“Kestrel-antagonizer!” Mulberry screeched.
“Farewell,” a chorus of imps called, and then they disappeared, so that only one imp remained three seconds later.
“Be careful Kestrel-friend,” Mulberry said, drifting closer to her elven charge. “That nightmare was frightening, so very frightening. Call me first when you need help!” she insisted.
“Unless it is help with your love life, of course,” she added after a pregnant pause. She leaned forward and kissed his nose, then vanished.
Kestrel stood, bemused.
“What do we do now?” Orren asked.
“We go downstairs, and we’ll go to see my friend, Lord Ripken,” Kestrel answered. “I hope that we’ll be able to stay at his home tonight,” he answered, then he translated his plan for Hampus.
“So this place – this great building – is a part of the elven kingdom?” the other elf answered in wonder. “We do not build things like this in the Eastern Kingdom,” he noted.
Kestrel began to lead the group around the churning windmills, then through the door that led into the attic space, the upper floor of the tower, where pulleys and cables and gears powered the lifting devices of the building.
“No,” Hampus repeated, “there’s nothing remotely like this in the Eastern Forest. It’s like we’re from a different race.”
“Not so completely different,” Kestrel assured him. “But they do talk with a different accent than we do. Faster – they’ll clip the end of one word off so that they can get to the next one quicker, it seems.
“But the accents are nothing compared to what we’re about to do!” he grinned, as he stopped in front of the improbable mechanical lift that provided transportation up and down the tower.
“Watch what I do, but don’t try to copy me yet,” Kestrel told his audience in two languages. He eyed Putienne speculatively, making the yeti cock her head inquisitively in return. She continued to grow, but she wasn’t too large to fit on the lift, he decided. “Stay here; I’ll be right back,” he said, then he stepped into one of the descending compartments, grabbed hold of the passing netting as he stepped into the tube, and disappeared from the view of his friends on the eighteenth floor. It was easy, not nearly as intimidating as it had seemed the first time he had tried it – though Lucretia’s bold personality had contributed to his nervousness then as well.
He hopped off moments later on the seventeenth floor, stepped over to one of the rising tubes, and rose back up.
“This is faster and easier than climbing stairs,” he assured all his companions, using both languages.
“You really just ride inside that to go to places?” Orren asked dubiously.
“Try it,” Kestrel urged. “Ride down one floor and hop off on the floor below this one, then just wait for the rest of us to come along.”
The two humans looked at one another.
“You two could ride together if you’d feel safer,” Kestrel suggested. “That’s what I did the first couple of times I rode it.”
“Let’s try it,” Orren urged Raines. He stepped over to one of the tubes and looked back at her.
“You think we can do it?” she asked, timidly.
“Here, take my hand, and we’ll step on together,” Orren suggested, holding his hand out to her.
“Put your feet up and step on it before it reaches the floor level, then just step in and hold on,” Kestrel directed.
The next descending platform approached, and Raines counted down. “Three, two, one, now,” she spoke, and their feet rose then took a position on the flat platform, and they stepped – or almost fell – into place a second later. They were facing each other, and they squeezed their torsos against one another as they held each other’s hands on one side, while grabbing a white-knuckled grip on the netting with their free hands.
They stared at each other, then looked at Kestrel and grinned, as they sunk out of sight.
“Alright Hampus, you go next. Go down just one floor if you want, or go all the way to the ground if you feel confident. We’ll be there in a little while,” Kestrel instructed the elf.
Hampus bounded over to the tube, appearing full of confidence. “It’s amazing to think that elves would do something like this,” he grinned, then hopped lightly onto a platform and withdrew from the area.
Kestrel looked at Putty. “There’s only you and me left, my friend,” he said. “Are you ready to go?”
The yeti looked at him without comprehension.
Kestrel walked over and took her by the hand, then led her to stand next to the tube.
“We’ll just go down one floor and see Orren and Raines. Just one floor this time, to test it. It’s easy. You’ll like it,” he said reassuringly.
He watched the platforms move past, rumbling and squeaking as they traveled their appointed rounds, and he judged the timing, then grabbed both of Putienne’s hands, and at the proper moment, pulled her onto a platform with him, using all his might, and embraced her tightly as they left the solid floor and stepped onto the confined space in which they would travel downward.
Putty panicked. The yeti cried, loudly.
“It’s okay,” Kestrel comforted her. “We’ll get off right here on this next floor and you can see Raines and Orren. Don’t worry,” he told the creature.
The seventeenth floor came into view, and Kestrel prepared to push Putty off and to jump after her. Only, as they dropped, he discovered to his shock that his two traveling mates were not where he expected them to be. The floor was empty.
“Where are they Putty?” he asked wonderingly, and he was so astonished that he missed the opportunity to maneuver the frightened creature off the lift. They descended down another floor, and Kestrel saw the two humans standing beside one another just aside from the lift.
“Ready Putty?” he asked, then pressed the yeti with all his effort and moved her aside, so that she started to lose her balance and jumped onto the sixteenth floor of the tower, with Kestrel directly behind.
“We’re sorry; we missed the first floor, but we made it onto this floor,” Orren explained.
“As you see,” Raines added. “And we saw Hampus go by.”
“Are you ready to ride down to the bottom?” Kestrel asked.
“We can do it!” Orren said brightly. “Are you ready?” he asked Raines, and the two of them quickly hopped onto another platform and started their journey down to the ground of the Northern Kingdom.
“Well Putty, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Kestrel asked the yeti. “Are you ready to go again?”
The monster shook her head.
“If we don’t go down the platform in the tube, I’m going to ask the imps to come back and carry us to the ground their way. Would you rather do that instead?” Kestrel asked.
Putty looked upward, towards the ceiling, searching for the imps.
“We can go down the tube, or the imps will come. Let’s go down the tube,” Kestrel coaxed, as he led the unwilling passenger to the tube, then shoved her onto a platform and squeezed onto it with her.
The ride was fairly simple. Only the scream – a loud, piercing one – from an elf maiden on the eighth floor who was shocked by the sight of a yeti riding the tube, interrupted their trip, and they gladly hopped off when they reached the lobby level.
The others were waiting, and Hampus was standing next to the lobby watchman, holding his arm to restrain his as he urgently spoke to him, assuring him that Putienne was a calm and gentle creature, while the yeti lunged off the tube platform and onto the solid floor of the ground level.
“Where did that come from?” the elf asked in fear. “I didn’t see it go up.”
“Oh, the imps brought us. Didn’t I mention that?” Hampus said merrily, delighted at the opportunity to be the more knowledgeable party in a conversation.
“Imps?” the lobby guard asked. “Did you say imps?” he asked, Hampus’s accent sounding strange in his ears.
“Yes, just like last year, when I was here a
nd rescued Princess Aurelia,” Kestrel too treated their arrival as ordinary.
“We are on our way to go see Lord Ripken,” Kestrel explained. “Can you give us directions to his home?”
“His lordship,” the elf answered in faltering tones, “has a manor on the north side of the palace grounds.”
“I’ve been there once,” Kestrel vaguely recollected, “but then I stayed here in this tower most of the time. Could you send a messenger to Ripken’s home, to ask for Tewks to come guide us back here? We’ll stay and keep watch on the lobby. Who would stir trouble with a yeti standing here?” he asked, motioning to Putienne. He spoke distinctly so that the guard would be able to understand his accent.
“And don’t tell Tewks why he needs to come; just tell him he’s been summoned,” Kestrel added, as the bewildered guard walked over to the door of the tower lobby.
The group stood together uncertainly as they watched the guard leave. They all felt comfort, even the humans who did not speak the elven language, as the sophisticated surroundings and the civil tone of the conversation.
“We can sit over there,” Kestrel motioned and spoke to the humans, pointing at a pair of sofas that were in a corner of the high-ceilinged lobby. He led the way over. When Raines and Orren sat on one of the couches, Putty tried to mimic them by sitting on the other, making the framework of the furniture piece groan and sag.
Kestrel and Hampus stood nearby, speaking quietly, as the two humans likewise chatted.
“He had such a strange way of talking,” Hampus commented.
“Their accent is different from ours,” Kestrel agreed.
“We don’t have an accent!” Hampus said indignantly.
“To them, we do,” Kestrel answered. “We drawl our words out, while they clip them off like they’re in such a hurry to say something they can’t even finish each word.”
Out of the edge of his field of vision he suddenly caught sight of movement, something approaching him stealthily. He had his back to the tubes, and he swung around quickly, in time to see a blur, and then he heard his name called.
“Kestrel? Kestrel!” it was Lucretia who came bounding over to him and wrapped herself around him in a luxuriant hug, her arms and even a leg woven around his body to embrace him as she kissed him with a scorching intimacy, that left him breathless.
“Let me look into those extraordinary amethyst eyes,” she purred as their lips parted, and she looked at him with a smoldering examination. “You came back for the wedding! This is so perfect,” she told him.
She parted from him, then ran her hands down the front of her smock. “Let me smooth out these wrinkles you put in my outfit when you mauled me.
“You saw him maul me, didn’t you?” she said to Hampus, who was standing next to Kestrel, staring in slack-jawed astonishment.
At that moment, Putty moved, and Lucretia’s attention was diverted to the sight of the relaxing yeti.
“Oh Were and Powson and Morph!” she screamed, throwing her arms out to grab Kestrel. “There’s a monster!” she pointed.
“They’re human, but hardly monsters,” Kestrel said off-handedly.
“Kestrel! What is that?” Lucretia’s fingers were digging into his arm.
“Come here, Putienne,” Kestrel beckoned, and the yeti rose, then lumbered over.
“Lucretia, this is my friend, Putienne, a yeti – a very young yeti – from the Water Mountains,” Kestrel introduced. “She’s been traveling with Hampus and me for a month.
“Putty, this is Lucretia. She a good friend, but she’s dangerous in her own way,” Kestrel grinned.
The yeti warbled pleasantly.
“And she’s not attacking you?” Lucretia asked. “And what do you mean, ‘dangerous in her own way’?” the girl asked in a dangerous tone. “And who is this?” she turned to examine Hampus.
“Hampus, at your service,” the elf gave an extravagant bow to the intriguing woman.
“Hampus is betrothed to the Princess Elwean of the Eastern Forest. He is here to establish official relations between the two courts,” Kestrel explained, seeing the predatory look in Lucretia’s eyes, and the answering look of interest in Hampus’s.
“And these are our human companions, Raines and Orren,” Kestrel introduced the two humans, who had stood for the arrival of the guest.
“Welcome to our city,” Lucretia said in an excellent use of the human language. “You’ve arrived at an auspicious time.”
“Why is it auspicious?” Kestrel asked.
“Because in two days the Princess Aurelia – your princess friend – is going to be married!” Lucretia answered. “I’m on my way to her night-before party as a matter of fact, and I’m going to be late, now that you’ve distracted me.
“But when I tell her you’re here – I may not mention the yeti at first – she is going to be delighted!” Lucretia crowed. “You’re going to stay for the wedding, aren’t you?”
Just then Kestrel heard another shout behind him, and he spun to find the source of the shout that was laced with notes of fear.
It was Tewks, arriving in the company of the lobby guard. Tewks had spotted the yeti first.
“Wait! Is that Kestrel with the monster?” the boy asked. He ceased shouting, stepped forward, and looked closely.
“It is! Lord Ripken will be so excited! Kestrel is here with a monster, and a yeti too!” he laughed at his own humor.
“Give me your knife so I can toss it at him,” Lucretia growled.
Tewks came charging over, and momentarily hugged Kestrel, before he decided it was inappropriate for a boy of his advanced age to hug anyone.
“We’ve heard the most incredible stories about you, you and Countess Moorin,” Tewks said. “We heard that you were changing bodies and fighting,” he glanced at Putty nervously, “monsters, and then you disappeared.
“And then you reappeared and sent messages and never came back,” Tewks spewed words out, too fast for Hampus to follow readily.
“What is he saying?” the eastern elf asked.
“Tewks, it’s good to see you again,” Kestrel spoke at last. “You’ve grown, I think,” he made the boy blush.
“Will you lead us to Lord Ripken’s home? I was going to ask him for the hospitality of letting our group stay for a few nights,” Kestrel stated.
“He’ll absolutely say yes,” Tewks said.
“I must be off. You can spend the night at my place if nothing else works out,” Lucretia said, then kissed Kestrel’s cheek. “I will see you tomorrow,” she added affirmatively, and hastily departed.
“He’ll say yes, but Targus will need to do some juggling,” Tewks expanded his comment. “With all the wedding guests in town, the manor is pretty full. Let’s head over there and see what they can do,” he suggested. Without waiting for further introductions to the others in the group, he whirled on his heel and headed towards the door.
“We’re going to go see if we can find rooms for the night,” Kestrel translated for the humans, then turned to follow Tewks out of the lobby of the extraordinary tower.
It felt comfortable to be back in Kirevee, Kestrel reflected. He looked up at the skies that were clear, though without the brilliant colored stars he had seen at the healing spring. In Kirevee, on his first visit to the Northern Elves, he’d felt like a worldly traveler for the first time. The trip had come after his time in Graylee, where he’d been a spy, and felt like a spy. After experiencing Estone, then Graylee, his journey to the Northern Forest had been just one more exotic land to visit, to some degree. He’d gone on to more strange places, and other extraordinary adventures afterwards. But they had not had the sense of overwhelming strangeness that his first trips had created. By the time he’d gotten to Kirevee, he’d gotten his feet beneath him.
Perhaps. Or perhaps he was simply romanticizing, remembering a city where his adventures had produced such positive results.
Tewks led the way. “Why are you traveling with a yeti?” he asked Kestrel. “Is it
safe? Does it eat people?”
“Only small people,” Kestrel replied.
“Truly, I fought her mother in the mountains and killed her. Then I couldn’t leave the baby as an orphan, so she’s been my companion ever since. I do need to feed her though,” he added. “Do you think Lord Ripken’s kitchen has some fresh meat?”
“We’re getting ready for the wedding, and there are banquets three times a day, it feels like – there’s so much food in the kitchen the cook complains about it. He told me to eat more the other day!” Tewks replied in amazement. “Yes, you can feed your yeti all you want, as long as it doesn’t like fresh elf meat!” the boy laughed.
They crossed in front of the main entrance to the palace, and a sudden shout erupted.
Kestrel instantly understood what was happening; Putty had been spotted by the light of the palace lanterns.
Bowstrings started twanging, and Putty gave a roar of surprise.
“Everyone, close up together!” Kestrel shouted. He grabbed Tewks by the collar and pulled the boy close to himself, producing a squawk of surprise as Kestrel stepped back towards the yeti, and focused his own surprise, twisting in into-and-together-with his concern for Putienne, then manipulating the emotions to produce the outpouring of power that raised a domed blue shield, protecting Kestrel and all those close by from any attack, including the attack by the palace bowmen, who were raining shafts down on the small band of unknown travelers.
“Great heavens!” Tewks exclaimed. “Where did that come from?” he asked, his neck craning to look at the all-encompassing dome.
“Kestrel made it,” Hampus answered.
“You can do things like this?” the boy asked, with a note of awe and respect momentarily creeping into his voice.
“Why are we always under attack?” Raines asked in a desperate voice.
“Maybe it’s because we have a yeti with us!” Orren answered.
“Tewks, can you tell them to stop shooting?” Kestrel asked. “Will they listen to you? Do they know you?”
“Kestrel!” the boy answered indignantly, his voice growing shrill. “Everyone knows me in the palace, especially the guards. They chase me all the time!”
The Guided Journey (Book 6) Page 26