May F.A.C Entry

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It's small and it flies, but it's like no bird you've ever seen. How did this get in the hen house?

These thoughts flew through Abram's mind as he stared at the card table in front of him.  The time worn cards spoke a story of loss and defeat, screaming at him to throw in the towel.  A seedy bar on the waterfront of Infernos town, the bird in question, a pixie, smiled at him from across the table, challenging the thief to raise the stakes.  Pixies were a breed normally kept away from the gambling den, owing to an unhuman ability to see through the most complex bluffs.  The old agent sighed; anything went in this part of town. 

"You win fair Pixie.  I know when I'm bested."
Paper aces tumbled to the table.

Disgust lined a pockmarked face as the Regal Thief got up and staggered to the door.  The night of booze and cigarette smoke muddled his mind, eyes smarting and vision blurring as a shaky hand reached towards the handle.  It had been a costly night, and it would take weeks to earn the money back

He stepped out into the night, the brisk air biting his drink reddened cheeks, pulling his longcoat tight over his greaves and chest-plate.  This was a dangerous part of town and a man of his appearance hardly seemed able to defend.  At just over five foot, he knew he wasn’t the tallest elf wandering the world.  His slight frame didn't hold the promise of strength, nor did the wiry muscles that moved bare below the elbow offer the idea of power.

Frowning at the loss, over a thousand gold, he gathered himself and dawdled in the general direction of the Inn, a place of ill content where a bed awaited.  The wind of the seafront slipped under his clothing like a knife into skin.  Stars twinkled in a velvet sky, the moon hanging like a distant and unattached eye.  Tonight it was full, a symbol of high energy and power among the magick wielders. 

"Greetings, Fair Mother" he spoke up to the moon, raising his right hand and shooting a ball of light to the cosmos.  Respect for the Lunar Cycle was vital; it would not be fair to slight the divine being who provided his power.

On the left was a shortcut to the Inn, which Abram turned into, the darkness and squalor of the alley enveloping him.  He walked quickly, his angled ears pricking for any sign that something was amiss.  Halfway down he stopped, pulling himself deeper into the shadows and holding his breath. Skin prickled under the chest plate, ears perked and alarm bells rang.  Something was amiss.

The air around the spot he had just stood in seemed to bend on itself, a vortex appearing as an explosion split the silence.  Two shapes appeared, one the Fae from the card table.  Echoing thumps sounded as they ran in his direction.   

A lilting male voice spoke.  "He was here moments ago Freyana, I know it."

"You are right Gunthos.  Don’t worry, your tracking ability hasn't let you down," the voice was higher, female,  "he still hides within this darkness.  Come out old fox, we've blocked your den,” came the taunting challenge.

Abram heard an inrush of air, then a spell exploded into his chest.   
Suddenly he went stiff.  His limbs froze, refusing to respond.  The female materialised in front of him, appearing not to have even moved.  Fiery eyes burned into his, holding his gaze with as much power as the spell held his body in place.  She looked at him intently, the corners of her mouth rising to sneer. 

"Think you to hide like a rat in shadows deep and we would not find you?”  Her fist collided with his jaw, which began to ache instantly.  That would bruise. 

“We are Her hunters.  You, old one, are of a different stock. " Laughter split the air, "Our Queen would like a word with you Abram.  Best not to keep her waiting, hmm?"

The fiery eyes intensified, the energy in the air intensified.  Abrams eyes fought against his will, impossible to keep open as much as he fought they....

He came round minutes, or hours later.  Prone and bound tightly, the smell of root and leaf reached him, rotting and mossy.  Straining his eyes into the blackness surrounding him he struggled to make out his surroundings. A massive oak towered nearby, Freyana and Gunthos lounged idly on either side, eyes on a huge opening in the base of the tree.  Waiting.

He knew what for. 

Somewhere nearby a gong rang, its clear note vibrating through the clearing.  The gap in the tree shone like the light of a million fireflies swirling in a never-ending spiral and a figure appeared in it. 

Queen of Fae materialised, stepping lightly over the rotting wood to stand over her prisoner. 

Diminutive in stature, no more than four feet tall, she was not one to be underestimated for she held the full power of the Faerie Realm.  She eyed him in anger, tight lines at her brow and cheeks.

"You really thought that planting a fakery in the throne room would elude me, spy?"

He understood her annoyance, laughing inwardly at the joke he had played.  Well, he had to do something for fun, and replacing her wand had been something of a goal when he had risen to the rank of Regal Spy. 

"I ask your pardon your majesty.  I was simply exercising my skill as was taught me by your Guild Masters.  Where best to test myself than on your royal person.  My apologies for your trouble, may I return your wand to you and shall we call our peace?"

The Queen stood silent.  She would be considering his words and deeds thoroughly and was not one to be crossed.  Abram hoped her wisdom in knowing a strong pawn when she saw one would prevail. 

Time held its breath as he waited for her judgement.  Finally her face relaxed, and where before rage had radiated only a slight aggravation remained. 

"Rise, Spy-Master.  Only the best wielder of the shadows could have possibly defeated the enchantments and security around my person and possession. Be proud of your accomplishment, and your mentor.  He taught you well."

Azure eyes narrowed in anger once more.  "However, do not think this matter over completely.  You will pay for your actions at some point.  I just have not the time to think of something more…fitting."

Abram was disturbed by the malice dripping from the words of the Queen like fat from a roasting hog.  Placing the future to the back of his mind he settled with being off the hook for now.  The blood rushed back to his veins, warmth seeping to his body as the ropes disappeared.  He stayed in position, lower than the Queen in both physical presence and status. 

"Aye, your Majesty.  I am but your servant, and only you shall I serve in my actions.  What would you have of me?"

A moment passed.  The Queen's face betrayed nothing. 

"Return to your quarters within the guild, Spy-Master.  Officially, your mentor is now re-assigned and you shall take his place.  Do not disappoint me."

The beautiful and terrible Queen stepped back once more into the portal and vanished in a blink of light.  All that remained of her in a moment was a lingering fragrance. 

This had gone better than he hoped.  Rising to his feet he smiled up at the Moon.  The Fair Mother surely blessed him.  Moving forward, preparing the spell of teleportation, his hands traced the mystic motions, golden light appearing between them.  It moved to rest above his head then expanded, filling him completely.  Every fibre of his being sparkled with the golden energy, his appearance fading to a shimmer as the magic took hold. Finally he was truly invisible in the human realm, existing only in the Fae.

Appearing in his quarters, he found his bed awaiting him like an old friend.  Nothing had changed.  Well, nothing but his position.  He grinned in amusement at the turn of events his theft had caused.  What better could he ask for?

The newly appointed Spy-Master and Regal Thief smiled.  Things were finally going his way.