The Unwilling Aviator (Book 4)

by Heidi Willard

  Ruth furrowed her brow. "Then you are letting me keep it?" she wondered.

  Ned smiled and looked over her surprised face with a kind expression. "I wouldn't trust anyone else with the great power inside that box. I trust that if you do use it, it will be for a good cause."

  Ruth smiled and cradled the box in her arms. "Thank you. I promise I will not betray your faith in me."

  Ned chuckled. "I believe you are the last person to betray us." He paused and looked over the large box. "However, you may have trouble hiding such a large present. I might have a remedy for that." He rummaged around in his cloak again and brought out a drawstring bag four inches deep with a three-inch mouth. Ned opened the mouth and held it toward her. "This will prove to be a better carrying case."

  "But it will not fit in there," Ruth argued.

  Ned feigned insult. "Have you not as much faith in me as I have in you?" he teased.

  Ruth pursed her lips, but lifted the box so its side brushed against the mouth. Her eyes widened as she watched the box compact itself and slip a few inches into the bag. She was so startled she dropped the rest of the box and it completely disappeared into the container. Ned tightened the drawstrings and held the bag out to her. It had a bulge at the bottom, but was hardly larger than before the box had gone inside.

  "More magic?" she wondered.

  "More magic," he replied. She opened her hands and he set the bag into her palms. "The bag is much like the cloaks Fred and I wear, but with less space. You can see that the bag is already half-full with that box." He tapped the side of the bag and it made a sound as though he knocked wood.

  "This is-this is wonderful!" she complimented.

  Ned chuckled and stood. "Magic is a wonder if you have the right castor," he corrected her.

  Ruth glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping forms around the dead fire. One lad in particular had her attention. "Will Fred be such a castor as you?" Ruth asked him.

  Ned followed her gaze, and a soft smile slipped onto his lips. "Only time will tell," he replied.

  "Speaking of time, would ya two be a little quieter? Some of us are trying to sleep," a grumpy old dwarf called from his blanket.

  Ned chuckled and stood. "And that is my cue to return to my bed. Goodnight, Ruth."

  Ruth bowed her head. "Goodnight, Ned."

  CHAPTER 3

  The next morning the companions packed their supplies and set off on their journey to Kite. The road was empty and at sunset they reached the region border to find an abandoned camp. There were broken tents, dishes, and a makeshift wall of stone along either side of the road. Pat gagged at the remains of dwarven food, and Percy smiled. "This must be the remains of the encampment ordered by King Piako to protect the border and the stone," he commented.

  "Another idiotic move by a scared idiot," Canto quipped. "Ah have to admit Ah won't be missing much of the dwarves."

  "That goes for two of us," Pat mumbled.

  "Well, let's be moving on. The blasted guards didn't go far enough with their outhouse," the old dwarf commented.

  "Not for too far. Our horses need rest," Percy reminded them.

  "Then we'll get out of smelling distance and rest there," Ned suggested.

  The party rode past the encampment and into the Kite region. They stopped a few miles upwind of the dwarf encampment. This camp was closer to the road and farther from the edge of the thick woods. The companions ate and settled down for a much-needed rest. Most of them were quick to sleep. Canto snored and Percy whistled through his nose. Sins' eyes were wide open beneath the brim of his hat, and Ned slept with his back turned to the group. Ruth stood on the outskirts of the camp in her gargoyle form.

  Fred lay on his bedroll listening to the sounds of the Percy and Canto orchestra and staring up at the ceiling. He was exhausted like the others, but he wasn't sleepy. Fred tried every position he knew to get to sleep. On his sides, back, stomach, with his feet on his pillow, counting cantankus. Nothing worked.

  "Will you please stop moving about?" Pat hissed at him. She lay close beside the insomniac.

  Fred sat up and ran his hand through his messy hair. "I think I'll go get some fresh air."

  "We're out in the fresh air," she reminded him.

  "Then maybe I'll go get some bad air. Besides, I need to go relieve myself," he told her. Fred stood, walked quietly around the edge of the encampment, and into the woods. He pushed through the thick brush and low-lying branches, and in a few minutes found himself walking into a clearing that ran alongside a small spring. The tree branches hung low over the flowing water and rocks sat at the bank gathering moss. The water gurgled pleasantly, but Fred still didn't find peace in the sound. He knelt down by the bank and dipped his hands into the cool stream. The water flowed over his fingers and he gazed at his reflection. His weary eyes stared back at him, but there was something more in the water.

  He squinted and noticed another reflection. It was the full body of a tall, beautiful woman robed in white who stood across the stream. She had a sumptuous figure that he found familiar. It was Lady Mariana Martley of Galaron. Her playful eyes and smiling lips looked back at him, and he could almost hear a faint echo of a giggle. Fred whipped his head up, but there was nothing there but the empty woods and a cool breeze. He looked back down at the water. The reflection was gone. He must have been imagining things.

  "This is an awful distance to relieve one's self," a voice commented.

  Fred jumped up and spun around to find Ned standing behind him. The young man clutched at his chest and glared at his master. "What are you doing out here?" he asked Ned.

  "Assisting Ruth in her nightly patrol," he replied. Ned walk up to Fred and stood beside him. "But what are you doing out here, my dear apprentice?"

  Fred shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

  There was a pause, and when Ned spoke his voice sounded strained. "Really? Then perhaps we can make use of your insomnia."

  Fred turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "How?" was his flat reply.

  Ned smiled and his eyes twinkled. "With some castor practice, of course. Do you still have that pamphlet I gave you?"

  "Yes, but I haven't gotten very far in it," Fred answered as he pulled it from his coat.

  "Let me see." Ned took the pamphlet and flipped through the pages until he reached Fred's last lesson at page six. "It seems you weren't jesting when you said you hadn't gone very far," he commented. Fred shrugged. The book hadn't been that much help to him. "Perhaps I should add some points for your recent achievements." He tapped the tip of his staff against the pamphlet and held it out to Fred.

  Fred took the book and opened it. The pages were filled with silhouetted figures in the basic positions and spells. There was the levitation ability, the earthquake trick, and even creating fire. Fred flipped through the pages to the very end and looked at the final lesson. It was a two-page spread where a silhouetted figure stood with one arm held straight out. The staff for the figure was on the other page and flew toward the person's open hand.

  Fred lowered the book and looked to Ned. "What's this mean?" he asked the old castor.

  "A very unique ability," Ned replied. He slammed the bottom of his staff into the soft earth and turned away from Fred. Fred stood and watched Ned walk a dozen yards away from him. Then Ned stopped, but didn't turn around.

  Fred frowned and moved so he stood beside Ned's staff. "So what's this unique ability supposed to-" Ned turned and stretched out his arm like the silhouetted figure in the book. The staff beside Fred flew from the ground and across the distance into Ned's hand. Fred stumbled back and his knees collided with a large rock. He collapsed onto the stone while Ned strode toward him with a smile on his face. "H-how did you do that?" Fred asked him.

  Ned seated himself on a rock close beside Fred. "It is a very old castor ability. Very few know about it, and even fewer were ever able to perform it."

  "But I thought we couldn't do any magic without our staff?" Fred reminded him.

  Ned set
his staff across his lap and his wizened hands slid along the smooth wood. His voice softened as his eyes traveled over the soft surface. "I can't recall ever telling you about the history of castors."

  "Or much of anything," Fred grumbled.

  Ned smiled. "Yes, I'm afraid Pat is correct. I have been lax in your lessons. I will make amends by a history lesson."

  Fred cringed. "Actually, I'm fine. I don't need-"

  "The castors were at one time a very powerful group. The first of them came from the west across the sea and became the learned men for kings and princes. They created the Region Stones to harness the natural magic of the peoples, and learned to use sacred wood to focus their powers in staffs rather than the large stones."

  Fred sighed and set his chin in one hand. "So what happened?" he half-heartedly wondered.

  "What happens to everyone. Time," Ned replied. Fred raised his head and an eyebrow. "Castors are people, too. They live and die, and the blood from the west thinned. Castors became people, and there are now very few who can use the magic."

  "So are we the only two?" Fred asked him.

  Ned smiled. "That would make us very special, but there remains enough of us to continue the castoring." He opened his hand that held his staff, and Fred's eyes widened when the stick levitated above Ned's palm.

  Fred pulled out his sticks and transformed them into his staff. "So I can do that, too?" he asked his master.

  Ned let fall his staff and chuckled. "That remains to be seen, but a try won't hurt," he replied.

  Fred's face broadened into a grin and he jumped off his seat. He planted his staff in the ground and raced to where Ned had stood. Fred turned around and his face fell. His staff was once again two sticks with one end stuck in the ground. Ned chuckled and stood. "It seems you have a complication."

  Fred furrowed his brow and held out his hand as Ned had done. He focused his eyes on the two sticks and grit his teeth. The sticks sat on the ground mocking him. Fred's hand fell to his side and he frowned. "Is there a secret to this ability?" he asked Ned.

  Ned stooped and pulled Fred's stick from the ground. "Yes. It's a very old secret." He walked over to Fred and placed the sticks in the young man's hand. "It's called time."

  Fred raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

  Ned nodded. "That's it. This is a very difficult ability. It may take months or years to master." He half turned and looked over the young man with one careful eye. "Or you may never be able to perform the ability."

  Fred frowned. "So how do I know if I'm able to do it?"

  Ned put a hand on his shoulder and turned the young man back towards camp. "You can't, but why don't we return to the camp before-"

  "-we wonder what you two doing?" a voice spoke up. The men looked ahead of them to find Pat and Ruth standing in the trees. Pat stepped forward and crossed her arms. "What were you two are doing out here?"

  Ned pulled Fred's hand up to show the sticks. "Practicing."

  "Uh-huh. In the middle of the woods in the middle of the night?" she wondered.

  "Night practicing sooths saddle-soreness," Ned countered.

  "What were you practicing?" Ruth spoke up.

  "Hand control and the right way to hold a staff," he told them.

  Pat's eyes flickered over to Fred who slapped a grin on his face. "Is that so?" she mused. Fred furiously nodded his head. Pat sighed and shook her head. "If you gentlemen are done practicing we should get some sleep."

  "A good idea," Ned agreed. He turned the teenagers around and guided them toward the camp. "We have a long road ahead of us tomorrow, and some interesting scenery to admire."

  CHAPTER 4

  The four returned to camp and found everyone was awake except Canto. Percy stood by the embers of their fire and looked wearily at the dwarf. He snored louder than ever. Pat frowned and clamped her hands on her ears. "Does he need to be so loud?" she wondered.

  Ned chuckled. "Dwarves are a naturally loud people, even when they sleep, and especially after a few days' hard ride. Fortunately, I have just the remedy for this situation."

  "Waking him up?" Pat suggested.

  "Let's let sleeping dwarves lie," Ned replied. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a glass jar filled with pieces of fluffy white cotton. Ned popped open the lid and held the mouth out to the others. "Take two and stuff these in your ears," he directed them.

  Pat rolled her eyes, but grabbed a pair, as did the others. Sins ignored the offer and settled back against his trunk. The group tightly stuffed the cotton into their ears and lay down for a rest. Fred mimicked the others by laying down, but he never found the sleep he desired. His mind returned to the stream over and over again as he thought about the reflection of Martley smiling at him. He hadn't thought of her in so long that he couldn't bring himself to believe he just imagined her out of thin air. Unfortunately, he had no answers, and not much sleep that night.

  The sun rose the next morning bright and early, and the group along with it. They gathered their supplies and set off down the road through Kite country. The first few miles were as wooded and wet as the Dirth region, but slowly the geography changed. The ground dried and the color faded from green to orange and yellow, and steep, rocky cliffs rose up from woods. The trees thinned and became scraggly things that clung to small crevices along the cliffs. The road in front of them narrowed and meandered through high walls of rock, and occasionally a stone clattered down from above.

  Later that day they rode down into a narrow canyon. The area was calm and quiet. Fred was only half awake when he heard a loud noise ahead of them. It sounded like a screaming animal. Fred's eyes widened and he glanced past Pat and Ned to the trail ahead of them. The shrubs and scraggly trees were whipped about by a terrible gust of wind that swept toward them.

  Ned ducked low and glanced over his shoulder at the others. "Prepare yourselves!" he shouted. Everyone hugged their chests to their steeds and prepared for the oncoming beast of a breeze.

  The powerful gust of wind hit them with a wave of dust. It swirled around them in a tornado pattern, and kicked up dust and even small rocks. Sins clutched onto his fedora and the end of Ned's hat whipped to and fro behind him. Pat cringed and clung onto her reins. "What in the world is this?" she yelled above the roaring noise.

  Ned chuckled. "The usual welcome of Kite. Its constant wind."

  "Does it ever-" Pat exclaimed just as the wind died down as quickly as it came, "stop?" She turned her head this way and that, but the tornado was gone.

  "Occasionally," Ned teased. "The nights are often calm, but from an hour before sunrise and an hour after there are enough winds to lift a kite."

  "And the closer we come to String the worse the wind will be?" Percy guessed.

  "Yes, but there are pockets along this trail where a traveler will not meet with much wind resistance, and the city itself is snug beneath high cliffs," Ned told him.

  "Then we had better find one of these pockets and set up camp. Night's going to be falling soon," Canto pointed out.

  "Onward, wind weary troops!" Ned called to them. He guided them onward and after a few more run-ins with the whipping wind they came to a cave opening large enough to lead their animals inside if they dismounted, which Ned did.

  The others followed suit, and Ruth looked curiously at the cave walls. There were chisel marks along the sides. "Was this cave made by someone?" she asked Ned.

  "By the people of String. It's a cave for weary travelers to rest in on their journey to the capital," he explained to her. He led the way inside and they found the cave was clean and spacious. A rock fire pit sat in the center surrounded by stone benches. There were even posts on their left to tie their horses.

  "This is very kind of them," Percy commented. He tied his horse, unpacked his bedroll, and turned to Ned. "What sort of a people are these Kiters?"

  "A very freedom-loving sort when their rulers aren't trying to spoil their fun," Ned replied.

  Canto harumphed. "And more than a little strange," h
e added.

  Ned smiled. "And a little of that." He secured his horse and seated himself on one of the benches. With a flick of his staff a fire arose from the half-burnt wood in the pit. "They have neither king nor lord, but are ruled by a counsel of old men in an assembly of judges called the Senex," he told them. "The people can bring their grievances to the Senex at any time and have it debated among them. The verdict us unquestioned, and the law is revised based on their judgment."

  Pat frowned. "There are no women among them?" she asked him.

  Ned shook his head. "None at all save for the occasional soothsayer whom they consult on important matters, though some women have been known to rule through their husbands and sons," he replied.

  "A bunch of old fools," Canto grumbled. He plopped himself down on a stone bench and warmed his hands. The wind was a cold companion. "Arguing this and fighting over that like a bunch of proud hens, and never getting anything done."

  "The tournament is always on time," Ned argued.

  "And that is in the fall?" Ruth recalled.

  "Yes, and while we may be missing a grand sight of thousands of Kiters swooping through the air, we will be better off without the crowds," Ned replied.

  Percy nodded. "Indeed. The more people around the harder it will be to find the stone and destroy it," he agreed.

  "Are we going to talk all night or are we going to eat something?" Canto spoke up.

  A sly smile slipped onto Ned's face. "All those in favor of food and rest say 'aye.'"

  "Aye!" everyone yelled.

  Ned turned to Canto and bowed his head. "The votes were unanimous and the measure has passed. We may eat."

  Canto rolled his eyes and everyone laughed. They proceeded to eat and sleep, but some hours later Fred was awakened by the whistling of the wind. He tried to get back to sleep, but after a few hours of counting cantankus he gave up and arose. The cave was quiet and the fire embers cast a faint light on the cave walls.

  Fred noticed a silhouette outside the entrance and walked over to it. It was Ruth in her gargoyle form as she watched for signs of trouble. Fred meant to be quiet, but his foot kicked a stone. In a half second Ruth turned and wrapped her tail around him. Fred yelped when he was lifted from the ground and pulled toward her outstretched claws. She stopped him just short of her talons and gasped.