Free All That Glitters by Auston Habershaw Page A

figured an Eretherian enchanter would be good at this, but I had no idea . Hool! You look positively stunning!”
    â€œWhat does that mean? Why do you—­” Hool held up her hands and then froze, staring open-­mouthed at the delicate, manicured things in front of her. She then howled something in the gnollish language, which was a sight to behold issuing from the elegant throat of the tall, curvaceous woman. Artus was in the process of laughing himself silly when Hool stepped forward and grabbed Tyvian by the shirt. She hoisted him in the air like he was made of straw, but while Artus had seen Hool manhandle Tyvian hundreds of times, the image of a thin red-­haired woman in a fancy dress yanking Tyvian off his feet with one hand was nothing short of ridiculous. Artus went from simply laughing to openly guffawing.
    Tyvian tried to pry Hool’s hand from his shirt. “Hool! Hool, if you please! This is conduct unbecoming a lady!”
    Hool threw Tyvian on the bed. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?”
    Tyvian held up his hands. “It’s an illusion, Hool! A trick! Just take off the belt and you’ll see!”
    Scowling, Hool reached down and fumbled with something Artus couldn’t quite see. An instant later Hool was standing right where she had been, her usual golden-­furred self. She held the belt out like it was on fire and dropped it on the floor. “That was disgusting!”
    â€œMe try! Me try, too!” Brana barked, bouncing over to the bed and picking his up.
    Hool moved to intercept, but Tyvian interposed himself. “It’s harmless, Hool—­don’t worry.”
    The mother gnoll hesitated, which was just enough time for Brana to hook his belt on and vanish. Standing in his place was . . . Artus himself. “What?” Artus blinked. Looking more closely, he could see certain differences—­a broader chin, flatter cheekbones, darker hair. Brana’s illusory self was an inch or so taller than Artus and broader, too, with thickly muscled shoulders that Artus himself wasn’t even close to acquiring. He wore a similarly fine set of clothing as Hool, except with more maroons than greens. “You look like my brother Balter, a little.”
    Brana held out his human-­looking hands and then stuck out his tongue. “Ha! Brothers, yes!”
    Tyvian pursed his lips, “Yes, perhaps it’s best if you didn’t talk much while wearing your shroud, Brana.”
    Artus recognized the word. “Is this like that time you disguised me and all those Defenders to look like you?”
    â€œIt is indeed, though a bit more elaborate and less prone to failure. We’ll need our gnoll friends to wear these shrouds pretty consistently from now until we get to Saldor. This will let us move more easily and blend into society.”
    Artus blinked. “Wait a second—­did you say ‘Saldor’?”
    Tyvian grimaced as though he knew this was coming. “Yes, we’re going to Saldor. All of us.”
    Artus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “That’s crazy! We can’t go there! That’s . . . that’s where all the damned mirror men come from ! That’s like, like their home !”
    Tyvian nodded. “Indeed, which is why they would never expect to find us there.”
    Hool was frowning. “This is a bad plan. Very stupid.”
    â€œAfter Draketower, the majority of my Eretherian contacts are now spent. My only friends close enough to get to with our current funds are somewhere in the domain of Saldor.” Tyvian winced. “We don’t really have a choice.”
    Artus knew that wince. “You’re lying ! You’re lying to us right now !”
    Tyvian scowled, rubbing his ring hand. “This stupid trinket . . . okay, fine—­I’m lying. We’re still going to Saldor.”
    â€œI don’t like it,” Hool said.
    â€œI