He had ridden west out of the town, farther than he had ever gone before. In that direction, he knew of nothing. A boy of his own town, he only concerned himself with the world of Smead. Now that world was gone.
The choice to make camp came suddenly. A noise or something spooked him and he found a tree to tie Heel up. It took him about a half an hour to get a fire lit. His father had once shown him survival skills even though Fret was reluctant to learn them. Silently he thanked his father.
A small fire, yet enough to keep up his courage. He unpacked the mirror fragment and laid it next to him. Silly thing.
You think that what you are doing is silly? The voice startled Fret.
“I didn’t say that.”
But I read your mind. At this, Fret’s eyes grew wider. Magic. Power. Silence hung as he stared at the mirror. Her image took shape.
Is this better? Lyra asked in a smooth, feminine tone. Fret’s cheeks flushed, and his palms started to sweat. Am I so silly now?
“Um…yeah. I mean no.” She was beautiful, exactly from a reoccurring dream of his. Did she pull that out of my mind too?
I need you to take me somewhere. A soft command followed by a pulse of blue.
“Anywhere. Just let me know.”
Somewhere in the Territories.
He started to say sure but his mind caught his word. It came out like a hushing sound. “The Territories?” Fret desperately tried to keep the stutter out of his voice. The Territories were forbidden, dangerous, and evil. Even for the likes of him.
I don’t see why that would be a problem for a big, strong guy like you. Lyra tugged on his emotions.
“But how would I get there? The boundary? The wall?” Fret wanted to please, but some part of his mind was still cautious.
Shhh…leave that to me. Sleep now. And the mirror light pulsed softly, luring him into sleep. Fret dreamed of a pretty girl.
Chapter Six
While Euphoria slept the night away in Hazel’s spare bed, Taylon paced nervously back and forth. Everything had been going right for a change and now the attack, the box, and the theft. He wished, somehow, he could go and restart the day.
Toms the cobbler was a nice man but provided nothing new. He had not seen Fret or anyone that day. Toms was busy at work in his shed. When they looked around the house, Taylon found an empty stable where one horse usually resided. Fret’s father thought nothing of it.
“The boy is young, let him have his adventure.”
“Has Fret ever taken the horse before and not returned by night?” Taylon asked, knowing the answer would be no. He was right.
“Some tea?” Hazel called to him. Taylon stopped midstride in his pacing, looked up ready to answer, but the question slipped his mind. “Sit. I will bring you some tea. Calms the anxious mind.”
Taylon followed orders. His mind did not rest though. Possibilities galore ran rampant in his head about the matter of this town bully. Which way had he ridden off? Had he pitched the pieces of the mirror somewhere? Could the wraith even come back from just those pieces?
Then there was the assassin. What happened to her? And why did she attack?
A cup appeared before the captain. He took it with a nod. Aromas of cinnamon and fruit hit his nose with the first drink. It warmed going down.
Hazel situated in another chair with her own cup. Her eyes never left Taylon as she sipped. He caught her stare, but she did not try to hide it.
“Do you love her?”
It was not the question he expected from her. His mouth moved, false starting with the wrong words, and then it stuttered as he changed his thoughts. Finally, he went with a simple “Yes.”
“Does she know?”
Another pause, but a quicker response. “I think so, but it is complicated.”
“Because you are a captain and not a prince?”
“No, it’s nothing like that…”
Hazel sipped again, watching him. “She’s not the same.”
Taylon’s heart perked at the abstract comment. “What do you mean?”
Old eyes watched him. “When Euphoria was twelve, she came down with a serious illness. La’ard’s royal alchemist and medical people had no clue and no cure. My mother and I happened to be running our booth at the marketplace when the guard came by and nabbed us. The king put out a request for any and all medicine practitioners to present themselves before the court. My mother and I were one of five they found that day.
“The two before me were killed on the spot when they claimed to have no medical training and couldn’t help. Roughly, I was shoved forward to present myself. I examined Euphoria while she lay in her bed suffering. Instantly, I recognized the ailment. Not so much from the symptoms but because of what sat next to her bed. An ugenia flowering plant….”
Hazel paused to sip. Taylon pondered her tale. He fidgeted while his mind sought what to tell her and what to keep secret.
“I spent three days with her. The plant was burned, and I am sure whoever gave that gift was also punished. After the princess was better, I was kicked to the curb. And soon after, the marketplace was closed down. It reopened, but there were new, stricter laws about who could sell. My mother and I could not.”
Taylon kept silent as the old lady finished her drink. He took a sip of his own tea. It silently worked, calming his mind. The stress hung there, but it was rounder at the edges, manageable.
“Just like a captain, tight-lipped. That woman in there is not the Euphoria I treated. She looks like a grown-up version, but inside, that is not her.” Hazel leaned forward as she said this, driving her point home.
The whole story was something he wished he could share, but his training and mind told him to keep it to himself. He looked into his tea—what was left of it. Hazel made a grunt and got up from where she sat. When Taylon looked up, she had gone to bed.
His worries, concerns, and questions haunted him through the night.
***
Niava’s Niche proved to be a quaint little tavern. Gantha’s saviors led him to the inn and got him into a room. No introductions came, but Gantha couldn’t care less. Still a bit shaken from the whole Kerlick attack, he needed a stiff drink to put his cares aside.
The dwarf stayed below in the bar with a pint, while the female accompanied him to his room. Once the door shut, she took down her hood. An Opi’Chi clan elf looked back at him. She was hauntingly beautiful, dark hair upon dark skin, but her reflective, silver eyes contrasted those deep tones.
“So the council sends a rookie to do their job.”
“Um, no.”
“Could have fooled me. I’m just glad I received Da’Lynn’s message and decided to meet you halfway.”
Gantha fumbled in his robes. The name of his contact was on a scrap of scroll. “You…you’re…”
“Ra’na.” The elf moved about the room, looking it over. Gantha’s eyes followed wherever she went.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” Gantha said, not knowing what else to say.
She gave a brief smile and headed for the door. “We should probably get down there soon. Lourak will have told the whole tavern the story of how he defeated everyone with his eyes closed.” And before Gantha could answer, she threw open the door and departed.
The councilman stared after her before his mind gave him a jumpstart. Ra’na was already down the stairs when he came out on the balcony. He stepped quickly.
Niava’s had a small crowd for this evening, which sampled every race. Gantha saw a group of goblins in the corner, glancing out at the crowd every so often. An old Minotaurian sat alone at a table covered with steins. One of the cups emitted a faint glow as if a fairy or sprite hid within. Raucous laughter from a table opposite the bull caused Gantha to jump as something came flying by, hitting the ground next to him. It looked like a glob of regurgitated food. Kobolds, five of them, all stared wide-eyed and pointed at him.
“Disgusting creatures,” the elf muttered as he stepped over the food splatter. Ra’na sat down a
t a table where the dwarf kicked back in his chair, his stein tilted too. Gantha approached and took a seat next to Ra’na. Lourak slammed the mug on the table.
“Ahh, nothin’ like some good ale ta end a good fight. Maybe ’nother. Elf Boy, go fetch me ’nother.”
Elf Boy? Who did this man think he was to address him as such? Yet this dwarf had slain a rider and his horse to save him. A nod from Ra’na, and Gantha took the stein up to the bar. Once a councilman, now a common servant, for a dwarf nonetheless.
Behind the bar, a very beautiful woman watched him as he approached. She did not have any telltale marks of her race, so Gantha thought she could be a nymph. He found himself a bit bedazzled by her eyes.
“What can I do for you, sssir?” Her words were husky yet feminine. Not a nymph, for they always had voices that were similar to songbirds. And this voice drew out her sounds, almost as if….
“Um…fill this up with whatever the dwarf was having.” Gantha cocked a thumb back at Lourak.
“Oh yesss, I know just the thing. And anything for you?”
Again her words drew out. What race is she? “Not just yet. Still getting over the excitement. Maybe later when my stomach settles.”
The bartender nodded and proceeded down the counter. A slithering sound made Gantha follow her progress. The lower half of her body was a snake! Suddenly he identified the race. His stomach did another flip. An echidna! A she-viper! He always thought they lived up in the mountains somewhere.
Gantha did a terrible job of hiding his shock. A brief look of disgust flashed over her face but then changed to an unreadable expression. She set the stein down. “I’m Niava, by the way.” Her hand shot out and hung in the air.
Cautiously, he extended his own and shook hers. “I’m Gan—” Suddenly, she yanked his arm back so hard his shoulder cried out in pain. She pulled his face next to hers.
“Listen, Elf. I make an honessst living here, and my customersss enjoy the atmosssphere. Don’t go judging me on my rassse, becaussse you don’t want to messss with me. Everything you know about my rasse is probably true. My lower half can crush a sssimple elf like you in a matter of minutesss.”
Gantha tried to pull away but then gave up and listened to the advice. When she brought up the tip of her tail, panic spiked through him.
Her arm strength immobilized him as her words cooed him. “Husssh, husssh. Calm. We won’t have any trouble from you, will we?” Gantha forced his head to shake back and forth to answer her. “Good.”
And suddenly she grabbed the sides of his head and brought him in for a kiss. Gantha flailed, struggling to get free. He fell backward as Niava let him go. He hit the floor, missing a table by an inch. Laughter in various tones surrounded him. Niava herself smiled and wiped her mouth.
Hands came from behind and picked him up. He glanced around nervously, not sure who was helping. Ra’na stood, her coy smile greeting him. Gantha felt his face flush with embarrassment, and some anger creeped in as well. Is this a joke?
“She’s just teasing with you, Gantha. Niava does it to all the new clientele,” Ra’na whispered.
“Sssorry, Elf. Had to messss with you a bit. Don’t really take kindly to people judging me, but I’m not that mean. Sssss!”
Gantha looked around again, straightening his clothes. “That’s okay. I’m sorry that I did judge. Never met an echidna before.” He stepped an inch closer to the bar.
“Jussst to ssshow no hard feelingsss.” Niava placed her hand out again for Gantha to shake. This time he looked at it for a long while and then went to shake it. At first it was a normal shake, and then he felt himself being drawn quickly to the bar. Her other hand wrapped around his head and she kissed him hard. He fought but did not pull back as forcefully.
When the kiss broke, he stumbled back a few feet. Laughter again. His hair was a mess and shirt rumpled. Quickly, he turned and went back to the table. “You can go get your own LaHieming beer.” Choosing a chair, he sat facing away from the bar and sulked. Ra’na returned moments later with Lourak’s stein, one for her, and she placed a mug in front of Gantha.
“Compliments of Niava,” Ra’na said with a smirk. Gantha growled under his breath. The dwarf wasted no time and grabbed the stein. Ale slopped down the sides of his face and into his beard as he chugged the liquid down. Lourak slammed the half-empty mug on the table.
“Ahh, bettah than thee last.” He swung his feet off the table and sat up. Foam still dripped from his red, curly beard.
Ra’na looked toward the dwarf before she began. “I know we haven’t properly introduced ourselves. This here is Lourak—”
“Lourak the Brave,” the dwarf added.
“It’s the brave now?”
“It sounded a mite catchy…fer da ladies.”
“Uh-huh. Lourak the Brave. And I am Ra’na, as you know.”
Lourak slapped Gantha on the shoulder, gave a nod, and raised his eyes toward Ra’na. “Ra’na the Beautiful.”
The dark elf slapped the dwarf upside the head.
“Little man, there will be none of that. Anyway, Da’Lynn didn’t tell me much about the mission; you need help at Aladedas?”
Gantha still didn’t feel like talking but also hated to be rude. He took his stein and gulped a decent swallow. It was not bad ale, and once it hit his insides, he found he might be able to stomach another mugful. He might be ready to eat soon.
“The Spoken One.” His mouth felt dry from those few words. He took another swallow.
“Pftt! They sent you out here because of a prophecy?” Ra’na laughed.
Lourak looked a bit confused. “What?”
“I need to find a human wizard.” Gantha did not like this conversation much, but the beer mellowed his nerves.
“Good luck trying—”
“You mean Ynob?” Ra’na interrupted the dwarf.
Gantha turned, looking startled. “The council didn’t mention a name. They knew of a human wizard near Aladedas. Thought he might help figure out more on the prophecy.”
Lourak looked back and forth from elf to elf. “Aye gotta say, this talk is getting a mite stiff for me. Think aye’ll find me another mate.” The dwarf walked away toward the Minotaurian’s table.
Ra’na stared after him. “If it’s not about battle, women, or food, Lourak’s usually not interested.”
Gantha drained his stein, savoring the last of the ale. His stomach rumbled for food, but before he could suggest it, Ra’na did. She sauntered to the bar, relaying their order to the echidna. Gantha was relieved he wasn’t in close proximity to Niava. Especially when she gave him a small wave before slithering off to deliver the order to the kitchen.
Ra’na brought back replenished mugs of ale. She took a good swig from hers before sitting down. “I know you must have many questions, as do I. But can we wait until we are done with the food?”
“I second that motion,” Gantha said as he toasted with his stein.
Chapter Seven
Chele grasped a tree, panting into the night. Never had she taken a journey that had been this strenuous.
“Can we just sit for a minute? My feet are killing me,” Chele cried out again, knowing the elf wouldn’t respond to her desperate pleas. She hadn’t stopped once for the last hour, even to turn around and scold. Night engulfed them, and the elf’s home looked to be nowhere in sight.
A wolf cry sounded, long and lonely. A call to wake the others. The elf snapped her head in that direction. Wolves would be coming. They smelled blood.
“Why can’t we sit for a moment?” Chele pouted, collapsing by a tree.
Another howl reverberated in the night.
“That’s why we have to run!” Katrena pointed in the direction of the animal cry. “And now!” Katrena yanked Chele to her feet. Instantly, Chele stubbornly dug in her heels, resisting her new master. Katrena let go, causing Chele to tumble back.
“Fine! Be that way, stupid human. I thought I was doing you a favor, but if you prefer death by Lire wolve
s, well…be my guest.” Katrena dropped the rope leash and turned to run.
Chele watched, yelled, and finally got to her feet and followed quickly. The elf seemed to know the way easily, but Chele continued to trip, stumble, and otherwise panic.
“Slow down! Please! I’m sorry.” But her cries went unheard. A log tripped her up, and she fell face-first into a clump of mud. Tears, pain, and just plain panic racked her nerves as she rolled back and forth, looking for her captor. Katrena was gone.
“No! No…no….” Her screams became sobs. Another howl rattled the night, close enough to drown out her own cry. Chele barely made it to her knees.
Owwwwwwwl.
The wolves! Instantly her legs were under her, and Chele ran toward where she last saw the elf. It was a blind run. A branch lashed her across the face, and then a thicker one caught her midsection. She spun but was able to keep her footing.
What did her in was another fallen tree. As she toppled to the ground, a thin branch whipped across her face, blinding one eye. White-hot fire blazed. One hand went to her face, while the other tried to break her fall. It was unsuccessful.
Chele crashed to the earth on her shoulder, hard. Something cracked inside her. A firework of pain erupted in her torso.
Something was definitely behind her. Was that panting? She tried to roll onto her back, but any movement caused the hurt to surge. Her vision was still blurry as she looked forward. A house straight ahead? Chele shook her head, hoping to clear her vision. Another howl, one that was definitely gut-wrenching, came from only a few feet behind her. It was death calling to its friends. In a panicked moment, she flipped around to see her hunter.
Glowing, slanted, orange eyes approached slowly. Just a pair, and then another. The forest echoed their steps, their panting—a heavy, deep, breathy sound. Chele could swear she heard salvia drop from their maws.
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