Treasure Hunter

By Amber Michelle K.
myaru@etherealvoid.net

"You're a... treasure hunter, you say?"

Theirs was a scene straight out of an adventure novel: scorched cobblestones, weapons scattered about, and eight very wary people facing off across a courtyard that was far too small for the kind of battle it was about to see. The church steeple loomed above them, broken cross standing guard. Three knights, a mercenary, two mages, and the girl he'd bumped into out on the street were lit starkly by the ball of energy suspended above his hand, and they were ready.

Judas took another step away and felt his back hit the wall of the chapel. The woman in black wasn't bad, for a human; her magic would give him a run for his money, if he let it, but the rest would be child's play. He could raise the entire graveyard if necessary, and that would leave only /her/... but he paused and watched them over his spell, and wondered. the living didn't visit Lorien often. Why were they here?

Better yet, what were they looking for? His artifacts? His mistress? They'd be disappointed, if so.

When the moments stretched and they didn't attack, Judas lowered his hand a fraction. A few corpses more or less didn't bother /him/, but he'd rather they be corpses without secrets.

"That is correct. I hope we can avoid this, friends," he said softly, lowering the spell further. It would be off in a flash if anyone so much as twitched the wrong way, but they didn't know that. "I did not come here to fight with my own kind."

They'd never nail a lie to /him/, no sir.

"I wouldn't bandy that word around so lightly, sir," said the woman in black. Her staff was still between them, and she showed no signs of lowering her guard as he had. "Certainly not when you began this little meeting with an attack."

Judas let his eyes slide to the girl. "I didn't attack her."

The woman with silvery hair snorted. "As if we'd believe a--"

Her companion shushed her, and she scowled. The others remained silent, hands on their swords. Only the girl was weaponless, hiding behind the two women confronting him as if they were an inpenetrable wall, white-faced and silent.

"I met violence with violence," he said simply, raising an eyebrow. "Ask her - unless she's a liar, you'll get the same answer. You cast the first spell."

"Claira," the warrior girl began, but again the woman silenced her.

"Why did she scream?"

His mouth twitched. "We /are/ standing in a graveyard."

The joke seemed to annoy her, but he couldn't pin her expression down in the stark light. He let a bit of the magic seep away so it would dim to a tolerable level. The knights were blinding him with their ridiculous armor.

"So why are you here?" the other girl demanded. She ignored her companion's - Claira's - look, her glare leveled instead at him. Silvery hair, she had, and he wondered if the strands he'd found in his mistress's ashes were hers. There was definitely something unusual about her, but he couldn't pin it down. "We've heard some wild stories about this place, and as far as I heard, no one is actually stupid enough to come up here."

"I was reserving judgement on your character, but since you mentioned it-" Judas smiled for her benefit and thought it wouldn't be so bad to just blast them here and be done with it. The knights would die instantly, and that would leave only the four girls. The two youngest seemed worthless, in his estimation. "As I said, I am a treasure hunter. I'm sure you can infer the details without any more help from me." He glanced at the girl he'd run into and spread his hands. "Well?"

The little girl nodded, and her white hand gripped Claira's sleeve. "He didn't. I don't know where he came from, but..." She trailed off uncertainly.

About time, Judas thought, and barely supressed a scowl. She didn't have to say it so reluctantly. Yes, he had buckets of blood on his hands, but he never thought he'd be attacked for a crime he hadn't committed yet. Most people had better sense.

"Very well." Claira lowered her staff, thunking it to the ground, though she didn't appear to be any more relaxed. Her eyes flicked to his spell, and he dutifully allowed it to fade and leave them in darkness. One of the knights clanked, rifling around for something - a torch, probably. "So you didn't attack her, and you think your profession should explain your presence to us." Her look said she didn't agree. "Still, it's peculiar to find a lone sorcerer in such ruins. This place has quite a reputation."

He did scowl, then, but her eyes wouldn't be able to penetrate the darkness to see it. "In my experience, legends are only that. They protect artifacts, not the humans seeking them."

"True," she said. "How long have you been here?"

That she expected him to answer her questions without a fight was terribly unfair. Whose city was this, anyway? Who attacked whom? "Long enough to realize there is no treasure to be found. But please, don't take my word for it - I'd hate to be the only one who spent so much effort looking for something that isn't here."

"And you'll be waiting in the shadows to stab us in the back when we're not looking, I'm sure."

That was Claira's friend again, and the knight chose that moment to light his torch, after some fumbling with the flint. He hadn't needed it to know she was staring right at him; the darkness hadn't phased her at all.

Strange. He was only half-serious about that theory, but it seemed there really was something unusual about her. The ambient magic of the chapel made it hard to tell. "Why waste the effort? There are traps to do that for me." If looks could kill -- well, he was already dead, so no need to worry about that.

He sighed and surveyed their party again. Nothing interesting at all. The knight with the torch had a look of nobility about him, as did the girl with ringlets that threw the first spell; the one he'd run into had come out of hiding, but she didn't look particularly dangerous. The other two knights were wandering off, perhaps on orders to survey their surroundings. Smart move. He almost wished there really were traps to disarm or otherwise cause trouble. He'd been careless.

But as they said, most humans weren't stupid enough to seek Lorien. He and his mistress had spent years cultivating the rumors, legends, and grisly murders that kept their base of operations safe. It was unfortunate that her death difused the city's defenses.

"I know you won't believe me, but I don't want trouble." He held his hands up placatingly, glancing between Claira and her friend. "There's nothing here, and I'd just as soon leave. As soon as the weather clears up I plan to search for better prospects. This place is very unpleasant as a camping ground, as I'm sure you'll find out for yourselves, later." He'd have to rustle up a few ghosts for their benefit. A zombie or two wouldn't hurt either, but they'd be able to trace that back to him. Pity.

"Why don't you share, then?" Claira said, a smile he didn't entirely trust spreading on her pale face. She looked like a vampire herself, dark of hair, skin like powder. "Our camp won't be burdened by one more."

"Are you /crazy/?" her friend demanded. "We don't know anything about him! He could be lying-"

"I agree with her," the blond knight said stiffly, glancing at the girl with ringlets. "It wouldn't be safe, even if he is who he says he is."

Claira shrugged. "Nor would it be safe to let him run off on his own, if you'd like to reason it that way." Her eyes were pools of blackness, like the shadows shrouding the city, and her smile didn't reach them. Judas rather liked that. "I only want to talk. We can discuss other arrangements later."

"I know you like to pick up strays, Claira, but /must/ you--"

"That's enough," Claira cut her friend off again, and it was a relief when her gaze moved away. "If you're so nervous, Ashlin, why don't you keep an eye on him? You'll be taking first watch anyway."

Ashlin's sigh was sharp and her glare, if possible, grew chillier, as if she'd decided to blame him for Claira's decision.

Judas grinned and bent in a courtly bow. "I accept your invitation."