Flash Fiction: Obi Travalar, Chapter VI

by Peter O'Keefe
CHAPTER SIX: The Conjuror of Lupa

At long last, the troop reached the village of Lupa. It was not a large town, but neither was it small. The day had begun to turn dark early, and Cole suspected that it would rain that night sometime. 
       “Since we're in town and rain in possible,” he said, “I think we should get a room at the nearest inn for the night.”
       Obi and Nancy were excited to hear this. They had never been to sleep at any inns, and Obi had never even been in one. Cole lead them diligently through the maze of the town. It was a rather run down place altogether, with dark, looming houses that told of long ago splendor and glory. Now, it was mostly home to street bums, smugglers and rats. This was not the ideal place to spend the night, but at least Cole knew a thing or two about dealing with evil people. Obi and Nancy were confident in his abilities.
       “Remind me tomorrow,” said the man, “that we have to have sword lessons.”
       “Really? Whatever for?”asked Obi. Cole smiled and said, “You're never going to believe this, but it's actually to train you two with the sword.”        “Nancy too? You have another spare sword on you?”
       “Nope. As a matter of fact, I got to thinking: I can't give you the sword. What if Nancy turns out to be better at fighting than you? So, I will give you two classes each night, and eventually, you'll have a ‘battle’ to see who is best and gets to keep the sword. Sound fair?”
       Nancy thought it did, but Obi said, “No! I'm the one they're after, so what do I do if they come for me?”
       “Get away from them. It's a pretty simple tactic.”
       “Yeah, Obi!”admonished Nancy. “So if you want it, you're going to have to earn it! The swordsmen at the festival have taught me a thing or two.”
       Gulp. 
       “But why bring this up now?”asked Obi. Cole shrugged and said, “Well, look at this place. It's more dilapidated than I thought. Where poverty runs deep, so do thieves, and the most desperate criminals. They're more desperate than well-to-do villains, because when you, and maybe your wife and children, are starving, you can't come home empty handed.”
       The kids nodded. That made sense. Obi just didn't like the idea of not having the sword to himself. True, he had never once used it effectively as of yet, but it made him feel more grown up. If he was to protect Nancy, he felt that he should be the one with the weapon, not her.         And this place wasn't helping anything. The scent of evil lurked in this village, through the shabby and dark houses, the people on the streets eying them hungrily; the place was intoxicating with the smell of criminals and debts. This was the kind of town where you knew the town guards were more likely to add to the problem than to the solution. At one point, they actually passed one of the town watch. Obi was surprised at how old and fat he was. He had at least expected to see a younger, more fit guy to be in the guard, but this man was just about as far from fit as he could possibly be. His armor was shabby, old, and rusty; the same goes for the blunt blade he had stuffed into his belt. And even though these were not desirable traits, the thing about him that was most horrible was none of them. It was the fact that he was very clearly drunk.
       Obi and Nancy were disgusted to see one of the village’s police guard was intoxicated, and in uniform! But Cole hardly reacted to it aside from putting his hand to his belt, where he kept his weapon. When they had passed the man, Nancy snorted and said, “That was the most disgraceful sight I have ever seen! Why do they allow men like that to protect them?!”        “Because the world doesn't run on truth,” said the man mysteriously. “Only politics.”
       This line had a deep impact on Obi. As he cast his gaze around the town, he couldn't help but think of how delusional a world it was if men like that guard could hold office, or men like Ru
Gaffa could run free around the country killing people. It was a troubling concept.
       Finally, they came to Lupa’s inn, a thrown-together affair that was called The Bucket. This didn't sound promising, but Cole strolled into it like he owned the place.
       Inside was a little more welcoming than the rest of the village. People stood at a bar and in their chairs, casually talking and drinking, while the bartender made them drinks while simultaneously reading from a book. He was evidently bored. The place was not yet crowded, but it would become so this night. 
       Obi liked the look of this place. It was so welcoming. The floor was a nice wood that practically shone from all the scrubbing, the light reflecting off it in a satisfying way. The walls were painted a friendly yellow, and a crystal chandelier cast yellow light all over the place. The bar was in the center of the room, extending all the way to a doorway that lead to a kitchen, splitting the room in two. This particular inn seemed to be particularly well-kept, a very clean environment that made Obi feel a lot better about staying here. Hopefully the bedrooms had the same effect.
       Cole and the kids stepped over to the bar, where the man asked them, “What would you like today, sir? Of course, these kids can't have alcohol, but we've got a good supply of whiskey from the east.”
       “Not today, Darren,” said Cole casually. “We came for a room. We're just staying the night, and we don't want to be placed with other people. This is serious business.”
       Darren laughed and said, “When is it not? You are quite a man, my good Master Harrel!”        Obi and Nancy exchanged a glance critically. These two men knew each other, but not by the real names? This was mysterious.
       “Can you spare the room?”asked the man impatiently. Darren thought for a moment, then said, “We have somebody leaving today. You can have his room. But he's not gone yet. If you can stand the wait, you can have it.”
       “As long as we have it for tonight, I'm fine,” Cole said. He opened up his coat and pulled out his money. “How much?”
       “You're leaving in the morning, like always right? So I think I'll give it to you for half price.
Take care of the kids, Mr. Harrel; here, some rolls and butter for them, my treat.”
       He passed them to Obi and Nancy. The two hungry kids sent to eating them immediately. Obi had never tasted the likes of warm bread with warm butter. It was glorious. Master Darren
laughed at how much they enjoyed them. “You underfeeding them?”
       “No, they're used to humbler meals, is all. What kind of merchants do you have in town, by the way? We might do some shopping.”
       He handed over his fees to the bartender. Then Darren answered, “Well, we have a couple from Osêria, as usual; we've also got some from the capital, and a few foreigners. Actually, I believe we have a guy from Xenophilis here. He's selling the best fruits I have ever tasted.”
       “Anyone selling good clothing?”asked Cole.
       “Hmmmmm… yeah, we got a clothing merchant or two. Maybe not up to your standards, but we got ‘em alright.”
       “Okay, thanks for your time,” said Cole gratefully. “By the way, I was never here, right?”        “Of course not. I've never seen you in my life.”
        Cole nodded, then lead the way out of the Bucket. They then attempted to find where the marketplaces were, which which was not a very difficult task. Soon, they discovered a nice one, that was pretty filled up (Cole said it was best for crowded markets, because then it was less likely some spy ever saw them). 
        “Why doesn't Master Darren know your name?”Nancy asked the man, a little troubled.         “Um, he does. He knows everything about me. We're good friends, we go way back. He just doesn't use it in public is all.”
        They eventually found a place that sold decent, travel-ready clothing, and once they had, Cole said to the kids, “Okay, listen up: we are here to disguise you from Ru Gaffa, so try to look as different from you do now as you possibly can, alright?”         “Wait, we get to pick out the clothes?”asked Nancy excitedly.
        “Yes, you do. You're both big kids. Anyway, I am only giving you a couple pieces of silver, so don't get too crazy, okay?”
       He measured out some money to both of them. He was surprisingly more generous than he had told them he would be. Then he said, “There are some rules for Obi, though. You must pick out colors that blend in easily with a landscape, like brown or green. I hope you never have to use it that way, but I won't take chances. Next, you must have a head covering of some kind. I'm only buying you clothes to disguise you from the Vikings, but if they recognized your face, it's all in vain. Other than those two rules, have fun.”
       “Quick question,” announced Nancy. “You told Obi to get natural colors, but does that apply to me? I'm more of a blue and purple person.”
        “If you want blue and purple, knock yourself out. That rule just goes for Obi. But if we ever want you to camouflage, you'll be found first.”
       Nancy looked sad for a minute. Then she brightened and said, “Oh, I can just get a big brown cape so I can wear it over my other clothes!”
        She hurried away. Cole rolled his eyes at Obi, who snickered. Then the boy offered, “Girls will be girls.”
       “Oh really? Thanks for the tip. Now go get your disguise.”
       Obi was eager to do just that. He had never actually picked out clothes for himself before. Mrs. Travalar had seen to that. And he was not exactly sure which sizes to get, but he was confident he could wing it. How hard could it be getting a couple of things from a merchant?        He walked up to the nearest shop, where the finest silks and cloaks Obi had ever seen hung. The shop owner was a very excitable man, who acted as if he were afraid of upsetting anyone, even just a kid like Obi.
       “Can I take a look around?”Obi asked the man casually. The store owner nodded graciously, and said, “By all means! I must leave this place in an hour, so I need to sell as much as I can.”        This was, perhaps, not the best thing he could have told a customer. For the wheels in Obi’s head immediately began to turn, and he realized that he could probably get the fabrics and such for a very low price. He attempted to crack his fingers dramatically (failed) then said, “I don't know, I'm a slow shopper. I also have a limited budget. I take a long time considering whether something is worth their price. But I probably won't be an hour, so you don't have anything to worry about. Probably.”
       The salesman looked nervous. He was wiping sweat from his forehead, apparently greatly upset by this proclamation. But he smiled coldly and said in reply, “By all means.”
       Obi began to sift through all the fine clothing and cloaks and silks, and he had never seen so much finery in one place, aside from maybe the festival itself. Now that he was here, he realized that he truly was taking a long time to decide. In the end, however, the merchant had not lowered any prices, and Obi felt that the others would be exasperated with him by now. This merchant wasn't as weak as Obi had supposed.
       The boy chose for himself a reddish brown cloak that reached to the knees, and the sleeves only reached to his elbows. He also took a pair of long, fingerless gloves that extended far up onto his arm; a brown belt with golden markings on it; fine, dark brown boots that also had similar gold markings on them; and a pair of tan colored pants that looked much like the ones he was wearing, aside from the rips in the knees.
       “Good choice, sir,” mumbled the merchant, who now looked like he was in dreadful need of a slumber. Obi payed him a couple pieces of silver, almost all the silver he had been given. The salesman told him to have a good day, Obi assured him he would, and then hurried off to spot where Cole had last been.
       When he got there, he found the man waiting for him. Nancy was still not present as of yet.        “There you are, Henry! What took so long?”grumbled the man. Obi took a second glance around, then said, “But Nancy isn't here either!”
       “She's a girl. Girls always take longer with these kind of things. What's your excuse?”        Obi explained how he had been attempting to scare the merchant into selling it to him cheaper. Cole shook his head sadly and said, “You can never fool a salesman, my boy. They're sharper than you would think.”
       “Well thanks alot for telling me now!”
       “You're welcome. Oh, you had better get changed… somewhere. Meet me back here in a minute.”
       Obi nodded. After several minutes of trying to find the right place, he found an outhouse that nobody was using. It was new, so it didn't smell too bad. When he was done, he complimented himself on his choice of clothing. He thought he looked very dashing in his new cloak. He returned to Cole, where he saw the man and Nancy standing impatiently.
       “There you are!”said Nancy, as if he hadn't taken approximately forever. “Oh, I need to get changed. Where did you go?”
       He gave her directions, and she left in a jiffy. After eying Obi critically, Cole said, “Hey, where's the head covering I told you to get?”
       “I've got it,” he replied, whipping on the hood to his cloak. He thought this gave him a mysterious air, but not so Cole.
       “Are you kidding me? A thirteen year old kid wearing a hood? Do you realize how suspicious that is? The Vikings will be looking out for a boy dressed in red, then they think you got a
disguise, then they see a little kid walking around with a hood on! In the middle of the day!”        Cole grabbed something from a nearby store, shoving a coin in the merchant’s hand. He had picked out a tan colored flat cap. He shoved it on Obi’s heard and said, “There! Much better!”        “I look like a clown!”objected Obi, who, though he couldn't see himself, was pretty good at guessing. Cole shrugged and said, “Sorry to break it to you, but it wasn't the hat that did that.”
       Ouch. Obi had nothing more to say after that.
       Eventually, Nancy returned, wearing a blue tunic, purple belt and shoes, and a weird purple cape thing. They now had nothing else to do, so they decided to return to the inn to see if their room was ready yet.
       When they got there, they found out that they could indeed occupy their bedroom. The room was relatively large, with two beds and a chest of drawers. As soon as Obi saw there were only two beds, he knew he would be sleeping on the floor instead of on a nice, comfy bed. Cole would want to give one to Nancy because he was so ‘chivalrous’, and then he would get one because he was so ‘old’. Obi wished they were back to sleeping on the road. At least then, the others would have to go through the same misery he was.
       “Okay, I want you two to stay here,” said Cole to the kids. “I have an important task to accomplish, but you two need to stay out of the eyes of the public as much as possible. Stay here until I come back.”
       And with that, he plunged back into the chaos of the vastly crowding bar and left the two confused kids alone. 
       “That guy always has something to do,” sighed Obi. He gave a all-knowing tsk-tsk-tsk. Nancy was bored, and announced so loudly. In the end, they resorted to playing a game of checkers while they waited (it was kind of nice that their room came with checkers, even if one of the pieces was missing, and they had to use the Orb as a gigantic replacement). 
       After they'd had their championship round in which it was a tie, they were even more bored to begin with. Cole had been gone forty-five minutes and given them nothing to do. It was dreadful. The darkness of the night outside almost seemed to be creeping into their very room.
Soon, it was so dark outside that the two kids couldn't see a thing outside the window.
       “I'm hungry,” proclaimed Obi after a while.
       “So am I,” said Nancy bleakly. “But unless you have food, there's no point in talking about it.”
       “Well, no more food. But I still have a few coins left from Cole. We could go downstairs to the bar and get a snack, then come back up here.”
       “But he told us not to leave.”
       “He just meant to stay out of trouble. And I'm hungry.”
       “But the bar is really crowded now, and I hate crowds.”
       “Yeah, about that… how do you live at a festival, near one of the biggest cities in the country, and manage to hate crowds?”
       Nancy snorted. “You idiot! I hate crowds because I'm always around them. And usually, they're trying to rob something from me, and this town promises to do nothing different.”
       Obi sighed. “Can we just go down and get something? It will only take a minute.”
       “I don't want to,” said Nancy stubbornly.
       “Then you won't get any. And if I'm confronted by a Viking, I won't be able to fight him off because there's only one of me. And I'll die.”
       “Good,” said Nancy grouchily. But she still agreed to go with him.
       As soon as they exited the room, a wave of noise blasted them fiercely, causing them to jump back in surprise. Wow. The doors were surprisingly sound-proof. The two kids mustered up their courage, then headed downstairs, where all the chaos was going on. 
       The first thing they saw upon arriving at the bar was a fist fight.
       “OBI, YOU IDIOT!”screamed Nancy, who had no desire to become involved in any conflicts.        “Relax, it'll be resolved!”said Obi confidently. It soon was. But only when one of the fighters won the match. The other was knocked into a table, spreading beer bottles and food all over the place. The loser was helped to his feet by his most loyal friends, and then the bouncer politely threw them out of the inn. 
       “Gulp,” said Obi loudly. However loud it was, it could not be heard over the sound of drunk humanity. 
       “Okay, we have to stick together!”yelled Nancy. “You lead the way!”
       Obi nodded, and grabbing her by the wrist, he pulled her along into the masses before him. The next moments were chaotic, and almost saw the end of the kids, but luckily, no more fights were going on at this point in time.
       When they came to the bar, Master Darren wasn't there. Instead, he was replaced by a sprightly, drunk young fellow who didn't look totally sure of which century he was in. 
       “Can we have some bread?”Obi hollered to him.
       “What's that, sonny?”
       “I want some bread! And butter!”
       “Sorry, kid, we don't sell pigs, with or without oranges.”
       Obi sighed. Was this for real? Where did he get pigs from? Or oranges? He decided to try one more time. He yelled impressively, “CAN I HAVE SOME BREAD AND BUTTER?!?!”
       “Bread and butter? Okay, but try to keep it down; we don't like a lot of noise in this place.”        “Which explains the screaming drunk guys,” muttered Nancy.
       “They're not all drunk!”said the bartender. Nancy was ashamed that her comment had gone heard. But Obi was just annoyed.
        “You heard what she said when she whispers, but not what I said when I was yelling?”        “What'd you say?”
       Obi gave up. He gestured for the man to get them their bread, but men who are not entirely sober are not the wisest when it comes to universal gestures. Obi had to scream abnormally loud again. Finally, the bartender was on his way, giving a lazy salute and stumbling back to the kitchen. Now all Obi and Nancy could do was wait.
       “Hey you there! Kids!”came a roar from behind. They both jumped, and whipped around, wishing they had brought their sword with them. The man behind them was a mega-sized one
who'd had one drink too many in a single evening. He bounded over and hollered, “THIS AIN’T
NO PLACE FOR KIDS! GET OUTTA HERE BEFORE I KICK YOU OUT!”
       Well this was certainly scary. Obi nodded meekly, then turned back to head upstairs. But the jerk of a fellow grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and said, “OH NO YOU DON’T! LEAVE THE INN NOW!”
       There was nothing the kids could do now. They humbly left, to the immense delight of the brute. Apparently it was a huge accomplishment for a giant drunk guy to scare two kids away.        “What'll we do now?”complained Nancy heatedly. “This is all so stupid! How will we get back in now, before Cole does? This is all your fault!” She stopped a second. Then she asked, “Wait, did he hurt you?”
       “Hm? Oh, no, he just grabbed my shoulder. It hurt for a second, but it's good now.”        Obi was kind of surprised she had asked. To tell you the truth, she appeared to be a totally different person than the one he had known since he was little. Maybe he had never really known her until just now, on this crazy journey they were undertaking. It was weird when he thought about it, but it did make sense. Sort of.
       “Help!”came a strangled voice. They turned to see an old man on the side of the road, a bloody blanket covering his legs, an eyepatch over his eye. He was obviously a hobo; dirt and grime covered every square inch of his body. He stared at them pleadingly and said, “I beg you!
Spare a few coins for an old man who can not walk! Please, you must help!”
       Obi considered for a second. He still had the leftover money from Cole, since he had been banished from the bar before receiving his bread. But he was still hungry, and there were plenty of shops to buy food in. But looking at the poor old man, he had a change of heart.
       “Here, you need it more than I do,” said Obi generously, handing over the rest of the coins he had. The old man was so happy that Obi couldn't help but smile and feel bad for him at the same time. 
       Nancy was also happy. “Good job, Obi!”she said proudly.
       The old man, a grateful tear still in his eye, got to his feet and ran away.
       “Hey!”yelled Obi. “He really can use his legs! He tricked me out of my money! What a jerk!”        “Why did you have to give money to a random street bum in the first place?”asked Nancy, as if she hadn't just complimented him for it 16.4 seconds ago. 
       Well, this certainly had the two of them bummed out even more. They made their way to the back of the inn, to see if there was another entrance. There was, but when they knocked on it, a cook told them this was not a public entryway. Then he slammed the door in their faces.        “Wow, this town sure is polite,” said Nancy with a scowl. Now they were out of options. And still hungry.
       “I guess we wait for Cole then?”asked Obi. The girl nodded, and they started to go back up front again. When they were almost there, however, they were stopped quite suddenly.
       “Excuse me,” said a random kid from the street. He was about their age, but unusually fat for someone who lived in a poor town. He had two other boys with him, one short and skinny, the other tall and skinny, though they were all roughly the same age.
       “Sorry, I'm Charlie,” said the fat kid hastily. “I just have a quick question for you: did the hot sauce sink in the marmalade theory?”
       “I'm sorry, which country am I in again?”asked Obi. He seriously did not understand a word that had been told to him. Partially because he had never heard of hot sauce. Or marmalade. Or theories.
       The fat kid and his companions suddenly took on a very scared look. Then they asked, “So, you're not the Conjuror’s messengers?”
       “Who's the conjuror?”asked Obi. They immediately took on a surprised expression. The tall one said, “Everyone knows who the Conjuror is. He's famous, world-wide. He was supposed to
be sending his assistants here ahead of time to let us know when he's arriving.”
       “So we naturally assumed you were the messengers,” added Charlie, politely but needlessly. Obi shook his head and said, “No, we're from out of town. We're just staying at the inn, waiting for our… dad to come.”
       “Oh, okay,” said the taller boy. “I'm Jared, just so you know. Does your friend ever talk much?”
       Nancy looked annoyed by that, her cheeks turning slightly red. Obi jumped to her help. “Of course! She just doesn't like it when, um, strangers come up to her and randomly introduce themselves. To be perfectly honest, I'm not a fan of it either, so if you'll excuse us…”
       “Hold it!”said the shorter kid, speaking for the first time, in a squeaky, annoying voice. “Don't you want to see the Conjuror? You'll love him. He's such a cool guy, and he only comes every once in a while. This might be your only chance if you're not staying long!”
       “And if you have nothing else to do while you're waiting,” put in the boy named Jared. 
       “What do you say?”said the fat kid Charlie. “He always gives the new kids a free sample of Leerman’s Fire.”
       “As tempting as that sounds, my dad will probably be here any minute,” assured Obi. But to be honest, they didn't give him much of a choice. They kept on begging him and saying how fun it would be, while at the same time not revealing a thing about what was going on. After the short kid (whose name they now knew to be Mark) cornered them with his finest bits of knowledge, Obi decided to tag along, but just for a little while. Nancy was not pleased about this, but was also reluctant to say so in front of the hooligans present. Obi shrugged. Who knows? Maybe they would be selling something good, like food. Whatever Leerman’s Fire was, it didn't sound half bad.
       Charlie led the way proudly, keeping to the alleys and dark streets ‘for safety reasons’. Both Obi and Nancy secretly made sure to memorize the way to get back to the Bucket. Thankfully, the place where the Conjuror would appear was not ridiculously far away, so the two kids managed to remember the way home. 
       Where Charlie had taken them was a large congregation of kids behind an abandoned warehouse. A few of them had lanterns for light, but darkness consumed most of the gathering. One thing Obi and Nancy were quick to notice was how old everyone else was. They were the youngest ones there. Everyone else was either in their mid to late teens or early twenties. That kind of made Obi uneasy, but he couldn't turn back now without upsetting Charlie, Jared and Mark. 
       “We should go back,” Nancy whispered to Obi. “I don't like the idea of this ‘conjuror’. It sounds shady. Plus, my instincts are screaming at me to get out of here.”
       Obi may not have had the finest instincts, but he was pretty sure they were telling him the same thing. He should never have come here.
       “Okay,” he said quietly. But as they started to pull away, they heard Mark shout, “Hey, look!
The Conjuror is here “
       Everyone cheered. Obi had to see who this person was. He inched closer, and saw a wagon coming from a side alley, a single man at the seat. He couldn't distinguish any features from here, so he decided to get closer to see. An exasperated Nancy followed him, muttering complaints.        The Conjuror descended the wagon, to the immense delight of the crowd around here. Obi could see that this man was rather disturbing one to look at. He was skinny and unhealthy, dressed in black from head to toe. His scarce brown hair hung from his head in sorrowful clumps, and a stringy mustache made it perhaps even more horrible. But the scariest thing about him was his eyes. They weren't completely focused on anything, and worse, they were pointing slightly different directions. Obi decided that he wanted to get out now, but the crowds were so thick that escape was impossible. 
       “Greetings! It is I, the Conjuror!”yelled the man with zeal. The crowd cheered. Then he said,
“I haven't been here for what, a month? How are your stashes of miracles? Still full?”
       “No!”chorused the crowd. The the man said, “Well good! I have a new batch of them fresh!
Anyone new here?”
       One or two hands went up. Obi and Nancy decided not to raise their hands, much to the irritation of Jared. The Conjuror tossed small bags to the outreached hands and said, “Leerman's
Fire, free of charge! By the way, does anybody else want to buy some?”
       A few people did, but most people booed instead. Someone from the audience yelled, “Go get ‘em, Charlie! That’s all you can handle!”
       A chorus of laughs followed this. Obi and Nancy didn't get it .
       “I'm going for the better stuff tonight,” said Charlie proudly. Obi still had no idea what was going on, but everyone who had taken some of Leerman's Fire had now taken out a pipe and begun to smoke. 
       “Now they'll all die mysterious deaths,” mourned Obi softly.
       “Hm?”said Nancy, who wasn't certain she had heard him correctly.
       “‘Those who smoke as kids will be killed early in life.’”
       “Are you seriously consulting your silly superstitions at a time like this? We have got to get out of here! Now!”
       The Conjuror now began selling other products, ones with cool names but still all gave Obi a bad feeling. Most of the older people present took these, and Obi couldn't help but notice they all were gloomy, angry, and frankly, hideous to behold. Whatever the Conjuror was giving to them, it was ruining them.
       Obi turned to Mark and asked, “What does this stuff even do for you?”
       “Oh, you know,” answered the boy. “It can make you feel more confident about yourself, it can make you forget your troubles for a while, and some of us are even beaten by our parents brutally, so we take this stuff to subside the pain. It's great!”
       While everyone else thought it was great, Obi and Nancy realized that this stuff wasn't helping these kids in any way. Not one of them was actually any better off than they were before.
Most of them were almost like zombies.
       And behind it all was this insane evildoer, the Conjuror. Obi had seen evil before, like the Vikings at the festival. But no matter how horrible and brutal Ru Gaffa was, this crazy man before him was much worse. Maybe it was the way he was shriveled up that gave it away, or maybe it was all the terrible objects he was selling to kids who would be happier without them. But Obi knew the main way he could tell this man was evil was by the darkness in his rabid eyes, they way light steered clear of them, and they way kids cowered away under his penetrating gaze. It was terrifying.
       Obi grabbed Nancy by the hand, and slowly started to weave his way through the audience.
But the Conjuror noticed them leaving.
       “Hey! You there! Would you like any of my amazing potions and concoctions? You will be astounded by their healing properties!”
       “Um, no thanks,” said Obi hurriedly. “Not today. Maybe next time.”
       The Conjuror watched them leaving with the scariest of gleams in his crazed eyes. Obi and Nancy scampered away, and once they got out of the audience, they ran as fast as they could, not caring that a couple score of people were watching them. 
       Down the dark avenues they ran, dodging random citizens and ignoring when street bums called out for money. Finally, they came to the Bucket, where they could hear the insanity still going on. Obi kept on running, and didn't see the wall in time.        “Ow!”he complained. “I hit my toe on the inn wall! Gosh it hurts!”
       A dastardly grin spread itself on Nancy’s face, and she said, “I guess you just kicked the Bucket, didn't yo, Obi?”
       “Seriously? Are you making dumb jokes now?”
       “Henry! Nancy!”came a call. It was Cole, striding towards them, looking all business. He also looked pretty angry.
       “What did I tell you two? Do you have any idea what could have happened? What if the Vikings were in town and recognized you? If they had, you would be in enemy hands now! That goes for both of you!”
       He lead the way back through the bar, and back upstairs to their rented room. He bolted the doors with a bolt that had not been there previously, which showed that Cole had returned to the room, which showed that he had gone out to search for them.
       “Now, tell me what happened,” demanded Cole. And slowly, Obi and Nancy began to tell the story, each telling the parts they had disliked the least. They told about how Obi had gotten them into this mess because he was hungry, and how Nancy had insulted a bunch of people at the bar, which had most likely been what kicked them out, and how Obi just had to comply to the wishes of three random kids and a homeless beggar, and how Nancy hadn't done anything to stop any of this or help Obi with arguing with the random kids. But when they got to the part about the
Conjuror, Cole seemed especially concerned.
       “Wait, you saw this man selling these things? Why didn't you call the town guards or something?”
       “They would have been drunk,” objected Obi. “And they most likely buy these things, too.”       
       He had a point. But just when Cole was about to launch into a long, probably annoying pep talk, there was a knock at the door. Cole hushed them, and whispered shrilly, “Hide! Both of you!”     
       Nancy was quick to roll under one of the beds, and Obi sought refuge in a closet, leaving the door open a crack. Cole unbolted the door slowly, then swung it open.
       The man at the door was Raldin the Wizard. 
   To be continued...

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