The Guided Journey (Book 6)

by Jeffrey Quyle

  He felt the energy blossom within him. He kept his eyes shut, so that he would not be distracted by the sight of the fangs and fur and claws that approached him. He focused on the friendship that he wanted to hold with the yeti. He would protect it and feed it and care for it. When it became wounded he would treat it and comfort it.

  The energy of friendship emanated from him in a steady pulse of power, and it radiated outward. He could feel it spreading, and then he felt it touch the yeti. The creature was instantly suffused with love and devotion, and he felt the yeti return the feeling towards him. It placed its paws upon his hands, and when they made contact he felt a wave of intense loyalty spring outward from the touch.

  Kestrel opened his eyes and looked at the yeti. He was holding hands with a yeti! It was an astonishing, incomprehensible experience. He felt himself cease to release the energy, as the task of establishing friendship was completed.

  “Are you ready to come up here? I’m going to pitch our camp here tonight,” he called over his shoulder to Hampus.

  “Is it safe up there?” the elf in the crevasse asked.

  Kestrel broke the contact with the yeti and pointed to a spot several yards away. “I want you to go over there and wait for me,” he told the animal.

  Without hesitation, the yeti obeyed him.

  “Come on up,” Kestrel yelled down. He heard a scrabbling noise, then an oath. A moment later there was more scrabbling, before a hand appeared at the edge of the crevasse. “I need some help,” Hampus called.

  Kestrel winced as he lifted Hampus up. “I thought you climbed mighty mountains,” he said. He hadn’t tried to bait the princess’s betrothed in quite a while, but the temptation was too great.

  “The monster is still here!” Hampus shrieked.

  “He’s not going to hurt you. He and I have made peace; he’s a friend,” Kestrel spoke as he kept a tight grip on Hampus’s sleeve, to prevent the elf from going back down into the crevasse.

  “He’s going to be with us going forward, so get used to it,” Kestrel said. “I’m going to start a fire for a little while this evening. He felt secure with the yeti in the camp, even a baby yeti. There was no likelihood of any attackers being in a yeti territory, likely to sneak up on them, even if they did announce their presence and location with a fire in the wilderness. He made Hampus arrange their belongings.

  “You’re not really an elf at all, not really even half-elf, are you?” Hampus asked later, as they sat on the ground and watched the fire. The yeti sat near Kestrel, its eyes shining brightly as it watched the flames with fascination, while Hampus watched the yeti nervously.

  “You disappear with imps and play with yetis, and they say you trade with humans and talk to them and their gods,” he said. “None of that seems like the things an elf does.”

  “Maybe elves – at least those in the Eastern Forest – need to rethink what it means to be an elf,” Kestrel replied. “Maybe the elves shouldn’t hide in the forest and try to avoid the rest of the world.”

  “But we’ve always done it that way,” Hampus replied. “There’s no need to change. Nothing ever has to change.”

  “The Southern Elves lost their entire forest,” Kestrel replied. “The Viathins controlled Uniontown and burnt down the entire forest. They would have done the same to the Eastern Forest if we had just stayed in the forest and tried to pretend we didn’t have to change,” he argued.

  Hampus sat quietly after that. Kestrel let the fire die down, then told Hampus to crawl into his covers and go to sleep.

  “You go to sleep too,” he told the yeti. He wasn’t going to set a watch for the night, not with the young monster present to deter trouble. They would all get a good night’s sleep, and resume the journey when they woke in the morning. He took a drink of the healing water, then laid out his own covers and gingerly laid down, then calmly fell asleep, with the yeti nearby.

  The next morning they resumed their journey. Kestrel and the yeti walked in front, while Hampus kept his space and walked at some distance behind them. The yeti was hungry, Kestrel immediately realized as it eyed the dried fruit he ate while he walked. He kept his bow and arrow at the ready, and sent the monster out to retrieve the rabbits and birds he shot for it as they walked along.

  Feeding the yeti proved to be a time-consuming activity, one that slowed them down, but by midday they were descending from the plateau and beginning to follow a river bed that appeared to take them due west. Kestrel hoped it was the river they needed, the one he had followed through the mountains on his first trip to Kiravee.

  Throughout the morning, he walked in a state of dazed wonder; he was filled with disbelief at the realization that he had befriended a young yeti. When it had happened, prompted by the divine command of Kai, it had seemed like an unusual but acceptable action. But in the morning, as he strode along, the animal’s unwashed fragrance causing him to wrinkle his nose from time to time, the inconceivability of being friends with a yeti was driven home.

  What would it be like to try to take a yeti among the humans of Narrow Bay and North Harbor? How would the yeti react to the sight of so many people around? Could he go on with his planned journey south to Seafare and beyond with a yeti as a companion? It all seemed impossible.

  “Stillwater, Stillwater, Stillwater,” he called as he smelled the yeti once again.

  The imp appeared in the air, took one look at the yeti, and dived at it with a loud yell.

  “Wait!” Kestrel shouted. “Stillwater, don’t attack!” he said, just as a dozen more imps appeared in reaction to Stillwater’s request for help.

  “What’s happening?!” Hampus shouted from his position many yards away.

  “Don’t attack the yeti!” Kestrel shouted at the imps, as the monster swatted at the flying creatures.

  “Kestrel crazy friend, are you alright?” Mulberry asked as all the imps hovered anxiously in the air overhead.

  “I’m fine. The yeti is not a threat. It is my friend,” Kestrel told the imps. “The yeti I killed yesterday was its mother, I think.”

  “You are its new mother?” Acanthus asked cautiously, as most of the imps disappeared.

  “I am not its mother,” Kestrel said decisively. “But I am its friend. And as a friend, I want to give it a bath! Would one of you go get some soap so that when we come to the next river we can give this fellow a bath?”

  “A bath? You’re going to give a yeti a bath?” Hampus asked, approaching the stationery locations of the others.

  The yeti looked on passively, focusing on Kestrel, while stealing glances at the imps to make sure they launched no further attacks.

  “I’ll be back with your soap,” Mulberry said, and disappeared from sight, provoking a warble of curiosity from the yeti.

  “She’ll be back,” Kestrel assured the animal, patting it on the arm. “Let’s get moving forward and find a river or stream,” Kestrel spoke to the others, sending everyone in motion. They had been in the descending valley of a river that drained the plateau, as their game path strayed some distance away from the tumbling water that was falling in a series of cataracts and waterfalls down towards a valley that appeared to weave a path between the mountains to the west.

  “Here’s your soap,” Mulberry announced as she returned. “Take him to the river.”

  The path led them back to a pool between cataracts, and Kestrel decided it was time to stop and remedy the problem of the yeti’s smell.

  He put his things down, and removed his clothes, while the yeti watched with interest, then he stepped into the cool water of the river.

  “Come in friend,” Kestrel motioned to the yeti, encouraging it to join him in the water.

  “Hand me the soap, Mulberry,” he directed the imp as the yeti obeyed and splashed into the stream.

  “Here now, be a good boy and get all wet,” Kestrel directed his companion. “Do you want to come in and help with this?” he asked Hampus expecting to receive no assistance.

  “No, I’m s
ure you’ll do just fine,” the elf said from his seat on the river bank, as Kestrel laid down in the water and motioned for the yeti to do the same.

  The compliant animal responded and laid down. Kestrel accepted the fragrant bar of soap that Mulberry had held ready for him, and began to rub it upon the chest of the yeti. The monster was startled by his touch and reached up with startling speed to grab his wrist.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Kestrel assured the animal. “This won’t hurt. Be a good boy and stand up and let me clean you up,” he spoke in a soft tone. He pried the animal’s fingers loose and stood up, then urged the yeti to do the same.

  “Now, let me wash you some more,” Kestrel told his companion, as he gently rubbed the bar of soap across the muscular chest and up and down the right arm of the yeti.

  “That’s a good boy,” he kept repeating in a reassuring tone as the animal continued to observe his actions closely.

  Kestrel lowered his gentle scrubbing down to the yeti’s stomach, and the creature suddenly convulsed and flailed, its arms striking Kestrel so hard that he was thrown ten feet through the air, and landed in a sitting position in the water.

  He looked up at the yeti, which held its arms over its stomach. “Bad boy! Bad boy!” Kestrel said firmly.

  “You are being too harsh!” Mulberry spoke up.

  Kestrel looked at the imp in shock.

  “You were tickling it,” she explained. “It reacted when you started to scrub its belly and sides. You have to be gentle when doing that, or it will tickle.

  “And you need to stop calling her a boy,” Mulberry added, as she swooped down and took the soap from Kestrel’s hand.

  “What?” Kestrel asked, totally confused.

  “Come help me,” Mulberry called to the other imps. She broke the soap into several pieces, and all of the flying beings swooped down and took the soap from her, then began to approach the yeti from all angles, cautiously moving in to scrub its shoulders, legs, and back simultaneously. The animal giggled, but accepted the attention, patiently standing still as the imps gently attended to their works.

  Mulberry flew up and started to massage the back of the yeti’s skull, cleaning its scalp.

  “See friend Kestrel, this is how it’s done. You must make a woman feel pampered and pretty,” she explained.

  “How do you know it’s a female?” Kestrel asked.

  “Look down between your legs, oh exhibitionist elf, then look between hers, and think about the difference,” Mulberry said impatiently.

  Kestrel blushed faintly as he waded back to the yeti.

  “What kind of soap is that?” he asked as he got an arm’s length away. The yeti now smelled flowery and sweet.

  “It’s the queen’s own soap. She was busy doing something else, so I took it from her own bath. I’ll let her know that I took it at your request,” Mulberry told him. “Doesn’t it smell nice?”

  The soap was heavily scented with flowers. The yeti smelled like a garden in full bloom.

  “Let’s get it rinsed off,” Kestrel suggested. He sat down in the water, and motioned for the yeti to do the same, then he splashed water upon himself and upon the yeti, setting off a water fight that left them both thoroughly rinsed a few minutes later.

  “Now you’ll both smell better,” Mulberry said mischievously. “I’ll let the queen know that you put her soap to good use.”

  “I am in her debt,” Kestrel said as he stood up. He mockingly bowed to the imp.

  “Is there anything else you need from us, Kestrel-cleansed friend?” Stillwater asked.

  “No, Stillwater-enabler, you have solved my problem once again,” Kestrel replied.

  “What is your new mate’s name?” Mulberry asked.

  “Mate?” Kestrel repeated in confusion, as he began to get dressed.

  “The one we just bathed for you,” the imp said mildly.

  “This yeti is not my mate!” Kestrel said heatedly. “You’re trying to stir things up.”

  “Perhaps you should take the yeti as your mate, since the princess rejected you,” Hampus spoke up.

  “The princess did not reject me either,” Kestrel said in exasperation. “I’m the one who stayed away from Center Trunk,” as soon as he said it, he knew that he shouldn’t have. He did not want Hampus returning to the palace and spreading tales about his assertions.

  Just then the topic changed, as Mulberry dropped down to the level of the yeti’s face. The two of them looked at one another.

  “So tell me, sister, why are you ruining your reputation by taking a bath with this unsavory elf?” the imp asked the yeti.

  The monster gave a grunt.

  “It’s your choice, but know that the other yetis are probably going to shun you now,” Mulberry advised.

  “What is her name, Kestrel-friend?” the imp turned to Kestrel, who was getting dressed.

  “I haven’t given her a name,” he replied.

  “Perhaps it’s not your place to give her a name. Perhaps she already has a name. Do you, sister-friend?” Mulberry asked, peering back at the yeti once again.

  The yeti gave a warble in reply.

  “She says her name is Putienne,” Mulberry announced.

  “That’s an awfully fancy name for a yeti,” Kestrel protested.

  “She says, if you become her friend, you can use her nickname, Putty,” the imp glibly replied. “But I’ll warn her never to allow herself to become putty in your hands.”

  “Do you need our wisdom, assistance, and guidance any further?” Mulberry asked.

  “No, no, I think you’ve done enough,” Kestrel said in a bemused tone. He pulled his sword belt on to finish dressing. “Are you ready to move on Hampus?” he asked.

  “You really mean to continue to travel with this deadly creature?” the elf asked in a resigned voice.

  “We’ll leave now. Farewell,” Stillwater spoke, and the three assigned imps left the vicinity.

  “Are you ready, Putty?” Kestrel turned to the yeti, who gave a grunt.

  And with that, they resumed traveling. Kestrel considered the stop a useful one, a small expenditure of time that had made the members of his small traveling band a tiny bit more comfortable with one another.

  “Those imps, they’re real?” Hampus asked as they continued the descent down from the plateau.

  “Absolutely,” Kestrel confirmed the obvious.

  “And they have carried things to you? And they help you? They’ve even carried you to other places?” Hampus asked.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” Kestrel agreed.

  “Could they carry me too?” Hampus asked.

  “Would you agree to give them your first child? Can you perform the black arts?” Kestrel asked in return, seeking to discourage the question that was bound to come next.

  Hampus paused as he considered the questions. “Is that what you had to do?”

  “I rescued their queen from a wolf, and later I rescued their king and queen from captivity,” Kestrel answered.

  “I haven’t done anything like that for them,” the elf commented thoughtfully, then said no more, and they journeyed on through the mountains.

  They found themselves in a river valley, and they followed it for several days. As they traveled, climbing over and around rocky terrain and thorn-covered brambles, Kestrel found that all the travelers were undergoing changes.

  Hampus was growing less whiny, and more able. He no longer expected Kestrel to make every step of the trip as easy as possible, and he no longer completely discounted Kestrel’s towering reputation for heroism, after seeing the part-human kill a yeti and consort with imps. He became a better traveling companion in Kestrel’s eyes.

  Putty the yeti also changed, as Kestrel adapted to the idea of a friendly and docile monster as a traveling partner. He began to try to train the yeti in everything from personal hygiene to manners. Putty proved to be a surprisingly adept student, making Kestrel wonder just how intelligent the race of monsters really was.

&
nbsp; And Kestrel himself was changing too. He no longer saw the journey as a chance to embarrass and exhaust Hampus. He began to enjoy the trip strictly for the sheer pleasure of exerting himself physically as they made the grueling journey. He found the work and effort left him tired every night, and he slept well. He didn’t dream or worry about Oaktown, or Center Trunk. He simply lived each day for the adventure of seeing how far they could travel.

  Two weeks after Putienne had joined them, the river valley began to change. Other rivers had joined their waterway, making it grow larger, to the point of being navigable. Kestrel remembered floating upon a river, probable that very one, when he had journeyed through the mountains before.

  Chapter 20 – Battle with the Miners

  Two weeks later the trio was following the river valley still, as the river grew wider, deeper, and more established. They had maneuvered around cataracts and waterfalls, and continued to make progress in a westerly direction. Kestrel and Putty had envied Hampus, who had not hesitated to run elven-style atop the water through several difficult sections of the river, while Kestrel had loyally accompanied Putty by climbing around, over, and down the cliffs and obstacles that littered the unpopulated valley.

  They were approaching the end of the emptiness. Kestrel estimated that within a day they would reach the region where he had first encountered settlers when he had passed through the mountains on his last journey to the Northern Forest. He worried about the reception that Putty would receive, and how he would protect the growing adolescent monster from attacks by frightened humans and elves.

  He had grown fond of the yeti during their travels. Putty had been curious and eager to please all throughout the journey. Kestrel attributed the inexplicable friendliness to the use of his powers when he had bonded the two of them together. It was unnatural for a yeti to be friendly, but it was the fact that he faced. It was probably just as unnatural for an elf to be friendly towards a yeti, he realized, and grinned.

  Putty was ready to take directions from Kestrel, especially directions related to hygiene and personal space, which Kestrel emphasized. Even he was uncomfortable when he awoke and found the furry arms of the monster wrapped around him. He had talked to Putty, and she had listened attentively. He wasn’t sure the words mattered, but the demonstrations and physical redirecting of actions were attended to.