Heart of the Staff - Complete Series

by Carol Marrs Phipps

  “I didn't know that,” said Spark. “Why didn't I know that?”

  “Oh, I think I know. I believe that came to light when you were in exile. Everyone else should be aware enough of it to be talking about Demonica, first thing, not about him. Here we are, all ready to flee the Dragon Caves because of her, and now she controls most of the commerce of Tywyllwch (to use Niarg's old word), including that of the Homeland.” she said, shaking her head with an apologetic look. “I'm sorry I brought up your awful exile.”

  “Hey,” said Spark softly as he reached out to take her hand. “I know you love me. You can talk about it. Besides, if I held it against anyone, it certainly wouldn't be you.” He turned aside to look at Edward, standing wide eyed, holding the sukere which Lipperella had handed him. “Ah! Easedropping are we? Look at poor old Flame, craning and drooling.”

  “That's eavesdrop, Uncaspark,” said Edward, chucking in the sukere like a football. “You should know better.” He turned tail at once and trotted out, side by side with Laora.

  Spark whistled at the doorway. “Whoa, Edward!” he hollered. “Come back here!”

  Edward and Laora appeared in the doorway with worried looks.

  “You're not in trouble,” said Spark with a chuckle.

  Edward and Laora scurried up to sit on the floor in front of Lipperella and him.

  “I figured I'd better explain it”

  “I didn't mean to ease...eavesdrop, Uncaspark,” said Edward.

  “I know that,” said Spark, before clearing his throat and taking on a rhetorical tone. “There was indeed a time when the dragon clan cast me out. They were under the control of the evil wizard Razzorbauch, and they thought I was a disgrace because I couldn't blow fire out my mouth and nose like the rest of them, so they forced me to go live alone in the Peppermint Forest...” He paused to see Edward and Laora staring wide eyed at Lipperella.

  “Oh, my. Lipperella wasn't one of them. She tried everything to stop them, but no one would listen to her.”

  Their smiles returned at once as they each wiggled where they sat to get comfortable. They loved tales.

  “She was overruled by the council, which was controlled by the terrible dragon Razorback...”

  “Razorback? What part of the Dragon Caves does he live in now, Uncaspark?”

  “He doesn't live anywhere, Edward. He was killed by King Hebraun of Niarg.”

  “Rose and Lukus's father?” he said in awe.

  “He most certainly did, but Razorback was evil. And not only that, he wasn't even a real dragon.”

  “He wasn't? What was he?”

  “He was actually the right evil wizard Razzorbauch in disguise.”

  “So after the bad dragon was killed by the King Hebraun, your brothers went to the Peppermint Forest and brought you back home.”

  “Well...” said Spark, with a look at Lipperella. “No, it was Lipperella who came for me. It's kind of a long story, Edward.”

  “I understand,” he said with a nod, as he sprang to his feet.

  “I'll explain it all...”

  “I know. Now, may Laora and I go out to the kite field? We promised to help Avel, Cook and Fornigell with their flying.”

  “Certainly.” said Spark, releasing their mad dash for the door.

  “I really like Edward,” said Spark as soon as they were gone.

  “He's really spurring on the mob with all of his egging on Laora and giving her endless encouragements.” said Lipperella with a nod. “One would swear that he has proper aerial instincts, but there's not a feather on him. Sometimes I get this strange feeling about him, as though he were our very own.”

  “Me too, but I try to ignore it. It's going to be hard enough when Rose and Fuzz come to get him.”

  “And by the way, I think that once he has them all flying as well as Laora, we should start weaning them.”

  “No argument from me,” said Spark. “So what do we do at feeding time?”

  “Set the table and tell stories afterward,” said Lipperella. She cocked her head, pausing thoughtfully. “You want to go with them, don't you?” she said, suddenly looking him squarely in the eyes.

  “Into the air?”

  “Not the dragonets. I'm talking about Kast, Tors and Gweltaz.”

  “I want to be with you, love.”

  “I know you do Spark, but you still want to go with Tors and them to see if the Black Desert will suit your family. Now don't deny it.”

  “Am I that transparent?”

  “By all means,” said Lipperella with a smile and a wince, as she removed a tick from his scalp with a yank and bit down on it with a snap before swallowing it. “To me, I'm afraid you are.”

  “Well,” he said as he rubbed his scalp, “I keep worrying that they're going to pick out a place that won't suit our youngsters in the least. Maybe if I'm along, I can prevent that. Maybe it's gone to my head, but aren't we the very ones who are raising the next generation? Don't we get a say?”

  “Well, what will you do if it's no good and the others all think it's perfectly acceptable?”

  “I'll just have to change their little minds.”

  “Now why is that no surprise?” she said with a grin.

  ***

  King Talorg sat stretching the tattoo on his face as he massaged his temple. “That's all I know,” he said, dropping his hand to pick at the arm of his throne with his thumb nail. “I'm afraid it's my doing. Had it not been for my delay in executing the witches, Myrtlebell would be alive today.”

  Tramae and Donnel shared a look. “You're mistaken, Fa,” said Tramae, dropping her gaze to look at her hands. “It's my fault. It was my meddling that killed her.”

  “What in the name of Madadh-Allaidh Neartmhor do you think you're saying, girl...?” said Talorg, sitting bolt upright.

  “No it wasn't!” said Donnel hotly, stepping forward. “I was the one. I did it...”

  “What is the matter with the two of you?” said Talorg, springing to his feet to begin pacing. “Didn't you hear me say that reliable witnesses saw her murdered by Spitemorta?”

  “We heard everything, Fa,” said Tramae.

  “Then what are the two of you talking about?” said Talorg, sitting right back down on his great chair.

  “Don't you remember me coming in here and telling you that Donnel and I thought you shouldn't marry Myrtlebell?”

  “In spite of everything, it did make an impression. You thought it would force her to fail at living your mother's life and make me unhappy in the process. It was not your decision to make, but I thought it was a pretty grown up way for you to look at things. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “A lot Fa,” she said, bravely facing his gaze. “She had every intention of going through with your marriage until I insisted that she flee.”

  Talorg sat thunderstricken, squinting at her as though he were staring into the evening sun. A barn owl swooped forth from her pair of fuzzy young between the crucks under the ridge pole and settled for a moment on a timber overhead before vanishing noiselessly out the window.

  Donnel stepped in front of Tramae. “It wasn't her idea, Fa,” he said, “'twas mine. I saw the White Witch skulking about after she got loose from the dungeon. She was trying to find a way to get to Myrtlebell and run away with her. I told Tramae and we decided to help her with Myrtlebell's escape.”

  “All in my best interest, aye?”

  “Yes. We thought so, Fa,” said Tramae, taking a turn to step in front of Donnel.

  “We still do. And we certainly didn't want anything bad happening to Myrtlebell, but we were the ones who killed her, not you.”

  “In spite of what I might make of your restraint, I'm right proud of the sense of honor of the two of you.” He paused, keenly studying each of them. “Myrtlebell's spirit is with Lira's, now. And how could Lira fail to see that my not executing the witches killed her daughter? Eochaid watches. Madadh-Allaidh Neartmhor watches. We Beaks owe a blood debt to Bratin Brute and to your
mother's kin, particularly to your nephew Edward. Henceforth we shall never raise arms against Bratin Brute. And should they seek our aid, the Beak Nation is honor bound to answer. I shall send out an official decree to that effect this very day.”

  ***

  “The Captain says if the wind keeps up, we should arrive on the Eastern Continent sometime after noon tomorrow, Grandmother,” said Spitemorta, turning her face into the wind as she joined Demonica at the railing. “In fact, he said he'd wager it, so I guess we just might. He keeps calling it Gwael instead of Eastern Continent.”

  “That's Old Niarg Standard, dear, Gwaremm it was to us in Pennvro. It meant wasteland in Headlandish. I think the Niarg word just meant rot,” said Demonica from the midst of a flying whirl of jet black hair. She turned her chin back into the wind and gave a decisive nod. “Excellent, then. So stand on the other side of me and tell me again how you are going to deal with the Marooderyn Imshee when we arrive, dear.”

  “I was already right well aware of the meaning of Gwael,” said Spitemorta as she shoved away from the railing to stand upwind of her.

  “Good. Now how indeed are you going to deal with the Marooderyn Imshee when we get there?”

  “We keep going over this. I could do it in my sleep.”

  “Well good. So do it on the forecastle.”

  Spitemorta gathered her hair behind her head and held it with one hand in order to fling her a scorched look before contemptuously launching into their lengthy strategy, which fairly bristled with alternative maneuvers.

  “Very well dear, but losing patience could get you killed. One slip could start your death. Staying well rehearsed is your survival strategy, since the Elf Killers are not affected by magic.”

  “So what? You said yourself that they only have a taste for Elven flesh.”

  “Do you want to eat everything you kill? They just might think that we are trying to use them or to trick them in some way, and we most certainly are.”

  “How would they have the wits to figure us out?”

  “He who doesn't respect his enemy dies by his sword, dear. Your respect needs to keep up with your contempt, or you don't have control. Ask the Elves what they think of the trolls.”

  “You make me wonder if this is a good idea at all, Demonica.”

  “It's a perfectly good idea if you have what it takes do your part as we've planned. Without the Elf Killer's aid, we are very likely to fail, in spite of having the Staff and the Heart.”

  “I've come all this way with you and I still can't believe you're serious,” said Spitemorta with a scoff, as she turned her face into the wind to study the other six ships of their flotilla, listing in the strong wind.

  “I'm absolutely serious,” hissed Demonica. “Don't forget that the First Wizard created Staff and Heart and yet he failed to rule the world.”

  “He died from the plague, Grandmother.”

  “Certainly. And so could you.”

  “Are you saying he died from a curse?”

  “Why not?” said Demonica slowly. “No one knows for sure. Struggles for power take on certain extremes, Rouanez Bras. Do you want to take that chance?”

  “No. Shouldn't we be protecting ourselves from such a thing?”

  “What do you think this voyage is about, then? The Elves must be eliminated. They must not be allowed to sire another half Elf like the First Wizard. They know about the Heart. They know enough to do it.”

  “What if they've done it already?” said Spitemorta, suddenly seeing how it all was.

  “Then if we do our part, the Marooderyn Imshee will find him and eat him.”

  ***

  “You're sure it isn't too soon for you and the twins to travel?” said Lukus, pausing from helping Soraya pack to look her over as he had a seat.

  “You're being overly protective,” she said, reaching out to take his hand, “but I love you for it. We're Elves. No offence, but we're tougher than Humans.” She sat on the silken quilts of the bed with a light bounce.

  “They're half-Human...” he said, nodding at the pair of sleeping bundles nestled at the bolster.

  “A wizard and a sorceress born,” she said with a serene smile. “The likes of which the world hasn't seen in an age, Lukus. Fear not, all will be well. Besides, we'll have all three of my brothers and Great Grandfather. We'll be slán sábháilte as if we stayed right here.”

  “Hey!” squawked Hubba Hubba from his branch just outside their window. “What kind o' credit are we getting here? See how far you ones could get without our protection from the air. And look at how we take care of you ones. You won't get out o' here without us overhead.”

  “Right you are, Hubba Hubba,” said Soraya. “Forgive me.”

  “See?” she said, turning to Lukus. “Perfectly safe.”

  “Right,” said Hubba Hubba.

  “What can I say?” said Lukus. “I'm out numbered. There's nothing for it but to go see if everyone else is ready to go.”

  “No need,” said Hubba Hubba, “We're already a-lookin' out for ye! I can see from here that they're all standing around, waiting. So just make your grand exit.”

  “Very well,” said Lukus, picking up Ariel as Soraya picked up Daniel. In short order they found King Neron sitting in the coach, studying the backs of his hands.

  “Mind if I hold one of my Great-Great Grandchildren?” he said, suddenly looking up.

  “Here you are,” said Soraya, handing over little Daniel as soon as she was settled beside him.

  Neron looked at the wee lad and smiled. “Looks like we're off, then,” he said, looking up at the shaking of the coach from the loading of Soraya and Lukus's baggage. I'll be riding my unicorn, so I'd best climb down.”

  Soraya nodded and took Daniel back into her arms.

  “Sire,” said Lukus, “I should ride with you.”

  “Why thank you, but I've Danneth, Strom and Jarund to look after me. You just enjoy your family.”

  “Well thank you then, if you're certain.”

  “Quite,” said Neron with a smile and a nod of his knitted brow at the open door of the coach.

  “We'll talk to you when we stop,” called out Lukus before closing the door.

  Neron nodded and charged away in a clatter of hooves.

  “I'm looking forward to seeing Rose and Fuzz get married,” said Lukus, getting settled with Aerial in his lap.

  “Me too,” said Soraya. “You never doubted that she would though, did you?”

  “Nay.”

  “I'm wondering if you've a bit of foresight, yourself.”

  “Have you been checking to see if I've developed Elven ears?”

  “Why yes, not to put too fine a point on it on it,” she said as she beamed at her son. “But now I see what you'd look like if you had.”

  Chapter 91

  “Today's my birthday,” said Edward as he dropped onto his knees under a leaning oak at the edge of the kite field and began drawing with his finger in the white dirt. “Uncafuzz was carving me a wooden sword. It was really nice. It looked kind o' like this. But we left it when the bad womans who killed Momma came.” A wistful look took hold of him.

  “What does 'birthday' mean, Edward?” said Laora carefully, as she studied the drawn look of grief on his face.

  “Oh,” he said, pulling in a single sniffle with a shudder as he drug his sleeve under his nose. “I reckon you wouldn't know since you were hatched and not borned.”

  “What's the difference? Aren't they the same?”

  “Well, I'm still only six, you know, so I mightn't esplane it just right,” he said, as he quickly turned away to hide his brimming eyes. “Maybe we should go ask your momma. The one thing I can tell you for sure is that you came out of an egg when you were brand new and I didn't.”

  “You didn't just appear out of the air, did you?”

  “I told you I was borned. I came out of my momma's tummy and you hatched out of an egg.”

  “You did not.”

  “I sure did
!”

  “Then, how'd you get in there in the first place and how'd you get out? She didn't crack into pieces to let you out. How'd she get put back together?”

  “I bet your momma knows,” said Edward, on his feet at once. “She's really, really smart.”

  “Let's go ast her, then. She just came out. She's right yonder.”

  As they started running across the kite field, Laora lunged into the air and was aloft at once, quickly outdistancing Edward. She made a broad circle, just above the grass, winging up behind him as he ran furiously, straight for Lipperella.

  “No Flame, I already told you,” said Lipperella, ignoring Laora as she swooped in to skid to a stumbling halt alongside Edward in a cloud of white dust. “We'll not have you flying outside the kite field, and that's the last I'll hear of it! Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Momma,” said Flame, dragging his feet for a few steps before taking a scampering lunge into the air, followed by Scorch and Blaise.

  “Honestly!” said Lipperella with a shake of her head. “I thought it was going to get easier once they'd fledged, but they just keep giving me new problems.”

  “Momma?” said Laora, glancing aside at Edward.

  “Yes?” said Lipperella. “If you're about to ask to fly outside the training field, then you can forget it, 'cause I'm not making exceptions.”

  “Oh no, Momma,” said Laora. “Nothin' like that.”

  “What then?”

  “Well, you see today is Edward's birthday and...”

  “Oh my,” said Lipperella. “Happy birthday, Edward. Why didn't you tell us before and we could have planned a little party for you? Humans do that just like we have pipdays, don't they?”

  “I didn't think you'd know that,” said Edward with a fleeting blush, “and I wouldn't esspect you to go to any trouble for me anyway.”

  “Oh Edward, you've never been any trouble for Spark and me,” she said, giving him a hug. “In fact, you've never been anything but a huge help. Of course I'd 'ave given you a party if I'd known. In fact, I will. You must be...six years old today, right?”