Intricate strings of lights ran from one tree to another at different heights. Sam spotted a well-worn path leading toward the mysterious forest village. Keeping his hold on Amber and Tig, Sam sped down the path. If they were lucky, they would have a few moments to stop and ask for help.
One moment the group was entering the village and the next, a huge weight dragged at their bodies. Their momentum flung them into the air and then a force whipped them back the way they had come. The three separated and changed to solid form as Sam lost his grip. A huge net surrounded them. Sam, Tig and Amber rolled to a stop completely entangled within the thick strands.
“Do not move!” a woman’s surly voice commanded.
Now that Tig was once again solid, the knife wound on his forearm bled profusely. He attempted to bring his other hand around to put pressure on the wound but was unable to move through the webbing of the net. His action drew unwanted attention and he felt the sharp thwack of a wooden staff across his back, forcing the air from his lungs.
Sam cried out, “Let us go! We are being chased by a psycho!”
“Whoever was following you has ceased. Now hold still!” The woman’s voice had a hard edge. “Perhaps we should dispatch you and do his business for him. We’ve no interest in your troubles and you have no business bringing them here.”
Rough hands pushed and prodded the three of them as the net was unraveled from the pile that was Tig, Sam and Amber. Four people stood in a semi-circle around them. Each was clad in a green and brown jerkin and trousers and held a sturdy wooden staff. As a group, they were short, like many of the people they had met since arriving at Helicon. Their skin complexion was dark brown and rugged.
The night air was below freezing and Amber’s feet were bleeding. A cold wind blew and she shivered. Tig scanned the forest looking for any sign of pursuit. He saw numerous small animals but there was no sign of Finias.
“They are but children, Tempra, and they are unarmed,” a soft voice said. It belonged to a small, middle-aged woman. Her hair was pale and she had a slight build, although she held a long wooden staff in her hand. “See how they are dressed. They certainly aren’t here to raid the enclave.”
Anger showed on Tempra's face. Her short-cropped red hair stood out vividly against the white of the snow. “Keena, their problems are not ours. It’s our duty to protect the enclave.” She pointed at Amber. “Look at her jacket, do you see that? They are bandits.” Tempra drew back her long sturdy staff, ready to punish.
Tig’s mind raced as he realized that the Parnassus crest emblazoned on the jacket had drawn the woman’s attention. His arm throbbed with pain as the deep wound continued to seep. Circumstances had conspired against him once again. Anger welled up within him, “No! The jacket is mine and we’re not bandits! If you have a quarrel with the House of Parnassus then you have it with me, not her!” Tig was surprised by the force of his own words. “If you will not help us, then at least let us go. We’re in no shape to stand here!”
The older woman, Keena, placed her hand on Tempra’s shoulder, who shrugged it off. Keena spoke calmly, ignoring Tempra’s hostility, “You speak the truth, young one. You are not dressed for cold and you are wounded. It will not be said of the Elves of the Glade that we are inhospitable. Give me your word that you will not bring harm to our home.”
Tempra seethed, “Keena, it’s a trick! They’re infiltrators, they cannot be trusted!”
Keena responded, “You will have a chance to voice your thoughts to the Captain. This boy, however, is an elf and if he speaks his bond, then we will offer them quarter. I cannot allow children to be harmed by our distrust and inaction.”
Tig regarded the older woman, anger dissipating as quickly as it had risen. “Thank you. I give you my word.”
Keena addressed her small group, “Tempra, see to it that the nets are restored. The one who gave chase might still be near. There is much we don’t know and we cannot afford to lower our defenses. Geoff, find the Captain and have him join us at the hospice. Aelix, we will escort our guests.”
Tempra opened her mouth to argue, but Keena stood her ground, “You have your instructions, Tempra.”
While they had been in their ghostly form, Amber had been neither cold nor warm, as if feeling had been suspended. Now solid, she no longer had any sensation in her feet and legs for a different reason. Her bare feet were bright red and cracked. She stumbled forward, attempting to walk. It was all she could do to keep from falling.
Tig moved beside her to help steady her. He felt awkward, chivalry colliding with closeness. Amber's beauty had not escaped him, but he'd pushed it out of his mind. No girl had ever paid him the slightest attention, especially not one who was older by at least a year. She rested her arm across his shoulder to steady herself; the warmth of her closeness momentarily distracting him. “Can you walk?” He was uncomfortable with his face so close to hers.
“I don’t think so; I can’t feel my feet or legs.” Her voice had a slight edge of panic.
“Sam, help. Amber’s legs aren’t working,” Tig requested.
Sam had already started after Keena, unaware of his sister’s disability. He turned at once and hurried back to support her other side. This drew Keena’s attention. “It is not far. She may have the Bite of Winter on her legs, but our healers will help.”
Despite stress and worry hovering like a cloud, the three newcomers found it impossible to think of anything except the small village in which they walked. The enclave was literally built among the trees. Charming chalets were constructed around the massive tree trunks, twisting and turning to conform to the pattern of the branches available for support. The buildings close to the ground were large and sprawling, as the limbs were strong and generously spaced. Higher up, as the trunks narrowed, the houses became tall and slender, rooms spiraling the tree like a staircase.
Bridges made of wide wooden treads and heavy braided ropes swayed from one structure to another, a few close enough to the ground to provide entry. Ropes of small twinkling lights were strung through the trees, giving the area above the village a hazy dome of light. There was color everywhere, yet everything blended masterfully into the surrounding forest. The roofs were all red clay with deep overhangs and softened by moss and ivy. Flashes of red, blond and sable could be seen in the wood that was used to craft the siding, balcony rails and support posts. Yellow window boxes sat below many windows with cascading sprays of white or purple flowers.
Light poured out from diamond-paned windows, illuminating families going about their evening business. The group made their way along the well-traveled path, Tig and Sam struggling to carry Amber’s weight. It was a relief when Keena turned and approached a tree house which had a first level no more than fifteen feet off the ground.
She led the group up a set of stairs to a platform. Before they reached it, a wide barn-styled door swung open. A matronly woman stood in the doorway waiting impatiently for them to enter.
“Oh my dears, what has brought you to us in such poor shape?” The woman’s ruddy face blanched. “Place the girl on the table and be careful, she has the Bite of Winter on those feet. Jeatre, quickly, bring the bite bags.”
Amber felt the heat from the house warm her face, but her legs and hands felt like they were on fire. There was still no feeling in her feet and this frightened her more than the pain.
“Oh my, let me look at that arm!" She moved from Amber to Tig. "My goodness, this is just awful,” she clucked, ripping the sleeve from his shirt in a single motion. Her eye caught Tig’s surprised expression. “Oh yes, everyone underestimates Marmy. Sit back my little man, I’ll fix you right up.” She poured water into a basin and sponged at the deep wound, trying to clean it. “Jeatre! Where are my bite bags?”
A young man climbed down from a hole in the ceiling pulling a package along beside him. “I have them here, Marmy.”
He made his way to Amber and massaged the skin on her legs, trying to help restore circulation. Jeatre lifted Amber
’s legs one at a time and slipped a soft, tall leather boot on each one. “I don’t know if we’ll be in time to save your feet or not.”
This caught Amber’s attention, “What? What do you mean?”
Jeatre responded, “I am sorry, I spoke out of turn. The bags will help your legs return to their correct temperature slowly with minimum damage, but your feet have been badly hurt by the cold. Blood that has turned to ice will cause damage, but there is no reason to worry about the worst case.”
Amber looked at the small man in horror, not sure how to respond.
He continued, “Don’t think of it. Marmy is the finest healer in all of Gaeland. If it’s possible to help you, she will.” Jeatre connected small tubes from an enclosure in the wall to the bags wrapped around Amber’s legs. Cool liquid filled the bags and much of the fire in her legs dissipated, helping her to calm down.
Marmy caught Amber's eye, and said soothingly, “Do not fret, love, we’ll take good care of you.” She turned her attention back to Tig’s wound, blood freely flowing again. She placed her hands on the wound and a faint green glow radiated out from between her fingers. The bleeding slowed but did not stop. Marmy gasped, “Where did you receive this wound!? This is from a demon blade. I cannot close it.”
The door opened and a man entered, surveyed the room and without a word motioned for Keena to follow him outside. Tig could hear several people talking calmly just beyond the door, but was unable to make out their words.
“They’re talking with the Captain,” Marmy whispered to Tig just as the man re-entered the room. The Captain looked familiar, but Tig couldn’t imagine why.
“And who do we have here?” The Captain’s voice was calm and relaxed.
Tig jumped down to a standing position. He had correctly guessed that “captain” meant Captain of the Guard and that their disposition in the enclave would most likely be up to this man. He ignored his wounded arm for a moment and offered his right hand, “I am Prince Tigerious Parnassus of the House of Parnassus. My friends and I are grateful for your aid in our time of need.”
Marmy gasped and put her hand to her mouth. The Captain stared at Tig’s outstretched hand, not moving a muscle. Awkward moments passed. Finally, the man looked back into Tig’s face. “For two centuries Gaeland has not seen a Parnassus, son. I’ll pretend you did not just say that and give you another chance. Who are you? I warn you to be mindful of your answer.”
Tig stood his ground, “I need no answer other than the truth. I am Prince Tigerious Parnassus son of Chey and Celia Parnassus of the House of Parnassus. These are my friends, Amber and Samuel Elendahl. ”
“Parnassus and Elendahl? I have no quarrel with you, but what you say is difficult to accept.” He grasped Tig’s hand and shook it, “I am Drenaux, Captain of the Guard here in the elven Glade.” With a slight bow he continued, “Prince Tigerious, Samuel, Amber, I am honored to meet you all.”
Drenaux turned to the slack-jawed Marmy, “Keena said something about a demon blade wound?”
The mention of the wound helped Marmy refocus, “Yes, I felt it deep in his arm.” She held Tig’s arm up so that Drenaux could see it.
“You’re related to Laux, and -- and to Dauxal!” Tig interrupted Drenaux’s inspection of the wound.
“How do you know those names?” Drenaux asked, his attention riveted on Tig.
“Laux is my friend. He and Naminee saved me from a witch. As for Dauxal, he is Laux’s father and they both live at Helicon,” Tig replied.
“That is impossible; they left this world nearly two hundred years ago. How could someone so young know of them?” Suspicion clouded Drenaux’s face.
“Yes! We’re from that world. We came through a portal just today. My wound is from a man calling himself Finias Blackhall. In short, he made a portal from our world to yours and then tried to kill us after we went through it. That’s who we’re running from,” Tig explained.
Shock was evident on Drenaux’s face, “Blackhall? In Gaeland? This is ill news. Please excuse me, I must go now. I’ll be back, Marmy. Take good care of our young friends here. I must report this to Elder Triest. I am sure she’ll want to visit with them come daybreak.” Drenaux turned and exited the hospice room.
Sam looked at Tig and said ironically, “At least they’re happy to see us …”
Amber, who had been quiet up to this point, groaned with pain. “My legs are killing me and I can’t feel my feet.”
Marmy looked worriedly at Amber while she wrapped a long bandage around Tig’s arm. “Your wound is beyond my ability to repair. Keep it wrapped and your body will heal around it mostly. I am afraid the wound will follow you for quite some time, although it shouldn’t be fatal.”
She then moved next to Amber who was still lying on a padded table with the inflated boots over her legs and stroked Amber’s hair comfortingly, “I am sorry dear. The Bite of Winter is an awful thing. It is time now to sleep. Let’s give your body some time to heal.” A faint green glow emanated from her hands again, this time as she stroked Amber’s hair. Amber’s eyes fluttered and then closed as she nodded off to sleep. Marmy pulled a soft blanket from a cupboard and gently wrapped it around her patient.
Marmy uttered a few words that neither boy recognized. A hole appeared in the ceiling and Amber’s bed slowly levitated up through it, leaving the leg supports behind. Once she and the bed had cleared the ceiling, it closed and the supports descended into the floor.
Sam looked at her, “What have you done with my sister?”
Marmy’s response was surprised, “We can’t very well have her in the welcoming room all night. She needs her rest. Here, put these robes on and follow me up the ladder.” Marmy took two thick white gowns from a shelf and tossed them at Tig. She then disappeared up the ladder quicker than either boy could have imagined.
Sam and Tig exchanged glances, but in the end practicality won out. They removed their badly stained dress clothes. Sam was glad that Madam Thimblespite wasn’t here to see what they had done to her fine outfits. He could almost feel the thwack of her ruler.
Tig was first to climb the ladder, closely followed by Sam. They entered a room that extended around the trunk of the tree. Bunks were stacked two high against the outer walls, reaching inward like spokes of a bicycle. Amber’s prone figure was sleeping comfortably on top of one of the bunks.
The room was warm and lights glowed from small globes hanging in the air next to the bunks. Sam ran his hand around one of the globes trying to figure out what held it up, but was unable to find anything.
Marmy noticed his quizzical expression. “Oh love, that’s just a Faerie-Globe, it’ll cause you no harm. You can douse it by placing your hand on it and telling it what you wish.” Sam raised an eyebrow but decided to try what she instructed. He grabbed the Faerie-Globe firmly and pushed until it moved. When he pulled back his hand, the globe stayed where he had placed it.
“No love, just place your hand on it. There is no need to move it about. Remember to tell it what you need it to do and Faerie will take care of the rest,” Marmy instructed patiently.
This time Sam gently placed his hand on the globe and said, “Please turn off.” And it did.
Tig, who had been watching Sam with rapt attention, placed his hand on an unlit globe. “Light, please.” The small globe lit up. He and Sam exchanged glances and then giggled like schoolgirls.
It didn’t take much coaxing from Marmy to get them into soft warm beds, and sleep found them just as easily.
Rescue Party
The Crux, West Virginia
Jessie watched Amber successfully block Finias Blackhall’s vicious strike at Tig. She wanted to run for help, but knew it would be too late. She hated herself for allowing Amber to go through the portal alone, but neither of them could stand by and watch Blackhall murder Tig or Sam.
She nervously paced from one end of the frame to the other, giving herself a nearly complete view of the meadow. When Sam and Amber suddenly turned into puffs of smoke,
Jessie almost passed out. A moment later, a ghostly figure, barely recognizable as Sam, rushed to Tig’s side. As soon as Sam grabbed Tig, his form changed and he, too, became translucent. Both kids shot into the trees. Until that point, Jessie hadn’t believed there was anything left that could surprise her, but she was having trouble making sense of what she’d just seen.
Jessie stood for several minutes after Sam and Tig disappeared, trying to catch sight of them one more time. Thank goodness Sam was still alive. She consoled herself, knowing the kids had at least found a way to escape the attack. What she’d seen tonight had to be some sort of magic. Hopefully, someone back at the Castle could help her make sense of it all.
A quick search of the Humvee and she located the keys stuffed above the visor. The Humvee had been equipped with a GPS unit in the dashboard which powered up when the car started. Without Sam navigating, she wasn’t sure how to return to the castle. She poked the glass display where a red box had conveniently appeared with the question, “Where to?”
As soon as her finger hit the screen, a disembodied Australian voice intoned, “Please select destination.” A list appeared. Jessie selected the ‘Main Residence’ option and heard the car complain, “Recalculating.”
Heading for the only way out, Jessie stepped on the gas and whipped the vehicle around the clearing. The map on the GPS screen showed her position as a blip, well off any known road. Jesse shot down the drive, following the path of newly dumped gravel. Halfway down the road, the Humvee's lights illuminated a truck parked across the road. They'd been sloppy however, and it wouldn't be difficult to drive the Humvee around the back side. She had no intention of being stopped at this point. Her children’s lives were at risk. She gunned the engine and the wheels of the off-road vehicle bit into the thick roadbed.
Jessie thought she heard shouts, but her attention was focused on getting the bouncing vehicle back onto the road. When she finally approached the highway, the Australian instructed her to turn right. Just as she turned onto the highway she saw someone walking in the opposite direction. Recognizing Ardt Fenhall, she turned around and pulled up beside him.
Lesser Prince (Guardians of Gaeland Book 1) Page 15