An Unexpected Deity (Book 7)

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “The journey is treacherous; do not hesitate to come back before conditions become too bad,” they warned the travelers.

  And with that, Bradstree led the way south, out of the village and back into the forested slopes that surrounded the gnomes’ enclave.

  The forest grew brighter as the morning grew older, allowing the elves and the imps to see their surroundings more clearly while they journeyed behind the silent gnome who was their guide. The route was in a direction Kestrel had not traveled when he had made his Garrant Spark quest with Hansen and Greta, so he was unfamiliar with the landscape they passed through.

  It was stony – rockier than the path they had walked when they had approached the village of the gnomes. The stones were large, weathered upthrusts of the bones of the mountains, dripping with moss and ferns and green, softened edges, and the terrain grew more rugged, though the path they were on managed to follow the contours with a relatively moderate degree of incline, so that the walking elves – and of course the floating imps – felt no great complaint about the difficulty of their morning trip.

  Bradstree called a halt in the early afternoon, near where a small brook came splashing down the mountainside. The travelers all began to eat food from their supplies, as Kestrel took the loaf of acorn bread he had confiscated that morning in Oaktown, and split it three ways with Putienne and Wren.

  The gnome looked at them closely. “That looks fresh,” he spoke, one of the first things he had said to them all day.

  “It is. Would you like some?” Wren asked.

  Bradstree looked puzzled, then shook his head and dismissed the matter from his attention.

  “What will the journey be like this afternoon?” Kestrel asked.

  “We’ll have an easy way for another hour, then we start to climb for the rest of the day. We’ll need to hurry if we want to get to the sheltering caves before sunset. It’s the only reasonable place to plan to spend the night up there,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Let’s get going then,” Kestrel said. “We can eat while we walk.”

  Bradstree grunted and then stood and began traveling once again.

  The next hour was a similar steady climb, as he had said, and then the challenge of the mountains’ steeper slopes began.

  The path began to grow steep, and the travelers soon found that they had panoramic views looking down on the land they had just traversed. They could see the rolling forest terrain they had come across, all spread out to the north of them, while to the east and the west they could see a range of mountains, the abrupt beginning of the front they were climbing. And they could see that it rose high, far higher than the level they were observing from.

  “I understand a little better why the gnomes were trying to scare us away from this trip,” Wren said to Kestrel as they continued to climb, their path snaking along the contours of an outthrust of the mountain they were on.

  “We need to keep going, and hurry,” Bradstree called back to the others. “The sun will set in a few hours, and we have a long climb still ahead of us.”

  He set the speed at a steady, unflinching pace, and the elves followed without complaint, until late in the afternoon.

  “It’s getting cooler,” Putienne observed as their path swung into a dark canyon where they were in deep shadow.

  “And the air is getting thinner too,” Stillwater chimed in as he swooped down close to Kestrel. “My people are not enjoying this.”

  “Send them home,” Kestrel said suddenly.

  “What?” Stillwater asked.

  “As long as one or two of you are with us, able to call the others, there’s no reason for everyone to make this climb.

  “The same goes for us,” he added. “Would either of you like to go back to Oaktown, or to Seafare?” he looked at Wren as they strode up the mountainside. “The imps can carry you there now. As long as one of us gets to the cave at the top, we’ll be fine.”

  “Creata would be surprised to see me return,” Wren said thoughtfully.

  “Would you be safe in this place with only a few imps to guard you?” Stillwater asked.

  “There is no threat here, no dangers that I see, except from growing tired in the thin air,” Kestrel answered.

  “Would that boy at your home, Remy, be able to show me the land around your home?” Putty suddenly asked.

  Kestrel’s eyes widened in surprise at the question, and at the unspoken implications he read into the question.

  “Remy would be delighted to take you on a tour of Oaktown, I’m sure,” he answered. “Bradstree,” he spoke loudly to gain the gnome’s attention, “we’d like to stop for five minutes.”

  “Wren, I’ll send imps to pick you up in the morning,” he told his cousin. “You go surprise Creata and have a good evening.

  “Putienne, you and I will go to Oaktown, and ask Remy to give you a tour, then I’ll come back here and finish traveling with Bradstree.”

  “Stillwater, would your people make these travel arrangements for us?” Kestrel asked. “We’ll be grateful for this chance to have the luxury of making such trips,” he said.

  “Of course, friend Kestrel,” Stillwater replied. The imps began to descend and close around the travelers.

  “I’ll be back in five minutes,” Kestrel told Bradstree, and the hastily arranged exodus began.

  “Good bye Kestrel and Putienne! I’ll see you tomorrow,” Wren called just before she disappeared from view.

  “What is happening?” Bradstree asked in astonishment.

  “Five minutes,” Kestrel answered, as he was swarmed by imps, and then he too was gone from the mountainside, and returned to his study in Oaktown.

  “Stillwater, I’ll only need an escort back to the mountainside in a few minutes, and then your people will be free for the rest of the day,” Kestrel said.

  “Remy!” he called loudly as he opened the door of his study, with Putienne following closely behind him. He started walking towards his bedroom as he called for the boy.

  “My lord?” Whyte’s voice sounded down the hallway. Moments later, the steward appeared from a doorway. “Is everything alright, my lord?”

  “We’ve decided to handle our expedition a little differently this time, Whyte. I’d like Remy to provide guide services to Putienne today, to show her around the manor and the village and the lands nearby,” Kestrel answered as he opened his door and led his impromptu entourage inside.

  “I know he’ll behave in the most gentleman-like manner, of course,” Kestrel said. “And I expect I’ll be back home tonight as well, perhaps with another guest.” He reached into a closet and pulled out a fur cape, one that he thought would protect him from the mountaintop chill.

  “That’s quite a busy agenda, my lord,” Whyte responded. “I’m sure Remy will behave appropriately, and the young lady will have no complaints,” he said.

  “Thank you Whyte. Good bye, Putty, you have a good day,” he leaned over and kissed the girl’s cheek, as the imps quickly surrounded him once again, and then he returned to the chilly mountainside, where the confounded gnome was sitting on a fallen tree trunk.

  “I’m ready to go,” he told Bradstree.

  “What about the others?” the gnome asked.

  “We’ll see them later,” Kestrel replied. “I didn’t see any reason for all of us to have to make this journey.”

  “But that’s not fair!” Bradstree protested. “We’re going to do all the work, and they’ll get to the village of Proetec without doing anything!”

  “They’re enjoying themselves, and that’s okay with me,” Kestrel said. “They’re friends, and they are not taking advantage of us – we’re taking care of them.

  “Let’s move on, and we’ll find things aren’t so bad at the end of the day,” he added.

  “”Is everything alright?” Stillwater asked. “If so, we’ll go our own ways now.”

  “You may go,” Kestrel smiled at his friend. “I’ll call you this evening when Bradstree and I have fini
shed our journey, and perhaps we’ll go to the healing spring on our way home,” he offered a bonus to the imps for their services.

  “We’ll come back the instant you call!” Stillwater agreed, and then the remaining imps disappeared, except for Mulberry.

  “I’ll stay with you, to keep you out of trouble, if you don’t mind,” the imp told Kestrel, as he looked at her with a puzzled expression.

  “Really, Kestrel-friend, I just want to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don’t have any problems,” she said in an exasperated tone. “And to make sure you don’t break the hearts of any random female forest creatures you might run into and try to strike up a relationship with!” she added with a laugh.

  “Let’s go, Bradstree,” Kestrel spoke in gnomish to his guide, and they started walking up the path.

  “I want you to go someplace warm if this gets too troublesome for you,” Kestrel told Mulberry.

  “And I’m glad you have remained,” he added sincerely. For all the teasing that the imp aimed at Kestrel, he knew that she, and all of the others, were faithful to him, and had complete confidence in any decision he made.

  Their route climbed a steep rise, gaining hundreds of feet in altitude in the next hour, and even the elven calf and thigh muscles Kestrel relied on began to ache and burn from exertion, while the air grew colder. The effort reminded Kestrel of his run from Oaktown to Center Trunk while accompanied by Captain Lim and a squad of guards just a few weeks earlier, and he made himself continue to lift and move his feet forward and upward.

  He glanced up at Mulberry, who was flying very low, nearly even with the top of his head, and he realized that she was fading from blue to gray in the increasingly harsh conditions.

  “Mulberry friend, you should go to a warm place. I don’t want you to suffer,” he told her.

  “May I come inside your cape and ride with you?” she asked with chattering teeth.

  “I think a warm spot in Blackfriars would be more delightful for you, but I would be happy to have you stay with me if you want to snuggle up. Just be careful where you put your hands, or I’ll tell Acanthus!” he answered immediately.

  Mulberry dove down, then rose up along his back, and poked her head out of the back of his neck hole, her hands wrapped around his shoulders as she clung to him.

  “I’ll be the mature one in this matter, and ignore your baseless comments,” she said loftily, “especially since you feel so warm!”

  Kestrel laughed, and continued to climb, relieved that the trail hit a short stretch of level progress, where he didn’t have to fight gravity so strenuously.

  “Let’s stop and rest, Bradstree,” he called out, and halted to breathe deeply, his hands on his hips.

  “We can rest for a little while; we’ve made good progress,” the gnome agreed. “But we don’t want to have to try to climb very much after dark. The trail is too treacherous, and we want to reach that cave.”

  “Let’s move on then,” Kestrel said, breathing heavily, and they began to walk once again.

  Over the next hour the sun began to sink farther and farther towards the western horizon. Kestrel continued to climb, struggling and slowing down as the air grew thinner and the temperatures grew colder. They entered a region of cold clammy, fog, and Kestrel could barely keep his eyes on Bradstree’s heels as the fog and the growing darkness reduced visibility to nearly nothing.

  “We’ll have to stop here,” Bradstree said half an hour later, abruptly ceasing his climb at a point where the path was slightly sheltered as it ran through a small grove of stunted trees. The sun was nearly down, and the chill was growing more pronounced. Kestrel was thankful to have Mulberry riding silently on his back, the warmth of her body pressed against his torso.

  The fog was clearing away, but bitter winds were starting to blow, whistling through the trees around them.

  “How much further to the cave?” Kestrel asked, raising his voice to be heard over the noisy breeze.

  “We’d need at least another hour, but we can’t see, so it might as well be forever. We aren’t going to try to climb this trail in the dark,” he said adamantly.

  “Why do we stop? What does the gnome say?” Mulberry asked.

  Kestrel quickly translated.

  “Kestrel-friend, can you make light for us to see by? Can you make a great glow?” Mulberry’s voice floated from behind him as she considered the news.

  “Perhaps,” he murmured. The idea had not occurred to him, his mind befuddled by the thin air and the day of heavy exertion.

  He focused his attention on the need for light, and he thought of the glowing blue dome he had used to protect himself in the recent spate of battles he had waged.

  The dome suddenly flashed into bright existence all around them, and Bradstree yelped in fear.

  “Is that enough light to see the trail?” Kestrel asked.

  “This is your doing? You can make this glow?” the gnome asked in wonder, looking at Kestrel with respect for the first time in the day.

  “This is my doing, but I will not be able to do it forever,” Kestrel replied. “If you think you can see enough, then start walking, and let’s try to reach your cave.”

  “I’ll try to do my best,” Bradstree replied, and he faced back towards the trail and started to slowly climb once again.

  They made slow progress as they could only see a few feet beyond the border of Kestrel’s glowing dome, but Kestrel was happier to walk slowly as night fell completely and the wind grew from a nuisance to a problem. The trail left the trees and was exposed to the open elements. Small pellets of ice intermittently began to pelt them, and made the stony trail grow slippery and dangerous.

  “Should we just stop and go home now, Kestrel-warmer?” Mulberry asked.

  “Should we give up for the night?” Kestrel asked Bradstree in turn. He was willing to be transported to the warm waters of the healing spring immediately, and didn’t need much persuasion to make the transition.

  “It should only be a hundred yards away,” the gnome replied. “I don’t want to give up now,” and so they crept ahead at their plodding, careful pace, Kestrel also feeling that the victory of reaching the cave was worth just a few more yards.

  And then they entered a passage with stony walls on both sides of the trail. The wind blew straight through the passage, directly into their faces, forcing them to walk with their eyes mostly shut, until Bradstree gave a sudden whooping shout.

  “Here it is! Turn left into here,” he spoke loudly over the sound of the wind.

  Kestrel peeked forward and saw the guide disappear into an irregular dark spot in the side of the passage, and he followed him in.

  There was immediate, blessed relief from the painful wind and the pelting ice. Kestrel wiped his hand across his face to scrape away the deposited frosty coating, and exhaled wearily. They had reached the cave, and were safe from the night on the mountain.

  The gnome gave a sigh of relief.

  “It’s still cold, but at least there’s not sleet and wind,” Bradstree said.

  “Let’s go someplace better,” Kestrel suggested.

  “There is no place better. This is as good as it gets. If we’re lucky, in the morning the sky will be clear, and we’ll be able to crest the ridge to start down into the valley where Proetec’s people live,” Bradstree answered.

  “There is a better place – a place that is warm and comfortable. The imps can take us there tonight, and bring us back here in the morning to resume our journey,” Kestrel answered.

  “Mulberry, will you call the others to come and carry us to the healing spring – me and the gnome?” Kestrel asked in elvish.

  “Why would I want to let those flutterers carry me someplace? How do I know they won’t drop me?” Bradstree asked, revealing once again the enduring distrust that existed between the two races.

  “They won’t – they’ve never dropped me,” Kestrel assured him, as several imps appeared in the cave.

  “This is unpleasan
t, Kestrel-winter-bringer,” Killcen complained as soon as he arrived at the cave with the other imps.

  “That is why I have asked you to come here, to take us away to the healing spring, and then to Oaktown afterwards,” Kestrel agreed.

  “Mulberry mentioned a trip to the healing spring, but I do not see her – where is she?” Killcen asked.

  “I’m right here, loyally serving our elf-friend,” Mulberry’s muffled voice sounded from behind him. “I’m ready and waiting to carry our friend someplace warm!” she added.

  The imps began to descend around Kestrel.

  “Bradstree, trust me, and allow the imps to bring you with me. We will discuss this later. I am sure your village elders would not want you to leave me alone on the journey,” he cajoled the gnome.

  “This does not seem to fit what you say, but I will go with you for now, and we will discuss it later,” the gnome grudgingly agreed.

  The imps surrounded the two, and they vanished from the frozen cave as they were transported through the empty dimension that the imps used. Moments later they landed on the banks of the healing spring, where the imps immediately began to prepare themselves for immersion in the water.

  “I never want to do that again!” Bradstree spoke loudly as soon as the imps ungrappled from him. “I thought I was going to suffocate!” he exclaimed.

  “Why are they undressing?!” he asked immediately afterwards as he observed the imps.

  “The way the imps travel will never get comfortable, but it is always the fastest way to travel,” Kestrel answered.

  He picked up an imp and laid him in the water. “Mulberry, where are you?” he called. “You’ve earned the opportunity to enter the water quickly.”

  “You still even feel cold!” he told her as he lifted her towards the water.

  “Your flesh did not warm me up as much as you would like for all females to believe!” she laughed, then fell asleep as she entered the water.

  “The imps fall asleep in this water,” Kestrel explained to Bradstree, as he continued to lift and soak them. “We’ll get in the water too, but we will not sleep.”

  Minutes later, his labors done, Kestrel removed his own clothes, even though his pants were already soaked from standing in the shallow water.