Quail tries to smile at Nimby, but the tears in his eyes are already clouding his vision. Not wanting to talk, the chaos elf pulls a drawing out of his pocket and hands it to Trinity. The small, but detailed, image shows a young chaos elf with blonde hair on the lap of an elderly calico. The woman is heavily wrinkled and her feline tail droops to the floor, which contrasts with the vibrant smile on her face. Even though her shirt has two sleeves, it is obvious that her left arm ends at the elbow. Scars are on her cheeks and one of her tufted ears is nothing more than a mangled opening on the side of her head. A collection of maps covers the background wall, but the artist decided to save time by making them look the same. Quail nods for Trinity to share the picture with Nimby, whose skeletal hand snatches it out of curiosity.
“I called her Grandma Babs even though she acted like my mother,” the young man explains while rolling a fruit between his hands. Taking the picture back, he gives it a kiss and puts it away with a sad smile. “This was her ring and she was able to fight. Her style was nothing more than brute force, but it got the job done. It also left her with scars and injuries that would never fully heal. That’s why she made me promise to avoid fighting at all costs and I’ve held onto my oath. Maybe my luck will run out one day, but she raised me as her own and I don’t want to insult her memory by breaking my word.”
“If you had broken free then you would have had to fight the winged elves,” Trinity says with a nod. Glancing at Vile, she is amused to see him cross his arms and turn his back to the conversation. “Promises and honor are something the rest of us know well. At least three of us since we’re never sure about Tyler. It’s very important that you keep your word, especially if you plan to see her on the other side. Still, you can’t go on adventures without at least defending yourself. What would happen if my life was in danger?”
“I would try to save you. Grandma Babs didn’t want me to fight, but I don’t believe she would be happy if I let someone die,” Quail replies in a quivering voice. Fearing that he has angered his Queen, the mapper kneels and puts his head against the damp ground. “You have my word that I will protect you. Though it might not be brave, I do have the strength to carry you and escape danger. Besides, the Troll Ring giving me power doesn’t mean I will be useful if a battle breaks out. One can see why an inexperienced warrior would be a bigger liability than a strong man who wishes to retreat.”
General Vile lies down and puts his hands over his ears as he declares, “Leave me out of this conversation. Nobody wants to listen to me and I lack the authority to threaten everyone into obeying me. Do whatever you think is right, but never expect me to come to the rescue, you spineless bug.”
“I could contact this woman and get permission,” the Lich suggests, his impatience exposed by a twitching finger. The hand reaches out for the tree, but Nimby smacks it away before it can infect the plant. “This conversation is pointless and wasting time. All of us agree that we are in a rush to find the crests. So, why don’t we find some middle ground? Promises like this are vague enough that you can twist them. Otherwise, you cripple yourself in a situation that anyone else could get out of.”
“Can I point out that I hate when he makes sense?” Nimby asks while examining one of the fruit pits. With a shrug, he collects more of them and puts them in a pouch along with his remaining sling stones. “She probably didn’t want you to lay down and die, Quail. That isn’t what a stable parent would request. They wouldn’t suggest that you kill every potential enemy too, but that’s not important here. Maybe she only meant for you to never start a fight or get involved in a war. You can still defend yourself and your loved ones. Nobody should promise to stand by and let others get hurt or die.”
Bracing her back against the tree, Trinity gets to her feet and moves to the edge of the clouds. A cool breeze caresses her face, the sensation helping her stay relaxed and ignore the hot sun on her skin. Thoughts of the champions depending on her success and Yola lurking in the wilderness flit through her mind while she admires the scenery. Being so high above and standing on a cloud, Trinity can barely believe that she is looking at Windemere and half expects to drift toward the stars at any moment. The realization that she has never taken the time to enjoy her surroundings causes her to release a shuddering, long held breath. As much as she wants to rest, the channeler knows that they have to keep moving and their path will only become more treacherous. Whirling around, Trinity stands on her toes since her heels dangle over the open sky.
“Let’s get moving,” she announces, snapping her fingers. Stretching her arms, the chaos elf moves to stop Quail from standing by putting a hand on his shoulder. “I know you’re dedicated to me like all of our people, but I don’t’ want you to put yourself in danger. If you want to leave once we reach the ground then you can. Not sure where we can find another mapper, but I need one who I can trust in every situation. I’m really sorry, Quail, but I can’t do that with you right now. Not unless you’re willing to fight when things get tough. This isn’t fair to either of us. You have your promise and I made my own to Nyx, so we’re both being held to our oaths. It wouldn’t be right for either of us to force the other to break their promise.”
“Thank you, your . . . Queen Trinity,” Quail whispers with a half-hearted smile. Pulling the cloud map out of his sleeve, he gently taps the rolled up parchment on his knee. “Finding a new mapper will take too long, especially if we land in the wilderness. Not to mention you might recruit one who is out for treasure and those can’t be trusted. I know this puts me in a difficult situation, but I promise to help you. Grandma Babs can lecture me later if Nimby is wrong about me being allowed to defend myself and my loved ones. Not that I’m in love with you, your highness. Just that you’re very important to all of us.”
“We barely know each other, young man, so don’t think I’ll jump to that conclusion.”
“Okay. I should warn you that I don’t know the first thing about fighting.”
“You will when I’m done with you.”
“What do you mean?”
Trinity grins and puts her arm around the scrawny chaos elf’s shoulders. “Somebody is going to get daily lessons in hand-to-hand combat. I’m going to start whipping you into shape as soon as we get off these clouds. Probably have to focus on defense more because I want you to be able to protect yourself more than hurt others. Never had a student before, so this is going to be fun.”
Unsure of what he has gotten himself into, Quail can only nod in agreement until the channeler releases him. Gathering more of the fruit to put in a few empty pouches that hang from his belt, the mapper hurries to take the lead again. A chill runs up his spine and he turns around to find that Vile is staring at him with his eyes glowing brighter than before. Something about the toy unnerves the young man, but the others are too busy collecting their own snacks to notice the disturbing expression. Quail clenches his fist and averts his gaze from the figurine, who yawns and grabs Nimby’s boot as the halfling passes.
*****
“For the last time, my magic isn’t making it across the gap,” Trinity says, her head aching due to a buzzing in her skull. She hurls a lightning bolt that dies after three feet, which is at least fifty feet short of the other side. “Does the map say anything? I doubt the winged elves ever came this far since it isn’t near any twisters. Unless they travel here to get fish from the ocean down there.”
Quail scratches his head and uses his spyglass to examine the far side of the gap, but it is impossible to tell if the clouds were once attached. With Trinity holding his hand, the mapper looks at the ground and notices a path of trees that are shorter than the rest. At first, the chaos elf thinks they have been pushed into the ground, but eventually realizes that they are simply younger than the rest of the pine forest. Getting an idea, he rapidly snaps his fingers and looks out to the ocean where he spots water funnels on the horizon. Quail ignores the impatient grumbling behind him and takes his time searching for a way across or a clue as to what ha
s happened. He stops at the sight of strange, white objects bobbing in the mist that covers the coast, but he is unable to discern exactly what they are.
“My best guess is that a large hurricane made landfall here many years ago and caused irreparable damage to the path,” the mapper explains while checking the crest map. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he sees that the directions demand that they continue forward and give no hint as to how they can cross the gap. “One thing that bothers me is that the clouds should have reformed. I keep seeing the wind add little bits to the edges, but something repeatedly damages this one spot. The bridge will never return.”
“A magical storm that created a zone of hindered magic,” the Lich says with an amused cackle. He forces Nimby to the edge and stretches out to touch the numbing void that has impeded their magic. “These are rare, but that doesn’t make them any less annoying. I will have to focus my energy on keeping Vile in one piece and myself in the ring. Either of us getting ejected in there would be lethal. Best that we carry the paralyzed General.”
“Always a good sign when the ghosts are afraid of dying,” Nimby jokes, his fleshy hand juggling Quail’s spyglass. The mapper moves to take it back, but the thief easily keeps it out of reach. “Calm down. I only want to take a look around. Helps to get another pair of eyes on the problem, especially when the other set is used to looking for details. Besides, I saw you pause at something and I’m curious.”
Everyone stops when Trinity creates a beam of energy that tests the magic-diffusing area for weak points. The rounded spell pounds at the sides to see if there is a limit to its height, but it dissipates when it gets too thin to have much of an impact. Gathering the magic into a ball, she tosses it into the ocean and is surprised to hear a chorus of screeches erupt from below. She reaches for the spyglass, but Nimby ducks under her arm to take a look for himself. With a shrug, Trinity enhances her eyesight to imitate the device and stares at the waves. Whatever she disturbed has already gone back into the depths, but the white figures near the coast are now moving from side to side within the thickening mist.
Nimby taps the channeler on the arm and points at the ocean, his finger making a zigzag motion to signify lightning. Using the spyglass, he carefully moves her hand to the spot where he saw the movements of what he thinks are hundreds of creatures. The bolt lances out and loses most of its power when it skirts the edge of the magic-dissipating zone. She does her best to add energy to the weakened spell as it plunges into the ocean and stirs the animals below. A crackling light ripples among the waves before slender eels burst from the water. Their wriggling, powerful muscles launch them high enough to reach the cloud paths. Sparks fly from the bug-eyed animals as they look around for the storm that they expected to use as a breeding ground. The bolt eels continue leaping into the sky and twisting around in search of a hurricane, their dark blue bodies flattening in order to safely float back into the water.
A cacophony of bird calls erupts from the shore and the white forms reveal themselves to be giant birds. Their huge wings stretch as they snap their beaks and the fleshy pouch on their throats jiggle with every movement. Clearing the mist as they take flight, the enormous pelicans head out to sea for a few miles and veer back to hunt for bolt eels. Half of the flock soars low to stir the fish with the help of the pulsing tip of their beak, which their prey mistakes for lightning. The others glide high and spiral around the gap in the path before diving into the mass of food that bursts from the ocean. Within a few minutes, the sky is filled with wriggling eels and soaring pelicans that give little attention to the travelers.
“You have got to be kidding,” Quail says when he sees Trinity and Nimby get near the edge of the clouds. His mouth goes dry at the thought of leaping from one animal to another, the flock appearing to have no discernable a pattern. “We could end up getting tossed into the ocean or plummet to solid earth. What if we land on one that goes into a dive and has its fill? There has to be another way across this that’s more dependable.”
“Take my hand and I’ll help you,” Trinity promises, the sweat on her brow revealing her own doubts. She watches Nimby leap onto a passing pelican, the beast unaware of the small passenger. “Once we’re out there, your Troll Ring won’t work. That means you’re clumsiness won’t be a problem. So, don’t worry and just follow me. I can even bind our hands together with rope if that will make you feel better. By the way, those three won’t let us hear the end of it if they get across before us.”
With a gentle nod, Quail takes Trinity’s hand and lets her lead him into the open air. They plunge toward the earth and land on the back of a pelican with enough force to startle the hunting bird. Unlike Nimby, the chaos elves are heavy enough to be noticed and struggle to retain their balance before leaping to an animal that is heading up. They hit the wing and roll toward the body, but their ride turns in a way that Trinity nearly falls off. Quail struggles to hold on and keep his balance, the channeler repeatedly trying to swing to safety. A hissing brings the young man’s attention to a bolt eel that is sailing toward them, the creature’s mouth open wide enough for him to see the jagged teeth. Unable to dodge without dropping Trinity, he gracelessly falls off the pelican and the two chaos elves crash on the head of another bird. Its mouth opens and threatens to swallow the pair, but the violent movements eventually buck them off and they grab another’s webbed foot. Holding on tight, they find themselves going straight up as the predator prepares for a dive toward the bolt eels that are still in the water.
Before the pelican drives them into the ocean, Trinity takes Quail’s other hand and hurls both of them back into the flock. They bounce from one bird to another, their feet barely touching the soft feathers. Letting go with one hand, the channeler spins to the side during one leap to avoid an eel, its thrashing tail grazing her stomach with a shock of electricity. Gritting her teeth, Trinity continues leading them across the gap until they are close enough for her to attempt a desperate vault. Her quivering legs give at the last moment, so the chaos elves are launched almost entirely by Quail’s unenhanced strength and uncertain aim. They land in a heap, the mapper on the bottom and their clasped arms wrenched from the impact.
“You two want to rest and recover your strength . . . and your dignity?” Nimby asks with a wide grin. A muttered response is all the halfling receives, neither of the chaos elves willing to move. “Okay. We’ll have a snack and watch the birds. No shame in that. Pretty sure there’s worse ahead of us anyway.”
*****
The travelers stop at the end of the cloud path and look out over the icy landscape that is miles below them. Lichen-covered hills and naked trees dot the area, which still has patches of thick morning fog. There are no towns in view, which is not a surprise since the Frost Barrens are only slightly more hospitable than the rightly-named Deadlands to the south of the Yagervan Plains. With the first foot of soil frozen and brittle, only the hardiest of plants grow to give nourishment to the handful of beasts that call the region home. Even when the summer sun touches the land, it is too weak to do more than a barely noticeable thaw. The biggest obstacle for the stretching beams is the churning storm that circles the area and unleashes waves of chilling wind. Many believe this immortal cluster of clouds is sentient since it seems to move to wherever is warmest and goes out of its way to erase as much heat as possible. Standing above the unique weather pattern, the travelers can see thousands of crystals within its core. As they watch, one of the jewels shatters and the blue shards rain down on the hills to become a new layer of frost.
“You didn’t have to smack me in the head,” Nimby complains, his ear still red from Trinity’s glancing blow. He flops onto the clouds and rubs his legs, which are aching from walking so long without a rest. “At least they put a sign up. Always nice to be told we’re at the end of a road. I wouldn’t be surprised if a bunch of travelers thought the storm was part of this place and jumped in. Now, the map says we have to go north and then west?”
“That sends us back
to Pynofita Forest, which we just passed over,” Vile points out before stabbing at the wooden sign. Walking over to Quail, he is about to jab the chaos elf in the foot when a tiny hand of clouds bats him away. “First, you keep me paralyzed for most of the day and now you get in my way. If I want to make this fool suffer for his idiocy then I have a right to do so. He’s obviously reading the map wrong. That means he’s failing at the one thing we needed him for.”
“You can insult my courage since I’m not a warrior, but never question my ability as a mapper,” Quail mutters, his attention more on his tools than the toy. Glancing at the parchment, he taps at a faint symbol that is either a skull or a closed flower. “A lot of enchanted maps work this way. They double-back, cross over, and include a variety of tricks to make sure a person can’t stumble onto whatever is at the end of the path. I mean, it still happens, but it gets a lot harder when you do add stages that go against common sense. Another reason is that those who are weak-willed can be made to give up when the path gets confusing and frustrating. They start complaining about how ridiculous the map is and believe that something is wrong. Eventually, they give in to their impatience and quit.”
“Let’s not fight up here,” Trinity requests as she grabs Vile by the head. She juggles him for a little bit while eyeing the edge of the clouds. “There has to be a way down. What if you need somebody on the bottom to hit a trigger? I don’t have a clear look at the ground, but it looks different from the rest of the Frost Barrens.”
Nimby gets as close as he dares, but nearly falls when the Lich clears his throat. “As much as I would like to see our friend plummet, I sense that is not the answer. The mapmakers must have assumed that anyone who got up here could get down on their own. If what Quail said is true then this is another barrier to defeat those who are unprepared and weak. Can you float us down, your highness?”
Path of the Traitors Page 7