The Tear of Gramal

by Phillip Jones

  Lasidious lowered to one knee and bowed his head. “It has been too long since we last spoke, Priestess. Please, allow me to offer my condolences for your mother’s passing. She was a beacon of kindness.”

  Fosalia Rowaine smiled. “Your words are too true, Barramore. If only my mother could have laid her eyes upon you during her last moments. The face of her truest love would’ve given her abundant joy.”

  “You are too kind,” Lasidious responded. “But alas, my service to Helmep has kept me detained. I begged Helmep to release me from the burdens that kept me from your mother, but as you know, his will must be done.”

  “Agreed. A wretch’s service leads to a blessed life.”

  Lasidious nodded and passed his hand across Mosley’s unconscious figure.

  Intrigued, the priestess knelt next to the wolf and placed her left hand on the fur of his neck. “Barramore, what have you brought me?”

  “A full vessel.”

  Fosalia looked up, her eyes wide with disbelief. A moment later, she looked down and passed her eyes across Mosley’s body. “How could this be?”

  “There’s more,” Lasidious urged. “The beast speaks the languages of the Ancient Mystics and the Swayne Enserad. He speaks them fluently.”

  Fosalia stood and took a few steps back. “That’s impossible, Barramore. Never did you bring my mother such a vessel. How could this beast speak that which he knows not how to command?”

  Lasidious shrugged, “Perhaps you should ask him.” The Mischievous One took a step toward the priestess. “The wolf will wake soon. I did as you asked. Like the others, he knows not the way to your palace.”

  The priestess stared at Mosley for a brief period of moments before she lifted the hem of her dress and turned to leave. “Wait here.”

  Before Lasidious could object, Fosalia rushed across the foyer and passed through an archway that led to her herb room. In her absence, the god knelt next to the wolf and whispered in Mosley’s ear. “You know not the name Lasidious. You know only the name Bassorine whom you once served.” He waved his hand across the top of Mosley’s head. “Remember not our past encounters, and remember not your moments on Northern Grayham. May they be forgotten until the moment they are returned to you.”

  The Mischievous One stood as Fosalia reentered the room. After crossing the foyer, she knelt on the opposing side of Mosley. She reached into a brown, leather pouch and retrieved a pinch of dust.

  Scattering the dust across the wolf’s body, she chanted, “Ora gorme sez yalla tafoe.” As soon as the last word was spoken, the fur on Mosley’s body began to glow.

  Fosalia jumped to her feet and took a step back. She could not pull her eyes off the wolf’s coat as she addressed Lasidious. “You’re right, Barramore. His vessel is full. What can you tell me about the beast?”

  “Nothing other than I found him on Southern Grayham. He was wandering the abandoned lands of a territory known as Neutral. He had walked for many Peaks without food and water when I came upon him. He was babbling in the language of the Swayne Enserad, so I brought him directly to you.”

  “You did well, Barramore. My mother would have been as pleased as I am.” Fosalia paused, and then a look of concern appeared on her face. “No one can know of his presence here.”

  Though he knew the answer, Lasidious played the part. “Why?”

  The priestess sighed, “It has been only 30 Peaks since my mother’s passing. This beast is my first vessel. The Dragon Council has already expressed concern. They say my seasons are too few to be capable of executing the duties of High Priestess.”

  “They’d be wrong,” Lasidious rebutted. “Did you tell them that?”

  “I did.”

  “When?”

  “The morning before yesterday’s Peak. It was then when I met with the Dragon Council.”

  Lasidious nodded. “Did you demonstrate your power?”

  “I did.”

  “And was it enough?”

  “No.” Ashamed, Fosalia turned away.

  “So what happened?”

  Wiping a tear from her cheek, the priestess took a deep breath. “The Dragon Council voted that I be replaced. They said I was unworthy of my post.”

  “Yet you still stand here. How’s that possible?”

  “After hearing the council’s vote, the Source spoke in my favor. The Ancient One said he saw greatness in me. He said my heart was pure, and that alone made me worthy.”

  “Is that what it took for the council to change its vote?”

  Fosalia sniffled. “No. The council refused to change their vote. I would not be here now, but the Source’s vote superseded the others.”

  “I see.” Lasidious walked past the priestess and looked to the ceiling. “I never tire of this place.” He put his right hand to his chin and pretended to study the architecture while he thought, Why would the Mighty One interfere? Does he do it to toy with the gods? Lasidious turned and watched the priestess kneel next to Mosley. I suppose it matters not. The Ancient One’s whim can be used in my favor.

  Lasidious pulled his hand away from his chin and questioned. “Will the Dragon Council’s concern stop you from instructing this vessel? Will they be angry if they find out?”

  The priestess did not respond. Instead, she placed both hands on Mosley’s chest. She closed her brown eyes and felt the wolf’s heartbeat. A long series of moments passed before she reopened them. “He’s strong. To deny him tutelage would be unacceptable.”

  “Then you will deliver instruction?”

  Fosalia lifted from the floor and stood in front of Lasidious. “Yes, Barramore, but if word reaches the Dragon Council, they’ll ask the Source to reconsider his vote. They already believe I’m incapable of running this school in an efficient manner. The Source would never believe me capable of instructing my students while working to unleash the beast’s potential.”

  Lasidious leaned over and whispered into the priestess’ ear, “Then I’ll keep my mouth shut. I suggest you do the same.”

  Fosalia nodded. “Yes, Father.”

  The Mischievous One frowned. “I asked you never to call me that.”

  Fosalia’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I’m sorry. I simply miss you, and the wolf is asleep and cannot hear me say it.”

  Reaching forward, Lasidious placed his hand beneath her chin and lifted her head. “I miss you as well. But you must understand why you can’t call me that.”

  The priestess nodded, “I do. I won’t slip again.”

  After a soft kiss on Fosalia’s cheek, Lasidious changed the direction of the conversation. “Something tells me the wolf will learn at a rapid pace. I’ll return in 30 Peaks to check on his progress.” Lasidious vanished.

  CHAPTER 10

  Fragile Mortal Minds

  Northern Grayham

  2 Peaks Later

  X Marks Clanny and Medolas’ Location

  Near the Mountains of Tedfer

  MEDOLAS LOOKED OVER HIS SHOULDER at the daunting peaks that he and Clandestiny had descended the Peak before. He never tired of admiring the treacherous expanse of the Mountains of Tedfer. Their majesty was too awe-inspiring.

  Turning back, he smiled at Clandestiny, pushed her long, milky hair behind her ears and then looked northeast toward the city of Hydroth that they knew was waiting more than 50 Peaks from where they stood.

  “I wonder what trials lay ahead?” Medolas said as he looked toward the horizon.

  Clandestiny did not respond. Her mind was elsewhere.

  “Did you hear me, Clanny?” He stroked her cheek.

  “My conscience suffers, Meddy,” Clandestiny responded after looking up to find Medolas’ gray eyes. “I cannot comprehend why the wolf would abandon us. Did we do something ill against him?”

  Medolas smiled and then leaned down to kiss her. “Your conscience may sleep well at night. We did nothing wrong.”

  “But what if something has happened to him? Perhaps we should return to seek his whereabouts.”

&n
bsp; Medolas’ brow furrowed, and then he turned to look at the mountains. “Have you become irrational? The wolf abandoned us. We did nothing against him. We should push forward.” He grabbed Clandestiny’s hand and started walking. “Besides … where would we look? One moment, the wolf was standing beside us, and the next, he was gone … like vapor.”

  Clandestiny forced Medolas to stop. She reached up and placed her hands on either side of his face. “Do you think Mosley used his magic to leave us? Do you think he’s safe?”

  Medolas frowned. “Why must you always ask me questions that I cannot answer? How am I to know such things?”

  Annoyed, Clanny pulled her hands away and started walking with her arms crossed. The pysples on the bottom of her feet popped as they released the ice to ensure Medolas could hear her irritation.

  “Aww … come now, Clanny. Don’t fret over naught. I’m sure the wolf fares well.” Medolas closed the gap between them and pulled Clandestiny close. “I didn’t mean to cause your mind unnecessary stress.”

  A few moments of silence passed before Clandestiny softened. “I know. You’re forgiven.” She lowered her head onto Medolas’ shoulder. “I simply don’t understand. Mosley enjoyed our association, did he not?”

  “Of course, he did.”

  “Then why abandon us when I was so fond of him?”

  Despite his best effort to stop it, a large grin appeared on Medolas’ face. He started to chuckle.

  Clanny lifted her head from Medolas’ shoulder. “What could possibly be funny? This is a crisis, Meddy. Our friend is missing.”

  Medolas lifted a hand and motioned for the moments necessary to compose himself. “You’re right. I apologize.”

  Eyes glaring, Clandestiny demanded an explanation. “I asked, why do you think Mosley abandoned us? The wolf knew his companionship was desired. How could this be funny?”

  Though Medolas tried to fight it, another grin appeared. “Perhaps you smothered him like you did the other sudwals you commanded.”

  Clanny reached out and slapped Medolas’ arm. “How dare you speak such illness to me. The wolf was fond of my affections. He adored the way I stroked his back.”

  Medolas nodded. “He liked the way you scratched his ears as well.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “You fret too much.”

  Clanny grabbed Medolas by the ears and held his head steady in front of hers. “I fret as much as is necessary. Those whom I love recognize my affections are genuine.”

  Medolas was about to respond when he noticed two figures over Clanny’s left shoulder. They were traveling across the ice in the distance. He placed his right hand on the top of Clandestiny’s head and forced her to take a knee. “Get down,” he ordered.

  Confused, the Isorian female did as instructed. Her eyes followed Medolas’ finger as he pointed across the ice. The strange beings looked like nothing they had ever seen. “What are they?” Clanny whispered.

  Medolas rolled his eyes. Yet another question I cannot answer, he thought. A moment later, he responded, “I don’t know.” He moved his finger and pointed to the south. A large pack of snowhounds was stalking the beings from behind. “They’re in danger. They’ll need your help.”

  Clanny gasped. “Meddy, we must hurry, or they’ll be devoured.”

  “We may be too late.” Medolas grabbed Clandestiny’s hand and began sprinting across the ice toward the strangers.

  As Gage and Gallrum made their way across the frozen terrain, the badger tapped his cane against the ice. Despite the layers of clothing they had acquired from the town of Edsmar before they headed north through the Cave of No Return, they had been forced to use their magic to stay warm—and on top of it all, they still had no idea where they were going. Yet something was compelling the badger to push forward. His instincts were fueled by the dream he had on Luvelles, and they were telling him that they were headed in the right direction.

  Suddenly, Gallrum commanded Gage to stop. The serwin’s wings slowed the pace in which they were fluttering so he could lower to the ice. He turned and looked to the south. Gallrum’s ears perked up. “Something is coming. Be prepared.”

  Gage also looked to the south and listened. “The noise is not far off.”

  The badger lifted his cane. “I’ll shield us from whatever approaches.” As soon as Gage saw the pack of snowhounds crest the last of the undulating shelves, the badger used his power to put up a dome of force. “These beasts hunt to fill their bellies,” he said while watching the speed in which the hounds covered the terrain.

  “What magic do you think they possess?” Gallrum questioned.

  “None, let’s hope. Though I’d hate to feel the pain of their bite.”

  Gallrum moved behind Gage for protection. “Me, too.”

  The badger looked over his shoulder at the serwin. “Really? You would use me as a shield?”

  Gallrum shrugged and then gave a halfhearted grin. “Better they eat you first than me.”

  Gage turned around. “You irritate me.”

  Seeing Gage and Gallrum standing still, the pack’s growls amplified as they drew near. Once they were within striking distance, the pack leader leapt skyward, intending to come down on top of his prey. His jaws opened, but the impact against the invisible barrier slammed them shut.

  As the snowhound’s lower and upper jaw smashed together, his teeth pierced his tongue. His momentum forced the rest of his body to double over while the other hounds tried to stop, but there was no room. Their claws could not grip the ice fast enough to keep them from colliding into the wall. One behind another, they heaped together until 8 of the 13 hounds were yelping.

  Gage and Gallrum grimaced as the pack leader howled in pain. The weight of the other seven had snapped both of his front legs. Though frightened, the badger wanted to lower the dome of force to help, but to do so would only entice the other beasts to attack. He would be forced to use his magic to end them, and the thought of slaying innocent creatures was unthinkable.

  As the hounds regrouped, they threw themselves into the invisible barrier. It was not long before they learned that this approach would not work and began to circle the goswigs. Their snarls intensified as they searched for an opening.

  Eventually, one of the female hounds started to claw at the ice. She was much smaller than the rest, and she had lowered her nose to a crack in the ice where she could smell Gage and Gallrum’s scent.

  Gallrum was frantic. “What should we do?”

  “I don’t know, but we can’t hurt them.”

  “Why?” the serwin shouted.

  “Because they haven’t wronged us!” Gage replied over the top of the snarls. “They’re only doing what comes natural for them!”

  Gallrum could not believe his ears. He hollered, “Are you mad?” He pointed at the biggest of the hounds. “It wants to eat us! This may be natural for them … but it’s not natural for me!” He grabbed the hat on his head with both hands. “I don’t want to perish!”

  The badger jabbed the end of the serwin’s tail with his cane.

  “Ouch!”

  “Be quiet! I need to think!” Gage instructed as he turned his attention to the female hound. She had already dug a sizable hole into the ice, and now her left paw was reaching under the magic of the barrier. What to do, he thought. If I extend the field, her paw will be trapped. She’d be crippled.

  Soon, both of the hound’s front legs were reaching under the barrier as the hole grew.

  “She’s going to crawl under!” Gallrum shouted. “We must strike her down.”

  “No!” Gage rebutted. “I won’t take an innocent life!”

  “Then we’ll perish!”

  Gage thought for a moment. “Perhaps we should teleport away from here and begin our trek again.”

  Before Gallrum could respond, a deafening sound erupted from more than 100 paces southwest of their position. It was loud—so loud that the goswigs had to cover their ears to stop the pain.

  Instantly, the hounds stopp
ed attacking. The 12 who could still run escaped to the north, yelping as they darted across the terrain.

  Medolas kept his hands over his ears until Clandestiny finished her roar. She had perfected the call of the gashtion over the last 300 seasons, and Medolas grinned as he watched the snowhounds run away. “Be off with you!” he shouted.

  Clandestiny grabbed Medolas’ elbow. “There’s only one left, Meddy … and it appears wounded.”

  Reaching down to his ankle, Medolas unsheathed his knife. “I’ll handle that one. Your job is complete.” He started to run toward the crippled hound.

  Clandestiny called after him. “Wait, Meddy! You didn’t tell me if I sounded like the real gashtion.”

  Medolas stopped running and turned around. “Must you always ask me that? Do your eyes not see the result? Are there any hounds here?”

  Clanny crossed her arms in a huff. “Well, you don’t have to be so ill-mannered about it!”

  The Isorian male rolled his eyes and then headed for the hound.

  Dropping her arms to her side, Clandestiny barked, “Errrrr, that man!”

  Medolas stopped about five paces from the hound. Seeing that the wolf was whimpering and both of the pack leader’s legs were snapped, he realized there was no threat. The Isorian took a moment to study the goswigs who had already removed their invisible barrier and took a step back. “What are you?” he questioned. “You wear clothes like men.”

  Gage knew the blue being was speaking in a different language, but for whatever reason, he understood it. Without responding to Medolas, the badger turned and looked at Gallrum. “Did you also understand it?”

  The serwin nodded. “I did, but I don’t know how.”

  Before Gage could respond, Medolas demanded, “I asked, what are you?”

  The badger tapped the end of his cane on the ice and then pointed it at Medolas. “Perhaps we should be asking you the same, blue being.”