Naminee had covered almost a hundred yards when she heard an incredibly loud noise. She worried about what the crone was doing, but could not go back yet to investigate. She had to let it go. Glancing back, Naminee saw both worgs abandon their pursuit, veering away from the house in a new direction. She wouldn't give chase. Her priority was to return to help Laux and then find the young prince.
She stepped into the back yard of what had once been Tig's home and saw the boy next to Laux's body. The tension drained from her as she realized that Laux was alive. For the moment, they’d gained a reprieve.
Headed East
Colorado, West Slope
Jessie closed the door to their bedroom. "Les, the bank called again." Lester studied his wife's face. Beaten by the wind and sun and lined by hard work, he couldn't imagine a more beautiful woman.
"What did they have to say?" Lester knew that things were grim financially. They’d never been able to turn the corner after investing their life savings into the farm.
"Oh, Les. I just don't think we can hold on." Jessie was a proud woman and the words caused tears to form at the corners of her eyes. She fought to hold them back, as she knew how it would affect him. "If we sell now, we can probably get out before it’s a total loss. We need to think about the kids."
Lester stood and walked over to Jessie, gently touching her arm. "Can we make it through the winter?" He’d been expecting the conversation for a while. For whatever reason, they’d been unable to attract boarders. The ranch was dying an insidious, slow death, more painful than a quick blow, as it teased them with possibilities and illusions of hope.
"Yes, but not much past that." Jessie looked into her husband's face, drawing comfort from his quiet demeanor.
"All right, then that is what we will do. We won't tell the kids until after Amber's trip." Lester stood straighter, the weight of his decision now removed.
A knock at the door interrupted the moment between them. "Mom, have you seen Dad?" Amber's voice floated through the door. "Can I come in?"
Lester sat back on the bed. Amber's voice made him smile. He knew why she had tracked them down. Jessie responded, "Come on in, Amber. Dad's in here. We were just talking."
Amber opened the door. "Did you make the call? Is the invitation for real?"
"Sure is, kiddo." Lester's mood changed immediately. He and Jess had their problems, but Amber and Sam had bright futures.
"Can I go? Please, please, please?" She made her way across the room, sat on the bed next to her dad and wrapped her arms around him in a display of affection clearly designed to achieve success. Jessie watched with amusement. The relationship between Amber and Lester was something she cherished. A strong family was what she wanted, to heck with everything else.
Lester looked up at Jessie helplessly but grinning broadly, "What do you think, Jess?" He knew the answer but wanted to draw the moment out. His daughter’s affection had already driven away much of his dark mood and it was now just a small knot in his stomach, something to be forgotten for a while.
"Oh, I don't know," Jessie responded, playing along, her voice gilded with humor.
Amber, not moving from the bed, tilted her head playfully at her mom, "Ah mom, please!?"
"Yes, sweetheart. Dad and I talked about it and you can go. We’re very happy for you." Jessie felt pride and excitement for her daughter. Amber was a tremendous competitor and it was a huge accomplishment for her to have garnered such an exclusive invitation.
Amber jumped up from the bed, hugged her parents and then dashed from the room screaming "SAAAAAAM!" They could hear the thundering sound of her boots as she inelegantly leapt up the stairs three at a time. She was headed toward Sam's bedroom where he would likely be reading or working on his computer.
"I can't go, Jess. I have to finish the hay harvest. You’ll have to take her out by yourself." Lester's mood once again became quiet.
"Okay, Les," Jessie replied. It was disappointing, but one of the realities of running the ranch.
Over the next weeks, the Elendahls prepared for the upcoming trip. Even with their financial difficulties, Jessie pulled together enough to replace old riding gear and threadbare saddle blankets. The truck was taken in for a tune-up and Les spent time removing rust from the old horse trailer. Jessie, Amber and Samuel all had matching shirts embroidered, proudly displaying the Elendahl Ranch emblem over the left pocket. Finally, the day arrived.
Lester leaned in the window, looking at his wife behind the wheel of the old 4-door truck. "Don't push it too hard, it’ll get you there just fine." It was just talk, as Jessie knew better than anyone how to maintain the vehicle.
"We’ll call you tonight from camp." They held each other’s eyes for a moment and Jessie gave him a kiss. She fired up the old truck and put it into gear.
"Good luck, kiddo!" Lester said through the window. "Make sure you help your mom, Sam."
Jessie let her foot off the brake and started to roll away. "Love you, Les," she said quietly, knowing he’d hear her.
It would take three days to reach their destination and they'd made reservations at horse-friendly campgrounds along the way. The first night, Amber's eyes were drawn to the much nicer rigs in the campground. She’d always noticed this disparity at regional events and wasn't sure why she expected it to be different now.
Even though the trailers and trucks were nicer, work around the camps invariably stopped when Amber unloaded Wild Grey. The pride with which the Arabian carried herself and the power she exuded drew small crowds every time Amber exercised her.
Late in the afternoon of the third day, Sam announced they were within a mile of their destination. The truck was laboring its way up a hill in the Appalachian Mountains of West Virginia. The scenery was not dissimilar to what they had left in Colorado except the grass was considerably greener and the trees were mostly deciduous; hard maples and oaks - with only a few pines interspersed.
Sam had directed them down a well maintained asphalt road. As the truck crested the top of a hill, a valley stretched out below them. Wide grassy plains gave way to a ridge of mountains covered in greens, reds and golds. Mist had formed in the valley and its tendrils snaked through the lower trees. Jessie slowed, allowing all three to admire the idyllic view.
Across the valley, where the road led into the trees, stone pillars flanked the two-lane blacktop. Stretching out from the pillars, stone walls stretched into the forest on either side. A sign framed by timbers stated, "Helicon" and on the next line in smaller letters, "House of Parnassus."
"Great, you found it," Jessie said. Sam had been providing directions since they’d left the house, but Jessie hadn’t seen many signs that indicated whether or not they were on the right track.
"From what I've read, this place is huge, mom," Sam offered. "We still have fifteen miles before we reach the campgrounds."
"No kidding?" Amber asked, impressed.
"Yeah, and that's just the start of it. There isn't a lot of information available about Helicon or The House of Parnassus on the web yet, but I was able to get a topographic map and some other stuff."
"Not now, bug." Amber found Sam's information annoying most of the time. It was like he’d rather read about life than experience it firsthand. She liked to call him "bug" when he was in information-mode.
"Be nice, Amber." Jessie hoped to head off an argument. For the most part, the kids hadn't been too bad, but three days in a truck was starting to wear on them all. "Sammy, just hang on until we get to the camp. I think everyone is getting tired."
Neither Sam nor Amber really felt like getting into it, so Sam turned back to his book and Amber rolled the window down, enjoying the sixty-five degree weather of a late autumn day. The colors of the trees were unfamiliar; all sorts of reds, purples and yellows intermixed with the deep green of the pine. The blending of aromas and fresh air called to her. She couldn't imagine a more beautiful place on the face of the earth.
They continued, finally coming to a small stone cot
tage next to the road. A timber hung across the road with a stop sign mounted on it. Jess pulled to a stop and before she could get out of the truck, a small, chubby man trundled out from the cottage. His hair was white and he sported a thick white beard. Dressed in green pants, a colorful vest and a white shirt, Jessie wondered if he were dressed for some sort of play.
"Ho, there. I suppose you are here for the Faire!" The man moved with speed and grace, a little unexpected given his apparent age and girth. Jessie hopped out of the truck, eager to stretch and put her feet firmly on the ground.
"Hi! Oh … uh, yes, we are here for the competition." Jessie wasn't really sure that "faire" was correct. The man seemed nice enough. If they’d taken a wrong turn, she hoped he could at least direct them from here.
"Great. Great. You are definitely in the right place. If you would honor me with your name, then? I am Dauxal." He proffered his right hand.
Jessie reached across, taking his hand and shaking it. The hand she received wasn't the soft hand of an elder gentleman, but that of a seasoned workman. "Jessie, Amber and Sam Elendahl. Very nice to meet you, Dauxal."
"Oh, Elendahl Ranch! Wonderful to have you represented this year. You would be Jessie then. I’m looking forward to seeing you compete again." His eyes were alight with blatant flattery.
"I’m too old to compete anymore; it’s my daughter Amber who will be riding." Jessie instantly liked the older man and smiled at his feeble attempt at flirting.
"I imagine you’d like to unload. Be sure to come back and visit after you’re settled. The campground is up about half a mile. Stay right when you get to the fork in the road. Here is a map of the grounds." He handed her a couple of maps and bounded over to the other side of the timber pole, using his weight on the fulcrum to lift the gate. He strode back and said, "I am almost always here. If you have any questions, I’m at your service." With this little speech, he bowed with a flourish and returned to the cottage.
Jessie hopped back into the truck, the call of the campground too much to resist. She smiled as she reviewed her interaction with the chubby little man. It was a promising start to their visit.
This Will Pinch a Little
Iowa
Tig took in the wreckage as he looked up from Laux's body and welcomed the sight of Naminee’s beleaguered form entering the yard from the southeast. A loud noise from the battered truck drew their attention as smoke poured out from under the hood. The motor was making noises befitting a goose in distress. Naminee moved through the yard to the truck, reached in and turned off the engine. Blessed silence followed. She then walked over to the two on the ground. Looking down at her friend, she feared the worst. "How bad is it?"
A banging sound emanated from the back of the ruined trailer. Naminee swiveled defensively toward the noise and she and Tig watched a frantic goat jump from a rent in the side of the trailer, bucking and kicking in the air in annoyance.
Laux opened his eyes at the sound of his friend's voice, "Naminee, what of the witch?" Even in his weakened state he knew that danger could still be near. Tig's healing had repaired the major damage, but Laux felt like he'd been in a boxing match with a rhinoceros. Their priority was still survival.
"Sir, the crone seems to have run off. Something spooked her." Talking about the crone caused Naminee to stiffen. She was the only remaining defender. In short, they'd been exposed, barely survived and there was no backup within six hundred miles. She resolved not to let her guard down.
Without a word, Naminee strode to the dead canine, pausing to pick up Laux's dagger. Scanning the area, she caught another glint of elven steel - her small throwing dagger that hadn't found its mark in the witch. She picked it up and dusted the dagger off. She'd need every weapon they had if another attack should come.
Naminee hunched down, knees bent, and spoke in a harsh whisper, "Here is the situation. We are still in danger and must move immediately. Sir, can you move or be moved?"
Laux's eyes fluttered open again. "Mold and ticks, stop with the ‘sir’ already." His words were harsh but his tone was gentle. Laux knew that Naminee tended to get more formal under pressure. Years of infantry service had drilled the value of chain of command into both elves and their time together had forged a bond. "Yes, our young prince has restored much of my function. I should be able to walk with some assistance. Tig, would you help me to my feet?"
Tig and Laux struggled in an awkward dance that finally resulted in Laux's more or less vertical bearing. Naminee scanned the yard, still well lit by the truck's bright lights. A siren sounded not so far away. The small Iowa town where Tig lived didn't have its own police and relied on the county sheriff for law enforcement. No doubt a neighbor had called. Naminee looked in the direction of the approaching siren, "Dicey explaining all of this, maybe we should avoid the locals for tonight."
Tig looked at the truck doubtfully, still lit up like an alien spacecraft, "Are we taking that?" nodding at the vehicle.
Naminee swiveled her head toward Tig, arching her left eyebrow sharply up, chuckling as she spoke, "No, my prince, I believe you mortally wounded it." They both looked back at the truck. The fenders that had once been proudly shaped over the dual-wheel axles in the rear had been ripped back, one of them still attached but hanging precariously from the truck bed. Steam and smoke continued to roll from under the hood, albeit less rapidly than before. The right front quarter panel and part of the massive hood had been torn away exposing the front wheel and brake assembly. The windshield was completely smashed, small rivulets of safety glass littering what was left of the hood. Finally, the paint was completely shredded and the once pristine exterior looked as if it had been flipped on its side and dragged over a scree field.
"Young prince, it is time to learn a bit of elf craft." Naminee positioned herself so that she could pull one of Laux's arms over her shoulder to reduce the burden on Tig.
"Wow … well … okay, sure. Now we’re just going to need to find some elves?" Tig's voice squeaked as the air became pinched in his throat and his head felt light.
Naminee sensed the change in him and watched the overload in action. "Hold on young one, we need to leave. The sheriff is likely to be testy." She let the words sink in.
Tig's eyes cleared, his face relaxing. He had struck a momentary truce with panic.
“This way." Naminee pulled Tig and Laux toward the woods just behind the house. Tig knew the area well. The wooded area wasn't any wider than a half a mile at its widest point with a small creek running through the center.
The two of them struggled with Laux's body as he lapsed in and out of consciousness and darkness engulfed them. Tig's feet began to find only stones and logs, causing him to stumble repeatedly. Naminee’s worried voice broke the silence, "Young prince, are you injured?"
"Uh, no, not much." Tig replied, concentrating on not dropping the wounded elf. They continued and Tig was driven to one knee as his foot caught a particularly stubborn root. Laux groaned as his body was jarred.
Naminee’s voice strained with rising alarm, "Prince Tigerious, are you sure you are okay? Can you not see the path?"
"Of course I can't, it's pitch black, have you not noticed that it’s nighttime?" Tig was annoyed at the suggestion that he could somehow be doing better.
"My prince, you are an elf, surely you can see the path." Naminee's was no longer alarmed as much as confused.
"I’m no elf. There are no such things as elves!" Tig's voice was demanding, and once again, just saying it out loud helped him realize it couldn't be at all true.
Naminee, sensing the struggle within the boy, stopped their forward progress. Laux could ill afford to be dropped on the path. Carrying him single-handedly was something she could do, but it would not allow her enough flexibility to defend their group. They had gained the time and distance needed to avoid the sheriff.
"Prince Tig, if you please, would you allow me to assist you?" Naminee's voice was coaxing and gentle. She saw the boy quietly acquiesce. “Help me with La
ux." Together they lowered the injured man. "I know it is a lot to understand all at once. Please understand that if the situation weren't so dire ...” Naminee’s voice trailed off, concerned that the young one had quite a lot thrust on him tonight.
Tig's back straightened as resolve buoyed him. His voiced steadied, "Tell me. I can take it."
"I had a very different lesson in mind, but it appears that I must teach you the most basic things as well. I need you to pay attention and do as I ask. Can you do this?" Naminee’s voice was even, no coaxing or tension.
"Yes." Tig communicated his commitment to the moment. Whatever was to happen, he would face it.
"You, like Laux and me, have an ability. It is a simple ability, one that is common to our kind. I would like to show you how to use it. I need you to trust me for just a moment."
"I trust you, Naminee. I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you." Tig's voice thickened with emotion.
"Close your eyes. You will feel my hands on your face.”
"Yes." Tig answered, closing his eyes.
"Calm, my prince. Relax; it will only be a small pinch. Don't be alarmed." He felt her hand on the left side of his face, two fingers gently pulling his already closed eyelid down. Suddenly pain flashed through his cheek, or eye, he wasn't sure. He couldn't stop himself; he didn't want to stop himself. He jumped back, pushing her away with all of his might.
"What have you done?" he screamed, placing his hands on his face, his eye burning. She jumped on him, covering his mouth with her hand, blade still in her left hand, pressing her mouth next to his ear.
Lesser Prince (Guardians of Gaeland Book 1) Page 5