Spitemorta found the speed of the Staff exhilarating. “Had I known this thing was this fast, we might have finished this Heart business and been back in Goll long ago,” she thought. “Demonica's too quiet. I'd better talk to her before she thinks of something else to delay us. Ha! She's probably so terrified of this wild ride that she can't think at all.” She glanced back at her. “You've certainly been quiet, Grandmother,” she said.
“Yes,” said Demonica, sounding altogether calm. I've much to think about.”
“That's all you're going to say?” said Spitemorta irritably.
“Yes...for now.”
Spitemorta stopped short. She refused to be baited into asking more, in spite of her burning curiosity.
***
“It's gettin' 'way too dark to see anything,” said Hubba Hubba. “How much further to where we can get out of this stinking brown soup and roost, Tors?”
“What's your complaint?” said Tors “You're perfectly snug and dry up there on Fuzz's shoulder.”
“Yea? Well, I'm concerned for our companions, ye know. I don't just think of myself. And they're not only soaked, they're about to drop, in case you haven't noticed.”
“You think I caused this?” said Tors.
“I think...!” squawked Hubba Hubba, growing quite loud.
“Enough!” said Lukus, catching himself with a splash as he felt through the muck beneath the water. “Bickering makes it worse.”
“Shhh!” said Fuzz. “He's right. And Demonica and Spitemorta could swoop down on us again and we'd never hear them. If they do, we're dead.”
“Sorry,” said Hubba Hubba. “I get irritable when I don't roost on time.”
“Oh, feathers are supposed to be like that,” said Fuzz. “But I think each one of us is pretty much on edge, right now.”
“Except for me,” gritted Taflu jubilantly, as he crawled out from beneath Razzmorten's robe, where he had been fast asleep. “Night's my time o' day. I'm getting right hungry, though. Wouldn't mind filling up on some nice half ass blood.”
“Well, we haven't seen or heard anything from the witches,” said Fuzz with a scratch of his head. “If you don't mind waiting until we reach our campsite, you could go hunt then. In the meantime, could you put us at ease and scout around a bit and let us know if you see any signs of them?”
“Sure thing, Fuzz. If I don't see them, do you want me to go back to where they ambushed us and see if they're still there?”
“No point in that. It wouldn't make any difference if they were. It's whether or not they're on their way here that we're worried about. That's a long way, and you've done more than enough for us. You deserve to be about your own affairs.”
“What ever you think, Fuzz, feel free to let me know. If it truly looks like the old harridans are gone for good, I'd like to return to the cave. I miss the others, even if they're no longer enchanted. Besides, I'd like to make sure Hedfan and Flit made it. They're not too bright anymore, ye know.”
Fuzz smiled. “Yea, Taflu. That sounds like a fine idea to me, too.”
“There!” called Tors, at the sight of a small jut of land in the feeble moonlight. That's our campsite!”
“Thank the Fates,” said Rose, as Lladdwr quickened his plunging steps.
Soon they were collapsing onto the dry sandy beach at the mouth of a small, babbling creek. A barred owl boomed nearby, answering the calls of others far away.
“Well, I wouldn't want to set up housekeeping here,” said Lukus, “but it certainly appears to be all Tors said it was. And with there being enough leaves overhead yet to keep out the moonlight this way, they won't find us if we don't have a fire.”
“Oh, it's warm enough we don't need one,” said Fuzz.
Everyone seemed spiritless to Lukus. Myrtlebell's horrible death haunted them. Even in the dark, he was sure he could see pain in Fuzz's eyes. “How will he ever explain her death to poor little Edward?” he thought. He knew it was on everyone's mind, even though no one spoke of it.
“Well, I'll scout around, then,” chirped Taflu. “Don't you dare light a fire.”
“Don't worry, Taflu,” said Fuzz. “The ambush will keep me not feeling safe enough for a fire until we've been in the Dragon Caves for a good long while.”
“Good,” said Taflu as he vanished into the air.
They nibbled at dried fruit and cheese, though, no one had much of an appetite. Tors took the first watch and one by one they fell asleep.
***
“I see the bear's den,” said Spitemorta just before dawn. “And look 'ee there. Nightshade and Gwenole are grazing as calmly as if we'd stayed with them this whole time.”
“As I expected. Just land far enough away from them to keep from spooking them.”
“I'm not stupid, you know.”
“Oh I know that dear, though you are customarily thoughtless.”
Spitemorta held back her retort and landed so that Demonica took the brunt of it.
Demonica however, hopped off as if she had noticed nothing at all. She pulled out the Heart and reverently unwrapped it. She laid it on the ground and stood back with a nod. “Blast it with the Staff,” she commanded.
“What?” said Spitemorta, certain she had heard wrong. “You thick o' hearing, girl? I said blast it with the Staff...like you wanted to smash it.”
“But it'll be destroyed!”
“Maybe...”
“But...”
“Blast it!” thundered Demonica.
Blast it she did. The Staff thoroughly pelted them with dirt and stones, knocking them down and blowing out a hole big enough for the two of them to bathe in together. When the debris stopped raining down through the trees all around, they cautiously peered into the hole to find the Heart resting on the bottom, glowing with blinding red brilliance.
“Ha!” shouted Demonica. “It is indestructible! It is Kalon Bras!”
“So what?” said Spitemorta, eyeing her warily.
“One must test these things to be certain, dear. It survived. It is indeed the real Heart of the Staff.” She tapped her cheek. “And especially since it did, then I suppose the rest of the stories are also true...”
“The rest of the stories?” said Spitemorta with alarm. “I think, Grandmother, once we've fished the Heart out of the hole, we need to have a discussion.”
“Oh, I couldn't agree more,” said Demonica buoyantly, as she scooted down into the crater. She carefully rewrapped the Heart and clambered out, motioning for Spitemorta to follow her inside Fuzz's den. She turned upright Fuzz's upholstered chair and made herself comfortable in it, motioning for Spitemorta to sit nearby. “According to accounts that I now feel I can take seriously, the Heart is vulnerable only to the unique magic of a kind of wizard who is half Elf and half Human. It was such a wizard who created the Stone Heart, and only such a wizard can destroy it.
“As you may know, Elves and Humans have not married one another for several ages. In fact, such marriages were outlawed after it was discovered that the first's wizard's incredible magical power was made possible by the union itself. That union, in fact, gave rise to all wizards and sorceresses in the first place.”
“Then the Heart's indestructible,” said Spitemorta. “I can rule the entire world with it! I'll be unstoppable!”
“Yes, with my help of course,” said Demonica as her eyes narrowed. “That is unless someone like Razzmorten, perhaps, knows the stories as well as I do.”
“Razzmorten again. If you think I'm going on a wild goose chase to catch your estranged husband after all this, think again. I'm going home.”
“Let's hear it for the rouanez bras!” cheered Demonica, clapping her hands before her voice suddenly frosted over. “You need a keener grasp of just how things are, dear. It is most unwise of you to start telling me what you will and will not do. I still have the
Heart in my possession after all and as we both have seen, the Heart needs no staff to be employed. However,” she said, holding up a hand to head off
Spitmorta's certain outburst, “I quite agree. Razzmorten and company are no doubt completely inconvenient at the moment, even with the incredible speeds which we now know the Staff is capable of.”
“You've made your point, Grandmother, but you're still getting at something. “What is it?”
“We must be certain that mating and marriage between the Elves and Humans remains forbidden, of course.”
“I'm afraid we're a bit too late.”
“Speak plainly.”
“Prince Lukus of Niarg wed an Elven princess, the granddaughter to King Neron, himself, a little over a year ago.”
“Why did you not tell me this before?” hissed Demonica.
“I thought you knew. You seem privy to everything. Besides, how was I to know it had any importance? It isn't as though you'd told me any of this.”
“Then we shall just have to see to it that they produce no offspring,” she said as her face darkened with fury. “In fact, it may be best to eliminate Elves altogether.” She looked at Spitemorta with the expression of a flattened eared cat. “Is it not true that the Elves are currently confined to some small area on the continent?”
“Well, small territory but not exactly 'confined,' Grandmother. “They live in the Jutwoods of their own free will. They seldom leave, but again that's because it's what they choose.”
“Who cares about their own free will, Spitemorta? It suits us that they're all collected in one spot. The smaller the territory, the more easily exterminated.”
“This is beginning to sound like fun, Grandmother,” she said with a bounce.
“I rather thought you'd get into the spirit of things, dear. But I think we'd best move on. We've plans to lay and I'm sure your handsome husband and darling little one are becoming most anxious over your protracted absence.”
Taflu waited in the choke oak tree where he had perched when he heard voices coming from inside Fuzz's den. Once Demonica and Spitemorta had sauntered out of sight on their unicorns, he flung himself into the light of day and fluttered furiously on his way to find Fuzz. He fervently hoped that Razzmorten and Mary had awakened by the time he got there.
***
Mary opened her eyes to the whistles and nasal babble of some geese feeding and dabbling in the water a few rods away in the faint light before sunrise. Beyond the points of her toes, draped with dew covered wool, a soft shelled turtle followed another one the length of a log, off into the water. Jays traded calls like rusty swings in a school yard. There were Ceidwad and Lladdwr huddled beside her. And was this Arwr? She had not seen him for a very long time. She sat up slowly, looking all about. Razzmorten lay sleeping deeply nearby. Fuzz was snoring softly next to Lukus and Tors, and Rose was staring quietly out across the swamp. Myrtlebell was nowhere to be seen. Mary rose to her knees and then tried standing up.
“You're awake,” said Rose quietly as she sprang to her feet and scurried softly across the sand to help Mary onto her wobbly legs.
Mary was already alert enough to catch Rose's flicker of disappointment crossing her face as she glanced aside at Razzmorten, who was still out cold. She helped Mary to a large rock where she sank gratefully and caught her breath.
“How long have I been out?” said Mary.
“An eternity,” said Rose with a pained hint of a smile. “But it's not even been a week.” Her blue eyes were dark with a look of haunted exhaustion.
“What has happened?”
Rose looked at the ground and drew in a deep breath that remembered sobs. “Myrtlebell is dead,” she said as she looked Mary in the eye. “And the Heart is destroyed.”
Mary gasped, but saw at once that Rose was not yet able to cope with the horrid details. Ceidwad and Lladdwr would give her an exact report. She put her arm around her and they sat silently staring into the swamp as the sun and the rest of the company arose.
Razzmorten did not awaken. After a short reunion with the rest of the companions and a meager breakfast of cheese and dried fruit, they set out for the final leg of their journey to the Dragon Caves. Mary rode on Ceidwad a discrete distance behind the others, listening to her detailed accounts of Myrtlebell's death and of everything else that had happened to them while she had been asleep.
Conversation amongst the others was scant and strained as they rode, consisting of little else but complaints at having to wade through water and muck again. Great white egrets lunged into the air from a cypress and pumped into the distance. Yellow choke oak leaves swirled and bobbed on the glassy water like swarms of wee bucking gondolas as ripples spread out from everyone's splashing steps.
“Fuzz,” said Rose, “how are you ever going to tell Edward?”
Fuzz looked away from her at once and was quiet for a good while as Lladdwr and Arwr kept up their steady tiptoeing strides through the water.
Everyone was listening.
“I don't know,” he said at last before falling silent. No one spoke again for a long time. The climbing sun turned the swamp into a steam bath.
“Think it's time for us to scout around a bit, Fuzz?” said Hubba Hubba.
“Might be a good idea,” said Fuzz with a nod, “but don't go too far.”
“Right,” said Hubba Hubba, as he and Pebbles leaped into the air. They returned in short order, landing on Tors's head..
“No news on the witches, Fuzz,” said Hubba Hubba. “The skies are clear of everything except your everyday avian life. And guess what?”
“I'm too spent to even imagine...”
“We're here!”
“Boy, don't I know.”
“No, Fuzz. We're here at the Dragon Caves. Look through the trees.”
“Look!” cried Lukus. “Up ahead. We made it!”
“Well, so we have,” said Fuzz.
By the time the weary travelers entered Spark and Lipperella's noisy alcove, every dragon within sight had been alerted to their coming.
It was no surprise then when hopeful little Edward drug a jovially protesting Spark to the entrance to meet them. Edward's bounding joy turned wide eyed as he frantically looked over the returning party. Suddenly he lunged into Spark's arms and sobbed his heart out.
Chapter 78
Inney carefully put away the birthday gifts which she had received for her seventh naming day (ninety-ninth birthday) in the small shed which she would call home for the next several years. Most of her presents would not be used for some time except for the hamper, where her downy eyas would sleep and grow into the shawk spoogh or strike falcon who would be her companion for the rest of her life.
Of course, she would at once fasten the jesses and bells to his legs in preparation for the day she would use the swivel and leash. She would have to get him used to wearing the rufter hood right away as well, or at least as soon as he would allow her to touch him without shying away, since it was one of the most important training tools an Elven austringa had.
She studied her eyas as he in turn watched every single movement of hers with keen orange eyes from the straw of his hamper by her bed. “Sizing me up, are you, Sheshey?” she said. “I hope you approve of what you see because you've got me for good.” She washed her hands in the small basin as she was told to do before handling him.
“Well, time to get acquainted.” She picked up the special feather from Tramman's shawk spoogh, Jeelys and approached, talking reassuringly to him. Slowly she touched him with it for the first time.
He trembled just enough to notice, but did not jerk away as she knew many new ones do. Thus encouraged, she stroked him generously. He was quite wary at first, but he never jumped or pulled away. With a smile of delight, she put away the feather for the time being.
A knock on the door announced that Tramman had arrived with feed. He was a master austringa who had been assigned her mentor. He and his shawk spoogh, Jeelys, had been together for ten years already.
“Come in Tramman!” she called out.
The door opened vigorously as the youthful Elf entered, smiling as he handed her a pail of fr
eshly cubed lean beef.
She gave the whistle she had decided upon as she took a piece of the meat and passed it by Sheshey's face.
“Well you'll never be called Ooree again,” said Tramman. “So now that you're Inney forever, what'll you call him?”
“He will be Sheshey, I think,” said Inney as she began feeding the eyas piece after piece of meat. “Don't you think it suits him?”
“Your mate, aye?” said Tramman with a sincere nod. “It seems right appropriate.”
Inney nodded and then froze to listen with a look of horror as screams suddenly broke out all around outside the eyas shed.
“Hide,” ordered Tramman, as he rushed to fling aside the throw rug and lift the trapdoor to the cellar made for this very purpose.
Inney did not have to be told twice. She snatched up Sheshey in his box and flew down the steps and into the cellar. She lit the oil lamp and turned to see if Tramman had come down, just as the trapdoor closed. He stayed above. She listened to him dragging her bed across the floor to better hide the way to where she was. Somehow she knew he would join the battle. She prayed the Fates would spare him and Jeelys. They were the best team of their clan and were both her friends. She sat on the cot that would be her bed tonight if the battle went long and pulled Sheshey's box close to her.
Inney felt a wave of fear and pain as she remembered a particular raid that the Marooderyn Imshee or Elf Killers, a kind of troll, had made on her clan when she was seventy-one (five for an Elf). They took many women and children including her, along with her own mother and baby brother. She had been one of the few lucky ones to be rescued by the clan's austringas and strike falcons, but not before she'd had the horror of watching her mother and brother cooked alive and then eaten. She knew she would always live with the nightmare. She wondered who would die this time.
With his sword drawn, Tramman threw open the door of the eyas shed just in time for Jeelys to knock down and rip open one of the Marooderyn Imshee right in the doorway.
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 84