Thedius then sealed the cloud with a breath, and regretfully announced, “Hence, I am afraid to say, dear lad, your time in my house is almost at an end. Tonight…you must return. Ebyulán’s time is over on this great mountain, for the time being. We have done what we needed to do. But always we will pray for you, lad…and we hope that your situation proves prosperous before the end.”
Once again, time had triumphed, even over this great and magical haven of Ebyulàn.
Grateful for everything that he’d learnt and, moreover, for the hospitality, William respected the man’s wishes, and said, “I understand, Thedius. And I can’t thank you enough…for everything. The food. Your advice. Really, it means a lot.”
“I know what I know, and I help when I can.” The man said with a little wink.
With a faint ‘ahem,’ a shy-looking Grogoch pardoned himself.
“Sorry for the intrusion,” he said softly. “But, Redmun said it’s time, William. We must be off.”
“I know…” uttered the lad, somewhat doleful about leaving. “…I’m on my way.”
About to depart Thedius’ company, the king took William’s shoulder once more, and whispered, “Never be afraid to believe, William. For only when the shadow grows deepest is it hope’s time to shine. Let it. Let it! May God be with you, my boy, because everybody else is.”
With those last few endearing words, William showed some final thanks, and went to convene with his friends.
They were dawdling by the gates of that enchanted kingdom when William joined them. A person short, no less. Wren, don’t you know, had since been summoned by Thedius, for reasons unknown. Soon enough, she returned with Thedius after being out in the gardens. Wren was caressing her bad shoulder.
“What was that about?” William asked her.
Delaying so briefly that he couldn’t tell if she was troubled or not, Wren said, “Oh, Thedius just gave me a tonic for my shoulder. Right as rain again. Could rip the scabby wings off a Fudúch, so I could!”
She giggled, but she seemed nervous, so he replied, “Fair enough,” and put it to one side for the time being.
Having all since been made aware of the armies below, they were preparing themselves for off, double-checking their supplies and whatnot. Thedius had also provided them with some further rations. That way they wouldn’t need to fret about going hungry in the days ahead.
So, well rested and bellies full, they were ready to tackle the darklands. However, someone else had other tasks to undertake.
Hunkering before William, Redmun looked upon him through newly enlightened eyes, eyes which spoke of new and mysterious understandings.
He said, “I must leave you now, lad. I’ve spoken with Thedius, and there are other important duties which require my direct attention. But, rest assured, I will return to you as soon as I can…I promise.”
“You’re leaving us…already? Do you have to? Is it really that important?”
“More than you know,” Redmun replied.
“Well,” the lad said sadly, “if you say so. But you promise to come back?”
“Have faith, boy,” said the Erethaoí, with so deep a consideration, that William was beginning to wonder about his tidings. “I shall return very soon. I shan’t let you down.”
William surrendered his trust and accepted Redmun’s word, but he couldn’t refute a kind of strange sorrow within him. Like he was happy about what he’d learnt, and yet threatened at the same time.
As such, he asked, “Your news. Was it good?”
“I never would have imagined it.” Redmun said to him. “Now, I must go. And—” he stalled, “—take care of yourself, lad.”
“I will,” William promised. “And you be careful, too.”
“That I shall.”
“All will be just fine, William,” smiled Stell, slinging on a fresh quiver. “He’ll be back before you know it. Just you see! In the meantime, we shall try make merry as best we can. What do you say?”
“Well, we’ll certainly try!” smirked the boy, wishing it could be that easy.
Suddenly, Pew came scuttling along. He didn’t patter up to Redmun as normal, for he appeared torn between two people. The Erethaoí and William.
“It looks to me like the Poppum would like to assist you on your quest.” Redmun grinned, putting on his gloves.
“No, no,” the lad gestured, with Pew’s bulging brown eyes staring up at him. “He’s your pet. He should go with you.”
“Well, if he chooses to follow you, then we cannot deny him that, now can we? Who knows? He may even have some role to play in this chronicle yet,” said the man, and giving the Poppum a playful caress, he said, “Go with whom you will, little Poppum. No grudges shall be held upon your decision.”
Stalling momentarily, Pew then hugged Redmun’s leg before taking the side of William. This was not done out of any particular preference, mind you. The little mite just wanted to tag along on William’s adventure for a change. And so he did.
Khrum refused to surrender his perch on William’s shoulder, so the Poppum hopped on Wren’s shoulder instead, where he got himself quite comfortable.
“Hello, you,” the girl doted, puckering her lips. “Want to come with me, do you? Well, you’re more than welcome.”
Chirping with glee, Pew lapped her cheek and she laughed.
“There now.” Redmun said and smiled. “He shall certainly be a worthy substitute, until I find you again. Have no doubts about that. I trust you know your way through the canyons, my good Elf? As far as I can recall, save for a few tunnels and bridges, the Bohàr Pass is nought but one path, old and of weathered wood. This should lead you to the tunnels within. There shouldn’t be much confusion. And remember, that place is a graveyard now, so beware the dead.”
Icrick and Khrum knew their way through the labyrinths of Lór better than anyone, provided it hadn’t changed much over the years. Yet they didn’t let on, for the sake of Anun’s request.
“Duly noted,” said Stell. “Go easy, my friend. We shall meet again before the dawning of the eclipse.”
“That we shall,” the Erethaoí agreed. “Good luck to you all! I’ll return as swiftly as I am able. So long.”
Facing the skies, he launched into the night like a rocket. His flight-trail forged a single loop as he blasted back towards the east with a volcanic boom. In seconds, he was gone. Gone about his covert dealings.
“I wonder what he’s up to.” William said suspiciously.
“Yes. And why didn’t he tell us anything about it?” Icrick put in. “But, knowing Redmun, it’s probably something important. Something useful to our quest, maybe! Whatever it is, I hope he doesn’t take too long.”
Thedius then graced their circle, and smiled. “Let him be, my friends. You needn’t worry about his duties. You have your own task to focus on. The Erethaoí can take good care of himself. Now, allow me introduce you to your transport.”
A crew of funny little sprites came plodding along. Ghost sprites, to be more precise.
No more than two feet tall, these creatures were almost completely transparent but for a lime-green tint. Garbed in heavy leather masks with big black goggles, they toddled along merrily, making noises like funny kazoos. Tiny tufts of fine Irish ginger sprouted from their heads, and they had floppy, cow-like ears. These sprites were known as Vòltas, or Spirit-Gliders, and they were very loyal to Thedius indeed.
Heavy-looking packs, stuffed with day-blue silk, were hoisted to their backs. And solid metal fixtures were strapped to their chests, like clamps of some kind. They also carried thick, buckskin safety harnesses; those of which had peculiar fixtures of their own, sticking out from the nape.
“Put those harnesses on good ‘n’ tight now,” advised Thedius, speaking for the Vòltas, who couldn’t speak any other language but their own. “We don’t want any of you slipping out now, do we?” He laughed.
“Slipping out?!” Icrick quivered. “How do you mean, ‘slipping out’?”
&n
bsp; “Now, now,” Thedius sniggered. “Don’t you go getting in a panic, young Grogoch! Vòlta flight is really quite safe…granted the winds sail true.”
“Granted? Flight? True?” trembled Icrick. “Y-You mean these tiny, little, see-through, Gremliny things—which, might I add, barely look strong enough to hold up their own ears, let alone a person—are going to fly us into Lòr?”
Highly outraged by that ‘ear’ remark, the Vòltas bickered amongst one another, whistling and tooting, as if to say, “Who do you think you’re talking to, you stinking gas-bag?!”
Furthermore, you can probably tell from Icrick’s mood that the spell of Ebyulàn was slowly wearing off and, again, their ill-feelings were suppurating back into their bellies, like an unyielding infection. None of them were really expecting that joyous mood to last, however, so they did nought but accept it.
“Don’t be fooled by their size, lad. I’ve seen many a Vòlta carrying things as big as cows! So I don’t think you have any need to fear; being the squirt-of-a-critter that you are.” Thedius howled.
The Gliders handed them a harness each, apart from Khrum, who was going with William.
They strapped on the equipment, and were surprised by how comfortable it was. It was really quite cosy, albeit their arms were slightly propped up and out of their natural position.
The Gliders, crawling onto each of their backs, attached these harnesses to their own front fixtures. It took a few minutes to get everything bolted and checked, but they were soon geared up with those ghostly sprites secured to their shoulders.
“What now?” Stell asked, and the rest were inclined to agree.
“Look down along that pathway there,” said Thedius, pointing down a misty way.
All they could see were vague sections of pathway, scattered along. Everything else was covered by the drifting haze.
“I can’t really see anything. Just cloud.” Wren said, squinting.
“Well, there is a path there. Trust me,” Thedius vowed. “And at the end of it you’ll find the eastern face of Andin’s Shield, and then the skies of Lòr. My Vòltas will take good care of you, but they can only take you so far. They can go no further than their boundaries, you understand. Either way, it shall be farther than you would have gotten on your own, and close enough to get ahead of that dratted eclipse and, likewise, that army. I trust that sounds fair to you all, hmmm?”
They nodded, mumbled, and agreed, but none of them were happy about this. More than ever, now that the soothing incantation was nearly gone.
“Jolly good!” said Thedius, and backing up a few paces, he explained, “So, you must start from here, and take a great running jump off the path’s edge. These gliders will take care of the rest. But be careful when landing, because there is a slight possibility you might detach from a small height. So be ready for it.”
They all looked at one another stupidly, to see who’d go first.
“Oh, must I do everything.” sighed Wren, and off she dashed through the mist.
First, it was silent. No noise. They listened hard, but heard nothing. Then, not five beats later, they heard her yelling out with excitement.
“WOOO-HOOO!” she bellowed, and Pew sounded just as thrilled, if not more.
Stell and William blinked at each other, saying nothing. All of a sudden, the Elf beamed such an eager grin that they both took off, like wild horses, to try out their own Vòltas.
“Farewell, my friends!” Thedius waved. “Stay as one, and try not get into too much trouble!”
Quicker and faster the clip-clopping of their boots tore through the dense cloud. Suddenly the ledge appeared and they leapt. Into nothingness they flew; through a puff of coming cloud, which then exposed, beneath their kicking legs, the eastern slopes of Andin’s Shield, and the black, desolate void of eastern Lythiann thereafter.
A few twitters later, the Vòltas ripped the chords from their packs. Two amazing chutes of silky material flared out into the air, grasping firmly onto the coming wind, and Stell, William, and Khrum sailed their way gracefully through the night. Not far ahead, Wren was spiralling her way down, too. Pew seemed to be squeaking boldly still. But then, without warning, Icrick shot between William and the Elf with no chute open whatsoever. Like a hairy bullet, he zoomed; screeching for aid and flapping his arms wildly, as a family of whistly ones came cascading from his backside like it was going out of fashion. He was like a dodo with a rocket shoved up its bassoon. You’d swear his insides were on their way out, with the squawking that was coming out of him. Eventually his chute unfolded, seized the breeze, and carried him down into a much friendlier sway, like the others.
“Pwah!” Khrum retched, yanking his shirt up over his nose. “Smells like some aul’ shkunk granny died o’ the shquirties! Icrick, ya shcummy fiend ya!”
The Grogoch cried back, “Back off, Khrum! It can’t be helped and you know it,” and feeling a bit more relaxed, he finished of his sentence with a joyous, Weee, for himself.
Not taking into account that they were forced to coast through a fog of the foulest-smelling Grogoch gas, it was really an astonishing experience, gliding over the land like that. They may have been soaring over the darker side of Lythiann, where they say no sun could shine, yet it still looked so amazing from way up there.
The fiendish clouds streamed westward, taking on insipid linings below the moon. Sometimes those same monstrous impressions re-emerged and reached out like they were going to claw at them as they sailed by. That didn’t happen, thankfully. But they would’ve preferred them not to be there at all.
Broadening out, the further they plummeted, was a colossal chunk of land which had clearly been ripped from the soil of some different world. ‘Twas as if, unable to destroy this ominous fragment, God himself had plunged his mighty hands into the crust of a foreign land, and ripped that cancerous island of rock from its roots before placing it out of harm’s way, in a dark and idle corner of a deserted realm. This red-rocked mass was fraught with a labyrinth of gorges, stone passes, and dense wilds, and it remained alienated from all civilisation, like it was not meant for the likes of true Lythiann.
Horrified by the sight of it, Stell muttered, “The canyons of Lòr! We are here!”
Whooshing into a downward glide, the Vòltas were aiming to land upon a huge outcrop just on the outskirts of the canyon’s mainland. That’s where they would discover the dreaded Bohàr Pass. But the flight wasn’t over yet, and the last few moments were the most terrifying of all, as that quick change of trajectory made the breeze scream by all the louder, and their stomachs contort with a terrible queasiness.
“Hold on tight, Khrum.” William groaned, with the little leprechaun poking his eyes out of the sporran. “Looks like we are coming in to land!”
William watched as Wren landed into a safe tumble upon the shelf; not that he gave a damn (or so he would like it to seem).
Wren’s Vòlta engaged in a snappy turn, whereby the wind carried him back the way he came. His chute flapped noisily in the gust as he fluttered past William and Stell before dissipating into the clouds overhead. Icrick was next to board the huge shelf, and his Glider employed the very same manoeuvre. It dropped him like a sack of onions, and then flew back up to Thedius. Then came William and Stell’s turn, but something drastic took hold.
Through a swift change in wind, they flew dangerously close to one another. Something was clearly amiss. Their Vòltas kept glimpsing back and forth at each other, making discouraging noises. Arguing. Closer they drifted, zooming downwards all the while and getting ever nearer that scarlet ridge. Both chutes shot towards one particular area of ground. It was like the Vòltas couldn’t make up their minds about which of them was to deploy first.
“What’s going on up there?!” William cried, but the little sprites kept bickering.
Rushing downwards in close proximity towards that rock-solid ledge, the two comrades shrieked in fear. Either their chutes were going to get entangled, or someone was going to drop too earl
y.
William, raising his knees, tried his utmost to ready for their approach. His roaring could’ve woken the entire countryside. He was white with fear. To make matters worse, he had absolutely no control over what was happening. Just then, Stell swung in so close that he literally banged his leg off William’s arm. Thinking their canopies had gotten entwined, William looked up and, much to his relief, both chutes held strong. That chance deflection had shoved them out just enough to avoid any further collisions. William’s Vòlta then yanked sharply on his chord, making a deep, right-handed turn. An air break of sorts. This little manoeuvre proved most effective, and William regained a much safer position some metres above the Elf. Had he not felt so sick to the stomach, he would’ve bellowed with joy. Instead his eyes drooped and rolled, followed by an unsavoury burp. Nevertheless, it was a very impressive move on the Vólta’s part.
At long last, and not a moment too soon, Stell glided down towards the great shelf, where he slipped from the Glider’s harness and rolled to safety. William tumbled along behind him, before sprawling out with gasping breaths. Without so much as a wave goodbye, their Vòltas swooped back toward the mountain and, thereafter, Ebyulàn.
Bowling out of William’s sporran, only to lay flat on his back, Khrum groaned, “Aw, that was horrible! My head…it’s in bits! Sorry about your sporran too, by the way.”
“Why? What did you do?” William grumbled, holding his gut.
“Ara, jusht give it a bit of a wash later…it’ll be grand!” Khrum replied, with a distasteful puss.
“I’m not even going to ask.”
Icrick and Stell were already back on track, and getting to know their environment. Wren sat nearby, blowing bits of dust out of Pew’s fur. Unlike the others, he was as happy as a pig in muck after that little spin. Something of an audacious little thing.
As William was gathering himself, Wren smiled and said, “Oh, what’s wrong with you? No sense of adventure?”
“Whatever you say, Wren,” he muttered gruffly, having since returned to his distrustful ways.
The Other of One: Book Two Page 37