Free Shadows of Time: Shadow Maiden by B.R. Nicholson

the underbelly and tasted bitter on his tongue.
    Slowly, Merrick pulled himself up into a
crouch. Amaeya followed, her hand still clutching at his arm. They
crept forward, sheltered by the great shadow of the war machine.
Clinging to its rough woodwork, they edged toward its corner.
Merrick peeked out from its side and could see three Phooka
lounging around the fire. They passed around a sagging water skin.
Though, by the way they talked, he guessed that it held something
far more powerful than water.
    “‘Ey! Quit hoggin’ all the lickah!” The
nearest Phooka scurried toward the one holding the water skin and
gave it a tug. The offended Phooka responded by kicking the
attacker in the knee, sending him face first into the mud.
    “I ain’t done wid it, you smug
bastah— eeehcup! ” Dragon whiskey sprayed from the water skin
as the Phooka became overwhelmed by hiccups. The remaining
mercenary snatched the drink from his companion during his moment
of weakness.
    “I’ll be a takin’ that,” he said. He took a
mighty swig and sprayed it into the waning fire. The flames bloomed
into wicked green fingers before wilting back down to a yellow
murmur. “That has got to be the most piss-poor fire I have ever a
seen.”
    “Aye,” said the Phooka on the ground. He
lifted up his head, expelling black mud from his snout with a
snort. “This damp is sinkin’ into me very bones. It’s worsen a that
damn fog out a there.”
    The Phooka sat and gazed into their fire for
a moment, each lost in their own drunken thoughts. The one holding
the water skin cleared his thought with a gruff cough. “You know,”
he said, “I’m not so sure I like doin’ business with that demon
fella’. He reeks a trouble. And this whole water thing. How are
they all ‘pose to come back through, I mean, what if they
drown?”
    The middle Phooka shook his head and snatched
the water skin back. “Nah, if they’d a drowned they would have gone
and done it when they got in. Nah… I think there be something far
worse at play. I don’t like doin’ business with magic folk,” he
said, spitting his words to rid his mouth of their foul taste.
    Merrick gripped Amaeya’s hand in his and
readied his legs to run for the water. The Phooka suddenly broke
out into a roar of laughter. The sound had startled him, but not
enough to keep him from making his move.
    He pulled Amaeya along as his boots beat into
the mud. A faint blue light etched an opening on the water’s
surface. Merrick held his breath as he plunged into the icy
darkness.
    Black water parted as he emerged from the
doorway, almost as if he were breaking the surface of the lake for
a breath of air. Water crashed around him as he fell through the
air. He landed with a wet thud on the stone tiles. Amaeya tumbled
onto the floor next to him, gagging on the murky water.
    “We made it,” Amaeya said, ripping the ruined
disguise from her head. Tight honey curls clung to her raised
brow.
    “We did, didn’t we?” Merrick peeled off his
mossy hood. With a few pinches of lightening powder left, he ripped
off the horns from the hood and shoved them into his belt. Even a
small amount would be enough to cause trouble. “So much for the
protection of our disguises.”
    “They don’t seem to be following us, do
they?” Amaeya did her best to brush the hair from her face but the
wet curls refused to be disturbed.
    “You’re right, they’re not. They seemed too
drunk to notice. What a shame. It really was a good idea,” he said,
tossing his rumpled hood aside.
    Amaeya smirked at his discontent. “Don’t be
so heartbroken. It’ll ruin our luck. And we’re going to need as
much luck as we can manage if we’re going to rescue your mysterious
lady friend,” she said, rising to her feet. She smiled and extended
her hand.
    Merrick watched her for a moment, both
entranced by her determination and suspicious of her motives.
Living his life in the desert had taught him that no one does
something for