Although in truth it offered little in the way of shelter they could at least lay down and be out of sight of the tower. Having traveled long with little sleep this is exactly what they decided to do.
“While we're resting let's see what the lich sent with us,” Darek said, stretching himself out beside the stream. “I could use a bite to eat. I lost most of my dinner last night.”
“Alright,” Paul replied digging through the contents of the bag. “Let's see, hard tack and dried meat...”
“I should have taken some leftovers,” his companion interrupted.
“Sure, sure,” the young man said before continuing. “A couple of water-skins, a flint and steel.”
“That'll come in handy.”
“And a note...”
“What's it say?”
“Let's see here,” Paul replied opening the missive, which had been neatly folded in quarters. “Dearest Paul, get out of Zanoth before you end up dead. Myra.”
“Simple and to the point,” Darek observed.
“Yeah. I was actually kind of hoping for something more.”
“I'm sure,” Darek chuckled.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing really,” his companion replied. “It's just I guess that if I was the kind of guy that went around kissing liches...”
“I don't go around kissing liches,” the young man interrupted. “I've kissed a single lich a single time.”
“I'll take your word for it,” Darek smiled. “But I think you're splitting hairs there. I mean, either you kiss liches or you don't.”
“I disagree,” Paul said shaking his head. “Myra is not your average, everyday lich. I assure you I've never had any desire to kiss any other lich.”
“Do you know any other liches?”
“No, but...”
“So you did kiss the only lich you ever met then?” Darek interrupted.
“Yes,” the young man chuckled. “I suppose I did. Either way, is there a point to all this?”
“My point is that if I were a lich kisser I would have wanted more out of a love note from my lich than that.”
“It's not a love note,” Paul pointed out.
“But you wanted it to be,” Darek counter-pointed-out. “Unless the something more you were talking about was directions to the nearest inn or something.”
“Well no, but...”
“Do you like her?” Darek interrupted, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“I do,” the young man nodded. “She's actually a really nice person once you get to know her.”
“No,” his companion said shaking his head. “I mean do you like her?”
“Yeah...” Paul said slowly. “Yeah, now that you mention it I guess I do. Why?”
“Just curious. I've never met anyone that had a crush on a lich, that's all.”
“Is it a problem?”
“No. It's just weird that's all. I mean, it takes all kinds to make a world. And you've arguably saved my life twice in the last twenty four hours. If you're in love with some dead chick, who am I to judge?”
“I wouldn't say in love,” Paul replied. “I just said I like her.”
“It's a slippery slope, my friend.”
“Either way, Myra's not dead.”
“You keep telling me that,” Darek chuckled.
“And it's completely true!”
“Well, either way, you're in luck,” his companion replied. “Because I think it's pretty obvious she likes you too.”
“You think so?” the young man smiled.
“Even skipping the part where she saved your life last night...”
“Which she would have done for any friend,” Paul interrupted.
“And overlooking the note...” Darek continued.
“Which wasn't a love note.”
“She didn't kill you stone dead with her magic when you kissed her. Which I figure has to be the lich language of love.”
“Well she couldn't do that actually,” the young man explained.
“What?”
“She tried to kill me with dark magic once, when I was trying to kill her. That's how we met.”
“I've seriously got to get out of this place,” Darek replied shaking his head. “Things are just getting too weird for me. There has got to be an undead-free tropical island out there somewhere...”
“I know what you mean...”
“Anyways, there's always the much more conventional: she's didn't slap you in the face.”
“I can see that,” Paul nodded.
“Right,” Darek smiled. “So, if we survive all this I would say your kissing liches future is fairly bright.”
“She said I'd never see her again,” the young man pointed out with a sigh.
“So what. Women always say crazy crap like that when they're upset. And she had been crying, I don't care what she said. So, just hold the good thought and in time you may be kissing your lich again.”
“Let's hope so,” the young man chuckled. “But for now let's get back to the staying alive bit.”
“I completely agree,” his companion nodded. “And we can eat while we walk.”
The pair immediately put their plan into motion munching and marching alongside the little stream. They managed to keep moving, in spite of their exhaustion, until the sun was setting. Just before the light failed they came upon a little wooded dale where some of the trees, watered by the rill, had managed to cling to life even in the heart of the dark lands. It was here the young men decided to camp for the night.
“So you think build a fire or not?” Paul asked as they came to a halt.
“Well our choices are: build a fire and hope nothing spots us, or don't build a fire and hope no wandering undead comes up and eats us.”
“Build a fire, I think.”
“I think I agree.”
The young men started a small blaze and took two hour shifts of sleeping and standing watch. After a long and fearful night the dawn finally broke. As Paul stood up with a stretch, preparing to wake his companion, he saw a familiar light in the distance. It was the small green glow of a flying fairy. He sighed with relief as a wide smile spread across his face.
“Time to wake up man,” he said. “The cavalry's arrived.”
“I'm glad to hear it,” Darek replied sleepily. “I could use a horse. I'm about sick of walking.”
“That's not exactly what I meant,” the young man chuckled.
“Paul!” Nyssa shouted excitedly as soon as she reached them. “Thank the gods I've found you! Alena and Sarrac are heading this way, but we don't need to wait on them. Let's get out of here!”
“Agreed! And, by the way, this is Darek.”
“Nice to meet you, Darek,” she said with a curtsy. “I'm called Nyssa.”
“Always a pleasure to meet a fairy.”
“You're too kind,” she smiled. “Now let's go!”
The weary companions fell in line behind her and followed as quickly as they could. In less than an hour they encountered the ogre and ogress heading directly toward them, each riding a horse and leading a third along behind them.
“Myra did it!” Alena exclaimed as soon as they were in earshot.
“It seems she did,” Sarrac said with a wide smile.
“I can't believe it,” the ogress laughed. “I just can't believe it! I mean, not that she tried. I knew she would try. I just can't believe she succeeded.”
“Well she did,” Paul nodded, before introducing everyone.
“It was a good idea to bring horses,” Darek said with a smile.
“It was!” Paul agreed. “But it looks like we're still going to have to share.”
“That won't be a problem,” Sarrac assured him.
“So,” the young man began. “We've got the blade, we've cleansed the shrine, where to next?”
“You have to take the veil,” Alena replied.
“I have to become a nun?” Paul chuckled.
“What?” she asked.
>
“Nothing. Let's hear the prophecy.”
“Of course,” Sarrac replied with a smile. “The prophecy of The Veil states:
If need should rise, then take the veil,
To mask the power that has grown,
Let evil searchers weep and wail,
For it conceals, where he has flown,
And what they seek will not be shown.
The fair folk watch it night and day,
And sing of it in merry songs.
A friend shall guide him in the way,
And lead him to their happy throngs,
Then give him what, to him belongs.”
“Which means what exactly?” Darek asked.
“Normally I have to ask,” Paul pointed out. “Sarrac likes sounding mysterious.”
“I do actually,” the ogre confessed. “Either way, this one is very easy to understand. The Veil is a magical item capable of concealing magical auras. Meaning it can hide the holy symbol Paul bears, as well as the power he uses when he turns. So, it will allow him to travel without being tracked magically.”
“Sounds good!” the young man said. “So how do we get it?”
“Simplicity itself,” Sarrac smiled.
“I'm glad,” Paul replied. “After what I've been through I could use an easy one.”
“Well this is very easy. All we have to do is go back to the fairy spring. Then Nyssa will take you to get it.”
“What?” the young man asked. “Why didn't we just get it when we were there before?”
“Because the need had not risen, your power had not grown, etc.”
“I hope you don't get us killed one day by sticking too closely to the prophecies.”
“I won't,” the ogre laughed. “But either way, the fairies wouldn't have given it to you until they were certain you were the it.”
“Will they be now?” Paul asked.
“Absolutely!” Nyssa assured him. “There's no question now, you're the it or there is no it.”
“Well then,” he smiled. “Let's go take that veil.”
Darek was given the extra horse while Paul climbed up in front of Alena. The young man was thrilled almost beyond measure by the fact that he was moving along without having to lift his feet. It made him so happy he almost welled up a little. However, this sense of joy slowly faded as the sun sank toward the horizon. It had been a long time since he had spent most of the day in a saddle and it was with almost bowed legs that he climbed from the back of his mount when they finally stopped.
The band had no choice but to spend another night in the dark lands, as there was no way they could press their beasts on farther. Not to mention how dangerous it could be to travel at night in that particular region. As such, they setup camp as the last rays of sun disappeared from the sky. They shared the watches equally between them, with the exception of Nyssa, who was too easily distracted to stand guard reliably.
The night passed without incident and before the sun was in the sky the party was once again on its way. Hour followed hour as mile followed mile and at last, just before dusk the well of the fairies once again rose into view. Paul gazed at the place of peace with a wide smile on his face. The last few days had been a tad rough and he was greatly looking forward to spending the night laying in the luxurious grass.
The moment they arrived Paul led Darek to the fountain, from which they both drank deeply. Once again life ran like fire through his veins and he burst out laughing.
“So we're here,” he said with a broad smile. “What do we do now Nyssa?”
“We rest,” she giggled.
“What about getting the veil?”
“To do that we have to go to my homeland,” she explained. “And we have to do that at dawn.”
“Alright,” he nodded. “So will it just be the two of us?”
“No, I think I can take all of you,” she replied. “After all, any friend of the it is a friend to the fair folk.”
In truth, Paul was relieved by the fact that they could do nothing more for the moment. If there was one thing he really wanted to spend the entire night doing more than anything else it was nothing. What little sleep he had gotten over the last three nights had been filled with visions of waking up to fight off undead horrors that were attacking the camp. He knew no such dreams would haunt him here.
With a contented sigh he collapsed in the grass and in mere moments, his slow and steady breathing revealed the fact that he was asleep. He opened his eyes before dawn the following morning to see Nyssa buzzing above him encouraging him to hurry and get up. With a satisfied stretch he climbed to his feet, as his companions followed his example one by one. As soon as they were all conscious and moving the fairy led them back to the fountain, around which a ring of mushrooms had sprung up.
“Now whatever you do,” she said very seriously, “don't step outside the ring while we're in Falmarrin.”
“Falmarrin?” Paul asked.
“My homeland,” she giggled.
“Why shouldn't we leave the ring?” Darek asked.
“You'd die instantly,” she explained.
“That's a good reason,” he nodded.
As soon as the first rays of sun touched the treetops the fairly began to fly quickly around the circle's edge, singing a song that even Paul couldn't understand the words to. Suddenly a blue-green light began to rise from the mushrooms and the young man could see something beyond the ring in which they stood.
The first thing to catch his attention was the fact that other fairies, perhaps hundreds of other fairies, appeared to be flying beyond the outside of the circle going in the opposite direction of Nyssa. These tiny creatures were partially transparent, however, and though he could see them clearly he could also clearly see through them. Seconds later he realized that whereas they seemed to become more and more substantial with every passing moment, the woodlands beyond appeared as if they were slowly fading away.
Suddenly there was flash of blue-green light and the entire party found itself standing in a different forest glade, beside a fountain almost identical to the one in Zanoth. Paul's heart pounded in his chest as he glanced around him. For the first time he was seeing what true life really was.
They trees surrounding them were clearly ancient and reached into the sky beyond the range of the young man's vision. Sunlight so bright that it appeared to be liquid gold poured down on them from the heavens through the leafy boughs above. The air was filled with the scents of countless blossoms as the sounds of singing birds and flowing water filled their ears, as well as their souls.
Around them stood a horde of animals of all kinds, and thousands of fairies fluttered on the breeze, giggling and chatting amongst themselves. Nyssa flew to the front of the party and raised both her tiny hands. To Paul's amazement total silence enveloped the glen just moments later, the sound of streams and waterfalls the only thing refusing to obey the fairy.
“My friends,” she began, her cheerful voice echoing through the wood. “Allow me to present the champion we have long awaited, Paul Stevens, the it.”
As she said this she turned, raising one hand in the young man's direction. Instantly the animals all knelt or bowed as best suited their anatomy, and the fairy throng curtsied and saluted depending on their gender. Cheers and roars then rent the air as the fair folk rushed up to the young man together. Thousands of tiny hands patted him on the back as the males showed their respect, while thousands of tiny lips covered his face with kisses as the females expressed their admiration.
“Now dear daughter,” one of the younger looking fairy-men said, gazing at Nyssa as he spoke. “You may fetch the veil.”
“Of course, my lord,” she replied with a curtsy before flying quickly out of sight.
“I am Galfin Drallas,” the fairy lord said, smiling at Paul. “And it's honor to meet you, Paul.”
“I'm sure the honor's mine,” the young man replied. “Although I have to admit, I have no idea who you are.”
At this the
fairy throng burst into riotous laughter, the little lord himself doubling over with merriment.
“He's our king,” a truly gorgeous fairy said, fluttering up into the young man's face.
“And our father,” one of the male fairies pointed-out.
“There's no greater honor our people offer non-fey,” another added, “than introducing them to Galfin.”
“Well I certainly am honored!” the young man replied.
This was also met with peals of laughter.
“Of course you are!” one of five identical female fairies who had gotten right in front of him said.
“We wanted to honor you!” another added.
“So we did!” a third explained.
“And I'm glad we did!” the forth pointed out.
“So, am I!” the fifth replied, flying up to kiss him on the lips. “He certainly deserves it!”
This gesture was immediately imitated by every female fairy in the vicinity including Nyssa, who had just returned carrying a silver ring in her tiny hands, and who got caught up with the crowd. She was the very last to put her lips to his and stood out as rather conspicuously alone when she drew back. It was with a bright blush that she pulled away from him, giggling, a wide smile on her face.
“Valiant it,” she began, hovering just in front of him, the ring held out before her, “allow me to offer you the veil.”
Having said this she dropped the ring into his uplifted hand.
“It's a ring,” he said, pointing out the blindingly obvious.
“Of course it is!” Galfin replied with a wide smile.
Once more laughter ripped its way through the throng in merry waves.
“What did you expect?” Nyssa asked.
“I don't know,” he admitted. “A veil of some kind, I guess.”
More laughter.
“It's a veil from a metaphorical point of view,” Galfin explained. “Now put it on.”
The young man immediately obeyed. For several seconds following this action the fairies stared at him, apparently stunned.
“Nothing!” one of the male fairies exclaimed.
“Amazing!” another added, gazing at one of his nearby companions. “I can't even see your magic!”
The Tower of Daelfaun (The Tales of Zanoth Book 1) Page 16