“One gets lightness by being light, silly,” replied Sik, then laughed until he was clutching his stomach.
“Oh, I am going to have to thump him,” growled Yarg.
Folgoo couldn’t help laughing aloud as well. He stepped forward.
“Let me try,” he said diplomatically. Drawing a deep breath, he faced Sik. “Brother, tell me, how does one be light?”
“That’s easy, by dancing and singing, of course.”
“Of course,” laughed Folgoo. “Yarg, you have to dance and sing with the nymphs so that Sik can make the mystical melody that you need.”
Yarg looked at him in horror. “I can’t dance. Or sing.”
“You have to if you want me to create a melody for you,” responded Sik. “I can only create what you give me. If you want to save your fairy, then you have to give me something to work with.” He walked away to retrieve his pipes.
“He’s lying,” said Yarg, smashing his hands together to release some of the rage that had been building inside him. “He just wants to make a fool of me.”
“Remember, I told you that satyrs never lie,” whispered Folgoo. “If you want him to create this melody for you, then you have to sing and dance. Even more important, you have to do it with joy in your heart so that it can be conveyed in the music.”
“I don’t feel joy, I feel sick,” Yarg grumbled.
“Just try,” Folgoo urged.
Groaning loudly, Yarg walked to the centre of the clearing and stood there. Closing his eyes, he drew a deep breath and started to sway his big hips from side to side. Folgoo watched, squashing the urge to laugh as Yarg wobbled his ungainly body around.
“Go play, my darlings,” laughed Sik, urging his nymphs to join Yarg in the clearing. The nymphs ran laughing and giggling to join him. They took his hands in theirs.
Yarg’s eyes popped open. “What are they doing?” he asked.
“They are the conduits that allow me to capture your melody, and if you want it to be something really special, you’re actually going to have to do something else besides wriggling like you have blobworm goo in your pants,” said Sik.
“I really don’t like you!” snapped Yarg.
“Be light!” Sik snapped back.
“Sing!” “Dance!” said the nymphs to Yarg as they let go of his hands and joined their own to form a circle around him.
Yarg felt ridiculous, but … “I can do this,” he whispered to himself. He watched the nymphs as they danced around him, then began following their lead.
Tap, tap, tap went his right foot. Tap, tap, tap went the left. Moving forward he lifted his right foot and he hopped: one hop—both feet down, two hops—both feet down, and then three before landing down on the ground again. Hips to the front, hips to the back, hips in a circle, round and round. Jiggle to the left, jiggle to the right, jiggle all around. Yarg twirled and stepped, then the music began fading as his knees began to wobble.
Breathing heavily he looked towards Sik and Folgoo. Folgoo was laughing so hard that he could hardly stand.
“What is so funny, Folgoo?” he bellowed.
“I’m s – s – sorry, I’ve never seen a troll dance. Wouldn’t have missed it for the world!” he managed to get out amid bursts of laughter, wiping tears away from his face.
Yarg growled just as he heard Sik say, “That was a good practice round. Are you ready for me to begin?”
“What do you mean? Didn’t you save that?”
“Of course not. You didn’t sing.”
“Of course he didn’t. I didn’t sing.” Yarg mimicked.
Stepping back into the nymph’s circle, he called in a deceptively sweet voice, “Let’s start then, shall we?”
He started his strange version of the nymph’s dance again, but this time he sang, making up the words as they came to him.
I don’t know what tomorrow brings,
But I hope it comes on fairy wings.
Let Kaylin’s light be seen by all,
Let her find her way through the icy wall.
Let Nemesis fix this grave mistake,
And allow this fairy to be awake.
Come, my fairy … come to me,
Come, my fairy … let it be.
Yarg felt as if the music was compelling him to do better. It welled up from deep inside him, wanting to escape. His feet went faster, his steps became surer, his arms moved almost gracefully above his head. His voice grew deeper with meaning and the notes from the pipes also deepened, became more emotional. As the lines to his song ended, his feet stopped and the music flowed to an end, Yarg realised that he felt great. The music truly had made him feel lighter.
“Well done, troll, that was rather nice, if I do say so myself. You could have thought your words through a bit more, but good nonetheless,” said Sik as he stood up.
Yarg pulled out of the nymph’s circle and headed towards Sik, who pulled something out of the air and handed it to Yarg. Yarg reached out and took the piece of bark engraved with glowing magical symbols, the words and music that Yarg had sung.
“I did this?” Yarg whispered in disbelief.
Folgoo walked up to them. “Thanks, satyr,” he said, noticing how absorbed Yarg was with the small piece of bark he held.
Coming to himself again, Yarg raised his head and looked at Sik. “Thanks, Sik,” he said almost reverently.
“One day I will collect a favour from you. Do we have an agreement?” he asked.
He put the pipes to his lips again. He played a few light notes and watched as his nymphs disappeared into the trees again.
“If I can, then I shall. You have but to call me,” Yarg said.
Sik reached out his hand and shook Yarg’s, then walked off, leaving Yarg and Folgoo staring at him as he disappeared into the trees.
“Very strange,” he said to Folgoo.
They headed in the opposite direction.
Folgoo smiled. “Never thought it’d be so much fun,” he said softly.
Yarg nodded his agreement.
“So, where to now?” asked Folgoo as they reached the small waterfall again.
“The last token is Friendship’s Pledge. Do you know what that is?” he asked as he bent to put his fingers into the pond one last time.
“No,” said Folgoo distractedly. He stood, head tilted to the side as if listening for something. Yarg couldn’t hear anything, but he knew that centaurs were very sensitive to the vibrations in the atmosphere. If something was there, Folgoo would be able to hear it.
“What is it?” he asked.
“My people are calling me. Something is happening and they are urging me home,” he said, looking apologetically into Yarg’s eyes.
“But we haven’t finished our quest,” Yarg said.
“I have no choice, Yarg. I must go home.”
“I don’t know how I’ll finish it without you, Folgoo.”
“You have great courage, Yarg, I know you will save Kaylin.”
Yarg realised that he would not change Folgoo’s mind. “I’m going to miss you, centaur,” he said.
“I will miss you too, troll. But we are friends now, and that will never change.”
“So what happens to me, Folgoo?”
“I’ll take you back to your realm before I go home. Maybe you’ll find a clue there to help you find Friendship’s Pledge.”
Yarg nodded his acceptance of this plan and touched Folgoo’s back. They left the woodlands behind and landed near the western side of the castle.
10
Friendship
“Can you wait for a moment?” Yarg asked, setting off towards the castle. “There’s something that I want you to have.” As Yarg neared the castle, he saw his troops lounging about in the courtyard. They didn’t notice hi
m until he demanded in a loud voice, “Who declared this a holiday?”
At once, the trolls lumbered to their feet, excitement on their faces. “He’s home!” a few of the trolls shouted, while others rushed forward to greet him.
Yarg was surprised when Taliyard rushed up to him and pulled him into a big hug. “My king, you’re home,” he said gruffly.
Yarg felt rather embarrassed by Taliyard’s display of affection. “I’ve only been gone a short while,” he muttered beneath his breath.
Taliyard grinned at him, saying, “It’s not the same without you, my king.” He turned to wipe his nose on his arm.
Putting his arm around Taliyard’s shoulder as he walked forward, Yarg said in a soft voice, “Taliyard, I’m going to insist on weekly baths from now on,” and nearly laughed at the horror on Taliyard’s face.
He stepped into his castle and looked around appreciatively. Oh, it’s good to be home, he thought.
Followed by Folgoo, Yarg walked down the great hall until he came to the last wall at the end of the long passage. He pressed his huge hand on the panel, chanting words beneath his breath. The door appeared. Ushered by Yarg, Folgoo stepped into the hidden room.
Folgoo looked around, amazed. The room was an Aladdin’s cave, the crude stone shelves and tables covered by an assortment of objects. Some he recognised—engraved elfin flutes, silver urchin cups, miniature pixie drums—others were unfamiliar to him.
“I can’t believe that you have so many priceless treasures here!” he whispered more to himself than to Yarg, who was grinning at him.
“I guess for some reason I’ve been compelled to gather all these things. I have no idea why.”
Folgoo’s gaze settled on an ancient book covered in webs and dust.
“You have the book of forgotten things, the Book of Sisemen?” he asked in awe, coming to stand in front of the book.
“Yes, but don’t touch it, Folgoo. The book protects itself from all but its owner, and it can have only one owner at a time.”
“But this book is handed down through the dragon line. Why do you have it?”
“It was a gift from a toady.”
“Why would a toady give you such a gift?” Folgoo pressed, confusion evident in his voice.
“I was travelling near the realm of the water spirits. I came across the toady in a trap they had set—they have no love of visitors. Well, I have no love for the water spirits, so I freed him. The trap had injured the toady’s leg. He said that if I took him to his home, he would give me a gift of great worth. I had nothing to lose, so I did as he asked. He gave me the book. I don’t know how he got it, I didn’t ask.”
Folgoo moved further around the room. Coming to a table laden with shimmering fairy wings, “Did you kill the fairies that these wings belonged to?” he asked quietly.
Yarg frowned. “No, I’ve never killed anything. The fairies and I came to agreements.”
Folgoo stared into Yarg’s eyes. Yarg had the strange feeling that the centaur was trying to read his thoughts. “I’ve heard that the wings of fairies contain unique powers. Is that true?”
“Yes,” said Yarg as he reached for a brightly coloured green pair, putting them into Folgoo’s hand. “These wings give invisibility.”
Slowly Folgoo reached his hand out and stroked the wings. Instantly he could feel the power. “They make you want to keep them, don’t they?” he said, reluctantly pulling his hand away.
Yarg nodded as he laid them down and picked up another pair. “These wings have the gift of shape-shifting.” He laid them down and reached for a shimmering auburn pair. Folgoo reached to stroke them and felt the gift of knowledge. It was very powerful and Folgoo felt the urge to take the wings and run.
Slowly he took a step back. “I think we should leave now,” he said.
Yarg walked up to the table which held the book of forgotten things and stroked the cover. His fingers lingered on the book’s aged leather binding, then moved over each letter: S – I – S – E – M – E – N. Shaking himself, he picked up the book and moved towards Folgoo. He stretched out his hands, offering the ancient book to Folgoo. Folgoo stood staring at Yarg and the book, not sure what Yarg wanted him to do.
“Take the book. It’s yours. For all the friendship that you gave so freely.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Folgoo demanded. “Do you know what that book represents?”
Yarg placed the book into Folgoo’s hand. “Yes. I want you to have it.”
Folgoo stroked the cover. His hand tingled, then he felt a jolt that went right up his arm. He knew without being told that the book was recognising him as its new owner. “Thank you,” he said.
Carefully placing the book on the table nearest him, Folgoo lifted one hand to touch the medallion suspended from the chain around his neck. He drew the chain over his head and dropped it over Yarg’s. The medallion came to rest on Yarg’s chest.
“We are more than friends, Yarg, we are brothers. Brothers of the heart. Anytime you have need of me, hold the medallion and call my name.”
A lump formed in Yarg’s throat. “You believed in me, Folgoo, gave me your trust, as a brother would. Should you ever need me, you have only to send word.” Then, unable to deal with his rising emotions, he said gruffly, “Come, you have to leave, and I must go to Nemesis.”
Folgoo looked at him. “What about your last token?”
“Friendship’s Pledge? You just gave it to me, I think.”
Folgoo nodded. A tear slipped down his face as he embraced Yarg. “I will take you to Nemesis before I go home.”
They moved to the front of the great hall where Taliyard stood watch near the throne. Feeling deep in his heart that he might never see this place again, he took Taliyard by the shoulders. “I am going away again, Taliyard, and I don’t know if I will return. You must lead the trolls now.”
Then, to forestall whatever argument was about to come out of Taliyard’s opened mouth, he said, “And the first thing you can do is to start organising those weekly baths.”
As he had expected, revulsion at the idea drove all other thoughts from Taliyard’s head. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he and Folgoo slipped out before the other trolls could see them. Yarg looked around his castle one last time and then placed his hand on Folgoo’s back and closed his eyes.
When he opened them again he was in the Valley Mystic.
“That really is one cool gift you have there,” he said to Folgoo, a big grin on his face.
Folgoo grinned back, then became serious as the time for parting arrived. “Be safe, brother,” he whispered a moment before he disappeared.
Yarg stared at the spot where the centaur had been, feeling a bit overwhelmed now that he was alone. He turned towards his goal, and was distracted for a moment by the perfect vision before him—the thousands of brightly coloured flowers carpeting the ground, the clouds mirrored in the surface of the magnificent lake, the soft spray from the falling waterfall. Then, shaking off the mesmerising effect of the landscape, he checked once again that he had all the tokens, closed his bag and slipped into the cool water.
Yarg felt the healing water rush over him as he swam to the waterfall that sheltered the great dragon’s lair. His strokes got stronger and his mind became more focused on what lay before him. Calmness replaced the churning questions in his mind. He was ready.
11
Facing Kaylin
Yarg reached the waterfall’s edge, dove under the cascading water and resurfaced on the other side. Pulling himself up onto the ledge, he sat for a moment catching his breath.
Nemesis was behind him. Yarg felt the eyes watching him, smelt the sulphur and brimstone in the stirring air. Yarg shivered as he heard Nemesis move closer. He slowly turned around, only to realise that Nemesis was standing so close to him that he had to
bend backwards.
“Have you brought all the tokens?” the dragon asked in his gravelly voice.
“I have,” Yarg said.
Nemesis looked down at the troll. He could see that Yarg had come a long way since he had first come to the Valley Mystic. He only hoped that he had come far enough to save Kaylin.
“Come, Yarg,” he said, turning and walking deeper into his cave.
Trembling in anticipation, Yarg stood and followed. When he reached the middle of the cave, he dropped to one knee. He took the tokens from his bag and carefully laid them on the stone floor in front of him, naming them as he did so.
“An ancient moonray,” he began.
“Its light will penetrate Kaylin’s darkness,” Nemesis explained.
“The Sand of Memory,” Yarg continued.
“To gently restore the painful memories of that fateful day,” Nemesis added.
“Faith’s Courage?” this time questioning.
“You will have need of it,” Nemesis responded cryptically.
“The Essence of Innocence …”
“… will help you break through the shield.”
“And Mystical Music.”
“To draw Kaylin to us, to give her the will to come back to our world.”
Yarg sat back on his heels.
“And what of Friendship’s Pledge?” growled Nemesis.
Yarg reached behind his neck and undid the clasp, saddened to part with this symbol of his friendship with the brave centaur. Gently he lowered it to lie with the other tokens.
“No, place it around your neck. It will give you strength,” Nemesis said.
Nemesis looked at the items for a moment, then, “It’s time” he said softly. “Stand beside me, Yarg. Once we start, you must not turn your back on Kaylin, no matter what happens. Do you understand?”
Yarg nodded, then Nemesis continued. “Surrounding Kaylin is a protective shield. Only one with courage, innocence and the purest of intentions will be able to get through it, and even then it will pit itself against them, trying to keep them out. You must be sure that this is what you really want before you go to her.”
Nemesis and the Troll King Page 11