sky not far to his left.

Quickly snatching up a rock and pulling a piece of lightly-glowing phosphorescent moss from the pouch at his belt, he muttered a few words and waved his fingers above both objects until the rock began to emit a bright glow. This was a waste of magic, but he didn't feel like fumbling through his pack for a torch and he wanted to hurry to see what caused the blast without tripping over something in the rapidly fading light. Rock in hand, he scurried forward. If nothing else, he could beam anything that approached in the head with the stone, as unlikely as that would be in this ghost town.

Phillip figured there there was no need to be silent and began softly calling out when he neared the spot from where he guessed the blast had come. As he approached yet more fallen masonry, he heard a weak shout from somewhere nearby. Whatever it was, it wasn't a language he knew, but it didn't sound threatening so he followed it. He was led to a small hole in what seemed to be a much more recently collapsed building. Holding the glowing rock above his head to try to see in the gap, he was startled by two gleaming green eyes staring up. Whatever the eyes belonged to said something. From the tone of voice, it was probably something like "help," although for all he knew, it could have been saying "artichoke."

"Stand back," he informed whatever was down there. It didn't matter that whoever this was wouldn't understand him. At least he'd given warning. "I'm going to drop this in so we can see."

Whatever was down there stopped blathering, as though it knew he was trying to help. He thought for a moment. No, definitely a she, which probably meant the centaur he was asked to find. How was he supposed to life up a horse? The eyes moved back a pace and he dropped the stone. As she reached down to grab it hesitantly like she was afraid it would be hot, Phillip stared. She was neither the centaur he'd been expecting nor the orc he feared it would be. Instead, staring up at him with eyes so frightened and wide that he could clearly make out the whites, was a young elf. She appeared to be his age, but with elves that guess could be decades off. She was garbed mostly in leather in shades of what must have once been russet and brown but were now almost uniformly grey. Even the green tattoos that wound around her skin were mostly a dull, grimy grey. Her pulled-back brown hair had fallen partly out of its tie and was also caked in dust.

"Here, I'll throw down a rope." It wasn't until he saw the shocked look of comprehension on her face and her frantic nod that he realized he hadn't spoken in his language, but the Halfling tongue, the language he'd learned as a child and had rarely used since. Now why would I say that to an elf? he began to wonder, but shook his head. Whatever the reason, she seemed to know it, anyway. He reached into his bag for the rope he'd picked up at the wall. "Hold on."

He dropped it down and within seconds the girl had scampered up, weighing surprisingly little. Phillip realized why when she got to her feet after first giving what sounded like a small prayer of thanks to the ground. She was about a foot shorter than he was, which was normal for an elf, he supposed. To Phillip's relief, the frantic, scared look was now gone from her eyes. He'd had no idea how to deal with a violent centaur and would have had even less of an idea of what to do with a frightened elf.

She bit her bottom lip and stepped further away from the crumbled building, then dipped her head. "Thank you greatly for getting me out of there."

Phillip was about to brag about how it was no big deal and how he rescued young women on a regular basis when she snatched the rope out of his hands. "Wait a second, this is my rope, isn't it? Did my brother send you over?"