by Sarah Noffke
“What’d’ya want?” the tree barked.
Monet examined the tree, noticing that it had strange eyes, like it had multiple irises and was focusing in several places at once—on Ever, Monet, and something else.
“We need your help,” Ever said.
“Well, I don’t have any reason to help a Light Elf who snuck up on me when I thought the forest was still.”
“The Princess of Virgo needs your help, then,” Ever said, looking resigned.
“Princess Azure? Why would she call on the wood elves?”
“We’re looking for a lost Orc. If we can find him, his tribe will secure the border of Virgo against the harpies threatening to harm the people of the kingdom.”
“But harpies can’t go after them unless they’ve been ordered by another species… Oh,” the wood elf said, filling in the gaps on his own. “The silent war, then.”
“Yes. The witches and wizards must defend themselves from the people of Terran.”
The strange wood creature thought about this, then its branches rustled, as if a wind had assaulted them. “I’m not sure how much help I can be,” the wood elf said.
“Have you seen a lone Orc recently?” Ever asked, leaning his hand on a nearby tree. He thought better of it, and returned to a standing position.
“I might have seen a solitary Orc come through here this morning. Or maybe it was yesterday. Or last year—days rush together. But I think it was today that I saw an Orc.”
“Which way did he head?”
“That way,” the wood elf said, pointing a branch ahead. “And I have no doubt that you’ll find him.”
“Why is that?” Ever asked, lowering his chin and looking skeptical now.
“Because the dumb Orc was eating an ambien berry,” the wood elf said with a laugh. It froze then, its eyes and mouth disappearing into its trunk as it became a tree again.
“Oh, no!” Ever said, turning in the direction where the wood elf had said the Orc could be found.
“Huh? What’s an ambien berry?” Monet asked.
“It’s a fruit that makes the eater sleep.”
“Oh, well, sounds like something I should stock up on.”
“No.” Ever looked suddenly grave. “It causes them to sleep forever.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Twenty minutes passed, during which Azure took the opportunity to let her mind drift. She’d been staring at the back of the Orc in front of her as they marched, lost in thought for once rather than being consumed by worries, when she ran straight into the giant. He halted suddenly, making her ram straight into him. Wiping his sweat from her face, she edged back.
“What’s going on?” Azure asked, peering around the Orc to find that the whole tribe had halted.
“Princess, we sense danger ahead,” the chief replied from his place at the front of the group. His back was still to her, his focus on something in the forest.
Pushing her way to the front, she took a position at the chief’s side. “What is it?” she asked, staring into the dark trees.
“You make it difficult to protect you, charging forward when I tell you there is danger. You should stay back,” the chief growled.
“I’m not a damsel in distress, and I will not hide while there is danger. If I’m informed, I can take action.”
The chief kept his beady eyes on the trees but sneered, which expression Azure thought was meant for her. “I’m going to take a small group with me to scout and dispel the danger. I’ll leave behind protection, but lay low,” he said, and then waved to three Orcs to follow him. They grunted in reply and moved off.
“Damn it,” Azure said under her breath. “How can we be so close to Virgo and yet so far away? Another delay!”
“You worry about time and your mother?” Gillian said, taking a seat on the root of a giant oak tree.
Azure bit her lip and nodded. The pixie had already busied herself gathering flowers that grew in several patches among the trees. A few times she ventured too far, which earned her disapproving grunts from the Orcs who were guarding the perimeter.
Taking a seat next to Gillian, Azure withdrew the package of beef jerky. It didn’t look especially good, but when she opened it the smell of salt and meat was somewhat enticing.
“You want some?” she asked, offering it to the gnome.
He shook his head, offense written on his face. “That isn’t food,” he said, withdrawing his silver flask from his pocket.
“I agree, but it’s kind of all I have.” She took a bite of the beef jerky, working hard to sever it from the rest. “What’s she doing?” Azure indicated the pixie who, had a bunch of flowers in her hands and was hurrying back to them.
Gillian gave Azure a contemptuous look.
“Oh, I get it. Again you know, but you’re not telling me. You gnomes love your secrets, don’t you?”
“Princess Azure, it isn’t my job to keep you informed.”
“Well, if I’m about to do something that will get me killed, will you at least give me a heads-up?”
Gillian thought about it before shaking his head. He took a long drink from the flask and offered it to Azure.
“I’m going to decline, since there’s mysterious danger ahead and I may need my wits about me.”
The pixie laid the pink, blue, and yellow flowers at Azure’s feet, and went to work lacing them together with a vine she’d also gathered in the forest.
“Is she going to get us in trouble with rogue dryads for hurting the forest?” Azure asked Gillian in an undertone as he drained the last bit from the flask.
He didn’t answer, but the pixie launched into a series of nonsensical mutterings, her lips moving fast.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Azure stuck another chunk of beef jerky in her mouth. “What’s your name, pixie? I mean, we can’t communicate, but it would be helpful if I could call you something.”
The pixie’s face broke into a large smile and she buzzed loudly.
“Okay, ‘Buzz Buzz’ it is,” Azure said, wishing now that she’d accepted the flask from Gillian. Hanging out with a pixie who was overly pleasant and couldn’t be understood and a gnome who was overly grumpy and withheld information encouraged the need for drunkenness.
Azure watched as Buzz Buzz tied the flowers together, taking great care with her work. She turned to Gillian, noticing that his eyes were glazed. “The flower on your bowler, that’s your warning system, right? What all does it do?”
He pursed his fat lips at her, his cheeks rosy from the liquor.
“I forgot, I’m on a need-to-know basis. I was just wondering if the alcohol would make you a bit more talkative.”
He tore his eyes away from Azure to study what Buzz Buzz had made. It was a beautifully elegant wreath of flowers. She used her wings to get to a standing position and flew over to Azure, holding it out to her.
“Thank you,” Azure said, reaching out for the flower wreath, but Buzz Buzz yanked her hands away.
She pointed to herself, muttering as she did.
“Okay, you want to put it on me, is that right?” Azure asked, thinking she almost understood the pixie in a way.
Buzz Buzz nodded, fluttering a few more inches into the air.
“Go on,” Azure allowed, tilting her head to make it easier for her.
Placing the wreath of flowers on the crown of Azure’s head, Buzz Buzz chirped several times. It reminded her of a spell of sorts, but she didn’t feel any different when the pixie stood back.
Lifting her head, Azure looked at Gillian. “Seriously, you’re not going to tell me what this is about, although I know you know?”
His eyes darted to someone approaching. “I believe the chief has returned,” Gillian said, not answering her question.
Azure pushed into a standing position, but didn’t charge forward as she wanted to. She waited until the chief made his way to her, his brow covered with sweat.
“What dangers did you find?” she asked.
“None, althoug
h we thoroughly checked the forest. I sensed something or someone watching us, but I don’t get that impression any longer.”
“Then we shall continue. I’m anxious to get to Virgo,” Azure said, hoisting her pack onto her back once more.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“A fruit that makes you sleep forever. Damn, you really can find everything in the Dark Forest. It’s like the Walmart of Oriceran,” Monet said, pressing his back to a nearby tree for a break.
“Yeah. If you know where to look, you can find just about anything in here,” Ever said, scratching his brow.
“So how do we wake up the sleeping giant, who I’m guessing is just up ahead?”
“That’s the thing—we don’t. I’m not aware of any antidote for ambien berries. If Gillian was here, he might know,” Ever said, starting to pace.
“He wouldn’t tell us anyway, so it’s better that the little footstool is annoying Azure and not us,” Monet said, rummaging in his robes for his wand.
“I guess I could pop into the Light Elf Library and see what I can dig up.”
“No, no, no. Not necessary. Once again, I will step in and save the fucking day.” Monet sighed dramatically. “It gets so very boring, always having to be the hero.”
“What do you plan to do?” Ever asked, sounding incredibly cautious when he should have been grateful.
Monet whipped around and faced him. “I, Monet Bailey Torrance the Second, am going to create an antidote for ambien berries.”
Ever lowered his chin and regarded him from hooded eyes. “For real. What’s your plan?”
“I’m sorry you’re a horrible listener, but I’ve already told you. I’m going to create the antidote by concocting a potion.”
“You can do that?” Ever asked, doubt oozing from his voice.
“I dunno, I haven’t tried yet. But not trying is the mark of a failure, and we all know I’m not that kinda guy,” Monet said, and conjured his cauldron as he’d done when he created the scrying potion for Azure.
“Okay, it’s worth a shot. What do you need?”
“Mostly for you to stay out of my way,” Monet said proudly. “However, if you can round me up a few of those ambien berries, that would be good. Usually one needs a bit of what they’re combatting to create a potion.”
Ever searched the trees around them with his eyes. “I’m sure the berry patch isn’t far from here.”
“Okay, well, be off then, my boy. Orcs don’t save themselves,” Monet said, filling the cauldron with a liquid that flowed from the end of his wand.
***
Monet hadn’t found everything he needed for the potion, but he thought he could make these ingredients work. Waking potions were tricky to concoct because their side effects could be deadly if they weren’t properly prepared. However, if he screwed up, only a sleeping Orc would die. No biggie. Well, there was the whole disappointing-Azure thing, and also not having the protection of the Orcs in the future.
“I can do this,” Monet repeated to himself as he lit the fire under the cauldron. This potion needed to get very hot in order to attain the right consistency.
He tore bits of milk thistle into pieces and sprinkled them into the cauldron. They popped on the surface of the liquid before sinking down. Dumping a pile of dandelion root and zander into the pot, Monet stirred with his wand, whispering an incantation as he did. Charmsgood, before he was murdered, had taught Monet that almost more important than the ingredients in a potion was the intent the maker held in his mind while creating it. That intention directed the instinct of the wizard, helping him make impromptu decisions.
“Here, I’ve got your berries,” Ever said at Monet’s back. He turned to find the Light Elf holding a handful of bright blue berries.
“They’re blue!” Monet said, taking them from him. “Why would that dumb Orc eat blue berries? Everyone knows you shouldn’t eat anything blue.”
“You eat Cheetos, which are an unnatural shade of orange,” Ever shot back.
“No one asked for your input, Pointy Ears,” Monet said, sweat starting to run down his face from the heat of the flames.
“I found Drago, by the way,” Ever said, taking a seat by a nearby tree.
“Did you kick the dumbass? That’s what I would have done.”
“I did not. Kicking sleeping creatures is frowned upon, as you should know.”
“Who makes these ridiculous rules? The precise time to kick someone is when they’re defenseless,” Monet said, pulling the bag of trail mix from his pocket and digging around in the bag until he’d found a few of the chocolate morsels. They weren’t exactly what he needed, but might be an adequate replacement. Tossing the chocolate into the cauldron, Monet stirred the liquid six times clockwise and five times counterclockwise.
Not entirely happy with the color or consistency of the potion, Monet backed up and swung around to face Ever.
“What now?” the Light Elf asked, his face curious.
“Now we wait.”
“Wait? For how long?” Ever asked.
“Until it’s ready.” Monet shrugged.
“How long will that take?”
Monet withdrew a deck of cards from his pocket, an easy grin on his face. “I have absolutely no idea, but to pass the time, let’s play a friendly game of Elements. You’re familiar with the wizarding game, am I correct?” Monet arched a light-green eyebrow at his friend.
“No, not at all,” Ever replied.
“Then might I suggest we start by wagering a little something on these first few hands to help you learn,” Monet said with a wicked grin.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Sari stirred the potion in the scrying bowl, shaking her head back and forth as she did.
“Mother, why isn’t it working? Why can’t you scry Azure?” Emeri asked, tugging on a piece of her emerald-green hair and pulling it from its braid.
“Honestly, I don’t know. The potion was created correctly.” Sari tapped the side of the scrying bowl with her wand.
“But if you can’t scry her, that means…”
“Yes, it very well could mean that she’s dead,” the queen mother said matter-of-factly. She tilted forward, leaning so far over the scrying bowl that she looked like she was going to fall into it.
Emeri drew in a long breath, letting it out even more slowly. She breathed past the tears welling up in her throat. Azure couldn’t really be dead. The last thing they’d seen in the scrying bowl was the tribe of Orcs, but they wouldn’t have killed the Princess of Virgo. Emeri wanted to believe that, but knew it was entirely possible that those savage beasts had destroyed her daughter. All species looked out for themselves at the end of the day, and if Azure posed a threat to them they wouldn’t hesitate to take her out.
Sari turned, her eyes on the ancient wooden floors. She pulled the clip that held her soul stone from her hair and clasped it in her hands.
“What is it, Mother?” the queen asked, noting the confused expression in Sari’s eyes.
“I have a deep connection with my granddaughter, and I don’t believe anything fatal has happened to her.”
If Emeri had still possessed magic or her soul stone she might have been able to tap into the connecting force her mother was using. However, she barely had the strength to stand at this point.
“Eclipse?” Sari called for her familiar, a bright orange cat with yellow eyes. The animal lifted its head from its paws; it had been resting. “I want you to pop down and ask Finnegan for a scrying potion, just in case the issue is that mine has gone bad.”
The feline stretched into a standing position and hopped off the sofa before trotting away.
“You think the potion could be the problem?” Emeri asked, hope in her voice.
“I think it’s worth double-checking.” Sari turned to her daughter. “But honestly, so many things could be the problem. It could be the potion, or an enchantment made to protect Azure from being scried, or she could be gone from Oriceran either by death or by magic. If she
was on Earth, for instance, we wouldn’t be able to see her.”
“You said she mentioned going to Earth when you two spoke last, right?”
“Yes, but I don’t know why that dimwit would pop off to Earth when she knows you need your soul stone and was already heading back here.”
“Maybe to avoid the Orcs?” Emeri said.
“It’s possible,” Sari mused.
“An enchantment placed on Azure would prevent us from being able to scry her,” Emeri said, rushing over to a large grimoire that sat on a stand by the fire. She flipped through the pages, her eyes scanning each as she did.
With a bit more force than she intended, she stabbed the middle of a page. “Here! It says that there are three situations in which scrying may be blocked. One is a witches or wizard’s spell, another is an incantation used by centaurs, and the last is a wreath made by pixies.”
Sari turned, raising an eyebrow at her daughter. “Well, let’s hope that our dear Azure has either pissed off a centaur or befriended a pixie, and isn’t being roasted over an Orc’s fire.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Monet slapped the Eight of Wands down on the discard deck. “Wipe that grin off your face,” he said, pulling a card. Ten of Potions. At this rate he was going to lose yet another hand to the dumb Light Elf.
“I’m sure it’s just beginner’s luck,” Ever said, discarding. His eyes were careful as he withdrew the card face-down from the deck.
“Or you’re using some elf magic to rig the game in your favor.”
“Hey! I didn’t make you pay up when you lost the last two hands.”
“That’s because you’re playing for ego, which is truly sad,” Monet said, pulling a card from the deck. His eyes widened with dread and he ducked backward just as a well-aimed bit of fire shot from overhead. The fireball spiraled until it found its target—the cards in his hand. He dropped them to the ground, springing to a standing position as he did. Stomping, he extinguished the fire but not before it leapt to the hem of his robes.