"Quiet, Prince. You will alert the sheriff." The pain diminished as he looked wildly up into the eyes of his attacker. It was impossible to focus; bright lights were exploding all around. He brought his hands up to shield his eyes. "Please don't scream and I will release you, can you do this?"
Tig nodded. As he did, she removed her hands. Tig, annoyed, whispered loudly, "What have you done to me!"
"I told you it was going to pinch!" she replied.
"Are you crazy? It felt like you stabbed me!" he retorted.
"This wouldn’t be necessary if someone had worked with you when you were younger. It is not complete and we can't stop halfway."
"No freaking way! You cut me and it hurts, you freaking nutcase." He’d had enough - way too much - and now the woman he trusted … oh, correction … the ELF he trusted, had jabbed a knife in his face. If he wanted this type of abuse, he could just go to school tomorrow. Junior High was all about torture; maybe he would just go spit on Johnnie Whipple's shoes. Yeah, that would at least bring him a moment of enjoyment.
She chuckled.
"Did you seriously just laugh at me? Are you freaking kidding me? What do you think is so blasted funny? Geez-oh-Pete!" Tig could hear himself ranting, eyes still closed, the pain mostly gone. As he opened them his head swam, lights exploding again. He slammed his eyes shut. "I can't see!" Panic edged his voice.
"My prince, you must let me finish, it is the only way. You will be unable to see at all if I don't." Her voice was serious. Precious moments ticked by as Tig wrestled with her words.
"Seriously? Is it going to hurt like the first one?"
"Yes. I would expect so." Her reply did little to put his mind at rest. Tig considered that there might be such a thing as too honest. Without another word, Tig gave in, sat up, and faced Naminee, his eyes still closed. True to her word, the pain was just as intense - he wanted to scream. It crossed his mind that this was ridiculous.
"Open your eyes, Prince." Her voice was calm, reassuring. Tig opened his eyes expecting to see explosions of light. As his eyes focused, Tig realized that he could see much more than just Naminee. He also saw the nearby trees and for that matter, layers of trees behind them. It was as if it were daylight. No, it was different than that. He saw darkness, but also the richness of the colors around him. Everything had a deeper hue. It was fantastic, beautiful even, like it had been painted in artist's oils.
"This is really intense ... everything is so beautiful. What did you do? How did you do it?" Tig's voice was filled with wonder.
"Yes, I too love the night. I will try to explain as we go. Please, we must get underway – we've lost valuable time. Soon men will be searching the area and we cannot afford to be detained." She jumped to her feet, extending her hand to the awestruck youth. Tig didn't need any convincing. Perhaps the night hadn’t been a total loss.
After crossing the dry creek, the small party exited into a cornfield. It was late fall and the corn had already been harvested, leaving the short, corn-stalk stubble behind. She spoke quietly, "From here we will head south to the road. But, first I need to obscure our path." She chanted unintelligibly and pushed her hands back towards where they had just exited the woods. A wind rushed from behind them drawing leaves and small twigs along as it blew.
It was a half mile to the gravel road leading into town. Tig had often ridden his bike to the bridge where the creek ran underneath. It was a great place to catch frogs. He saw the frogs now, sitting on the bank, their forms slightly illuminated in the dark as if they had been dipped in some phosphorous liquid. He whispered, "Why are the frogs glowing?"
"It is just your elven sight. Did you not see the deer as we entered the field?" she whispered back.
It was like riding in the car with his Dad, "Look there, Tig. Don't you see the fox?" Chey would ask, but Tig was always too late to see it. Tig felt a small rush of annoyance, but pushed it away. He scanned the field and then looked back into the woods. No deer, but as Tig shifted his gaze upward, he nearly fell as he spotted an owl sitting no more than thirty feet from them, perched in a tree. The owl returned his gaze.
"Prince, it will be too conspicuous if all three of us trundle into town. You must stay here, near the bridge with Laux. I will find us a mode of transportation. We also need to cover our tracks again. Were you able to learn my simple spell? You need to say it slowly and direct the wind with your hands." She pulled the semi-conscious Laux away from Tig, allowing Tig the use of his hands.
"I don't remember the words you used, they’re so weird."
"Plento swanum is the phrase. It uses the ancient word for ‘wind.’ When you say it, concentrate on the wind covering our path; focus the wind with your hands. Think about the path we just traveled and how it will be covered."
Tig looked dubiously at the path and then at his hands, rubbing them on his jeans for no particular reason. His first attempt was awkward. "Plento swanam," he said, waving his hands at the path. A couple of seconds later a small breeze ruffled the leaves in his general area.
She chuckled, "No, young prince, swaNUM. You must carefully pronounce it and focus on the wind. It is alive and will heed your call. Believe in yourself. You can do this."
Tig again focused on the path, trying to consider her advice. "PLENTO SWANUM," this time in a louder, more commanding voice, drawing his arms forward and trying to focus on the path they had traveled. From behind them a great wind whipped, tearing at their clothes, buffeting them. Leaves, cornstalks, grass and dust flew into the air, stinging Tig's eyes. Dust devils spooled up as the wind ripped along the path. Tig dropped his arms, startled at the response.
She raised an eyebrow, giving the youth an appraising look, "That should do it, but maybe next time we should tone it down." She moved Laux over to the bridge and helped her friend to a seated position in the shadows beneath its cover.
Tig saw the outline of a few field mice as they scurried around, searching for food. The bank of the small creek was alive with nighttime activity.
Wordlessly, Naminee reached behind her back, withdrew a dagger and handed it to Tig. She then turned and pulled a few bowling ball sized rocks over next to Laux's resting form. Placing her hands on the small pile of rocks, she chanted, "Mizzie foci trunda," repeating the phrase twice more. Tig felt heat rise from the rocks and they glowed in his new-found vision.
"I am not sure that is a good one for you to experiment with. Stay with Laux and I will find transportation.” She studied the young prince's face. Apparently satisfied with what she saw, Naminee quietly bounded up the side of the bank and was off.
For a few moments, Tig sat under the bridge enjoying the warmth of the rocks. Laux seemed to be comfortable, if not completely conscious. Half an hour later the rocks had lost much of their warmth and Tig felt jittery as the adrenaline drained from his system. So many things had happened today. His mind jumped back to algebra class, how far away it now seemed.
Tig wished he could remember what Naminee had chanted to bring heat to the rocks. He wanted to experiment, to see what he could do with these new-found abilities. He focused his thoughts down the creek pushing his hands forward and saying, "plento swanum," this time nowhere near as forcefully as before. A small breeze moved along the path. He spoke the words again, this time more forcefully, and as he expected, a stronger breeze followed the same path. So there he sat, repeating the same chant over and over again, turning, like an oscillating fan, chuckling to himself.
He almost didn't hear the car pull up on the bridge over his head, but fortunately the tires crunched loudly on the gravel as it ground to a halt. Tig froze. Had someone seen what he was doing? Why had he not been more careful? A car door opened and closed, but the vehicle was still running. He strained his ears, trying to hear approaching footsteps.
Without warning, a figure fell from the bridge onto the bank. Tig scrambled, reaching for the dagger that he had carelessly left out of reach. Instead of tumbling down the bank, the figure landed quietly on her feet, even thou
gh the fall had been ten feet or better.
Naminee's voice broke the tension, "I have a car. Let’s go." She gently lifted Laux's resting body back to a vertical position, pulling his arm over her shoulder and grabbing his waist. She then deftly moved up the bank's sharp angle as if she were walking alone across an even road. Tig trailed behind, showing nowhere near the same agility. By the time he was on the bridge, Naminee had laid Laux's body in the back seat of a large sedan.
She opened the driver's side door as Tig reached the passenger's side, "Want to drive?" Naminee didn't wait for his response as she sat down behind the steering wheel.
Tig opened the door and slid in. "Very funny."
***
Tig opened his eyes to the bright sun's glare shining through the windshield. "Where are we? What time is it?"
"Good morning, Prince Tigerious. We are on our way to meet up with your father in West Virginia. I have been in communication with Princess Gelasius and they’ve made it to Helicon safely."
"What’s Helicon?" Tig didn't feel like he could have been asleep for more than a couple of hours although he was both hungry and thirsty and in bad need of a rest stop.
"It’s the home of the House of Parnassus. A more beautiful place on this earth you will not find."
Tig moved his legs uncomfortably, "Any chance we could stop soon? I really have to go."
"Certainly, but perhaps you should clean up first, there are wipes in the bag on the floor. Use the mirror on your visor." Tig pulled the visor down and saw streaks of blood and grime on his face. She continued, "There is also a fresh t-shirt in the bag."
Tig pulled out a black shirt stamped with the yellow mascot of a favorite Iowa college. He had no interest in sports, but could not help but recognize the popular hawk-shaped logo. The shirt he’d been wearing was a tattered mess and no amount of repair would make it presentable. The new shirt was itchy, having never been washed, but he was glad to have it. Amused, Tig opened the box of wipes, identifiable by the cherubic baby on the cover and the perfumed soap smell. Fortunately, they worked and his face was clean enough to not draw attention.
They stopped along the interstate. Naminee filled the vehicle with gas and Tig located the restroom. When he got back to the car, Tig noticed that Laux was sitting up. He looked dazed, with his tattered green shirt hanging around his neck and his hair sticking up at odd angles. Tig hopped into the front seat and turned around to face Laux. "How are you feeling?"
Laux looked at him and then around the car, confusion evident in his eyes, "Been better."
"Been worse too, my friend." Naminee offered from outside the vehicle. "We’re happy to see you’ve decided to rejoin us. Do you need anything?"
Laux considered this for a moment, clearly not able to form a complete thought.
She continued, "Our situation is that we are safe and headed to Helicon. As far as I know, we are not being pursued. This would be a good place to relieve yourself while we pick up supplies, but at the moment you’re not presentable enough to be seen in public. Prince Tig, would you help Laux? There are more shirts in the bag."
Tig grabbed the duffel and moved to the back seat. He carefully removed the tattered remains of Laux's shirt, and then smiled as he used the baby wipes to clean up the elf's disheveled face. Tig tried wiping the blond hair down, but for some reason it wouldn't lay flat, poking out at odd angles. "It's an improvement, but you still look rough."
Naminee parked by the attached diner and went inside. In those few moments she was gone, Laux's condition improved considerably; he was walking on his own and able to successfully navigate the restroom. Tig tore into the food that Naminee brought back to the car. He was hungry beyond anything he could remember. After gorging himself on sweet rolls, orange juice and beef jerky he lay back and fell asleep again.
The sun was low in the southwestern sky when Tig finally awoke.
"There you are - I was hoping you hadn't joined your ancestors." Naminee’s voice was light with humor. He had only known her for less than a day, but already considered her to be family. She continued, "We’re not far now. We just passed through Columbus, Ohio, and should reach Helicon within four or five hours."
Tig turned around in his seat to inspect Laux. The elf was curled up tightly, but otherwise sleeping peacefully. He turned back to Naminee, "Can you make it? Aren’t you exhausted?"
The concern in his voice caused her to smile, "Ah, my young prince, not to worry. This is much easier duty than the long watches I once endured." Her eyes gained a far off look, "There was a time when the House of Parnassus was besieged, in a land far from here. I remember holding watch for nearly a week without rest. It was a dark time. Today, I have the honor of returning one of the Princes of Parnassus to our home. What a grand day it is!" Her attitude was infectious. Tig grinned broadly, excited to see what lay ahead.
Several hours later, well after sundown, the car pulled up to a cottage on a quiet asphalt road where a timber gate blocked the road. A chubby white haired elf, dressed in green pants and a colorful vest bounded out of the door towards the car. A broad smile broke on his face as his eyes met the driver's. "Naminee, I was worried!" Then, a shadow crossed his face as he looked across the car finding Tig in the passenger's seat. "Has something happened to Laux?"
Anticipating the greeting, Naminee exited the car and embraced the older man. "Laux is well, Dauxal. He is sleeping off our adventure." The older man released Naminee and opened the back door. Laux, having heard the commotion, had started to stir and was attempting to bring himself to a seated position. Apparently Laux wasn’t moving fast enough for the old man, who climbed into the seat and drew the injured man into a bear hug.
"Uhh." Laux's breath was forced from his body. "Father, not so hard, you will do me in."
Dauxal pulled back and wiped a small tear from his cheek, "I worry so. Strange and evil things are about. I am happy you have both returned." With that, he hopped back out of the car. "Princess Gela sent word and needs you all up at the main residence. It is urgent."
"Thank you, Father. I will find you later this evening, once I have cleared my responsibilities." Father and son broke eye contact. Dauxal returned to his normal cheery disposition, clapping Naminee on the back. "Thank you for bringing my boy home! Let me grab the gate." Dauxal looked through the car at Tig, "Welcome to Helicon, young prince. We are mighty happy to have you!" He bounded over to lift the gate arm, clearing the road for passage.
A Good View
West Virginia
The Elendahls started to climb back into the hills. The road was completely in shadow as the sun was once again losing its battle with the sky. Only a small part of the meadow to the east was still the benefactor of its brilliant light. The mist thickened around them. Jessie couldn't imagine a more beautiful setting.
At the road's fork, a well-maintained sign anchored by log-pole timbers, clearly stated ‘Equestrians: right’ and ‘Faire Grounds: left.’ The mist had yet to overtake the thick covering of trees lining both sides of the road, adding a soft, if not surreal touch. The trees gave way to a clearing and the asphalt turned to gravel. Jessie counted at least fifteen rigs already parked in a lot that could easily hold twice that.
To the right was a barn. Although, to call it a barn was to call the White House a home. The building was spectacular on the outside - Amber could only guess what was on the inside. Made of massive timbers and stained a beautiful deep golden brown, its scale was incredible. The center peak, supported by a single, gigantic timber, soared up sixty feet, the building spanned one hundred fifty feet across and seventy-five feet deep. Beautifully manicured paths led from the building out to the parking area, around the entire perimeter and into the mountainside.
"Incredible," was about all Jessie could muster. She brought the truck to a complete stop, still on the road, unwilling to commit to the parking lot just yet.
Amber was equally impressed. "The barn is so big. Look at all of the trails. Sam, look!"
Sam d
idn't have much to say. He already knew from reading the map that this was the Equestrian Center. He also knew that there were paths radiating out from this location, going virtually in every direction. Sam saw they were roughly one point five miles from the chubby man's shack - not the half mile he’d suggested - and that the wide path leading west out of the parking lot would take them to the Faire grounds, whatever those were.
Why his entire family got so excited about barns was completely beyond him. He sensed that Amber was getting a little antsy; he could hear it in her voice and he could help with that. "Wow, that’s a lot of gravel," Sam threw in, trying to suppress a smile.
"Dumb Butt. Look at that barn, will ya? It's amazing," She turned in her seat as she spoke, reached into the back and started wrestling her younger brother.
"Is that Fenhall's rig?" Jessie wondered out loud.
Amber spun and looked where her mom pointed. "No way, that can't be." Her voice carried disbelief, disappointment and recognition.
"I think I see Jax walking over to their truck. Yeah, that's him. Wow, he must have had some ride on that new horse." Jessie knew from experience that Ardt Fenhall, the boy who’d been thrown from his horse earlier this year, was a good rider, but it surprised her that he would get an invite to a national qualifier.
"Crap, why does he have to be here?" Amber asked.
"Leave it alone, it will work out just fine." Jessie needed to stop the attitude spiral. It had been a long three days and they had a lot of work yet to do tonight. Before she started moving again, a young man in jeans and a short-sleeved, collared green shirt walked purposefully from the barn to their truck. His hair was a very light brown and his skin was well tanned. While he wasn't very tall, he was clearly in tremendous physical shape and quickly traversed the distance between the barn and the truck.
Amber rolled down the window as he approached her side and Sam grinned when his older sister instinctively ran her hands through her hair. He considered saying something, but with the window open, thought better of it.
Lesser Prince (Guardians of Gaeland Book 1) Page 6