“How so?”
“Well, it never seems to be doing anything—shall I say—worthwhile. Always playful, ever the rascal. Useless sort of creature; we are better off without it. But come now; the volcano is up ahead, and I don’t want you caught in the Swamplands after dark.”
They passed out of the Swamplands to traverse the twisted black formations of lava leading up to the volcano. It was not a great distance to the mountain’s base. When they reached it, Whimly directed them along a narrow path leading to a dank tunnel.
“It has been a pleasure meeting you all, and if you ever pass my way again, I hope you’ll stop in to see me. The Swamplands are, well, a bit lonely.”
“You are leaving us?”
He stretched out his wings and shook hands with everyone, lingering when he came to Oganna. “I hope that time will allow me to see you again, young one.”
“As do I.” She reached out and gave him a daughterly hug.
He stepped onto a large rock and flapped his wings, then turned and offered them some final advice. “If at all possible, do not sleep inside the mountain, for I have heard it said that travelers who do have disappeared without a trace. Stay together, and do not rest until you have passed through the tunnels and stand in the land beyond.” With a jump, he flattened out his wings against the air and glided back into the Swamplands.
With the cold, dank air of the tunnel seeming to press down on her, Oganna had no difficulty staying awake. The close walls bore the deep gouges of chisels used to carve the tunnel out of solid stone, and millions of arachnids skittered around, entering and leaving adjoining tunnels or disappearing into the dark recesses of the many chambers they passed.
Gleaming blood red, Avenger’s blade pierced the veil of darkness ahead of her as she held it at hip level. The silver robes, smooth as molten metal, created a circle of light around her feet, allowing her to avoid tripping over uneven ridges in the floor.
The hours passed, dull and monotonous. She could feel Caritha keeping very close to her left shoulder, while Ombre was practically breathing down her neck. Without her they had no light by which to see their way.
A gleam in the dark, reminding her of a flickering candle, disappeared around a corner in the tunnel ahead. Was it the eye of a creature? Maybe, but she doubted it. The light had been too bright, and she thought it had blinked with a light all its own, not some reflection caused by her sword’s glow. Whatever it was, it now was gone. Yet something else bothered her, and at first she couldn’t put her finger on it. It was that feeling of someone watching them. She tried to shake off the feeling, convincing herself that it was a figment of her imagination. “Did you see that?” she asked her companions, referring to the light.
“Did we see what?” Ombre strode ahead of her and yawned. “It’s been a long day of smelly swamp travel and ugly giants. Why not—” He yawned again. “We can rest here for the night. We can—continue in the morning. My word! Why do I feel so sleepy?”
Caritha yawned as well, and shook her head as if to wake herself.
Oganna’s eyelids grew heavy, and she blinked her eyes, coming to a standstill. She glanced at the spider-infested floor and walls, yet somehow she could think of nothing nicer than sitting down and leaning back her head. It would take a mere moment, just time to catch a nap. She sat on the hard tunnel floor and leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes. She shouldn’t have, she knew, but fog drifted through her mind, impairing her judgment. The viper’s head settled on her shoulder as it, too, fell asleep.
Where was she? Why had she come here? She could not remember, nor did she care.
Her sword slipped from her fingers. Her silver dress vanished, replaced by her trousers and simple blouse. The sword’s blade ceased its glow, and darkness surrounded her. Groping along the floor, her fingers touched the soft ruby pommel of the crystalline weapon. Her blood surged, and the sword blazed with light even as her magnificent silver dress covered her once again.
She stood and looked behind for Caritha and Ombre. But the tunnel was empty save for her, Neneila, and the bugs. “Uncle Ombre? Aunt Caritha? Where are you?” She searched back along the tunnel, but to no avail. “Neneila, did you see them leave?”
The serpent slicked out its tongue and shook its head, so she turned and proceeded deeper into the mountain. She could not find a sign of either of them.
Daring to call into the darkness, she listened to her voice echoing eerily through the mountain depths. No one responded. But they wouldn’t have knowingly walked on without her, and they couldn’t find their way without the light of Avenger. Maybe they did not fall asleep when she did. Perhaps when she dropped her sword and its light dimmed, they had tried to find her and lost their way. This hypothesis seemed equally absurd, and she cast it aside.
She stopped searching and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. Where should she go now?
“Psst! Mistresss?”
“Please, not now. I’m trying to think.”
The viper nudged her neck with extra vigor and slurped its tongue along her neck. “The little man. Psst! He wantsss to talk to you.”
“What little man?” She opened her eyes and spotted a skinny fairy standing on a ledge not six feet away. She stumbled back. His four semitransparent wings folded, insect-like, down his back. He was no more than twelve inches tall, blond-haired, and wore blue clothes that glinted as he waved a silver wand.
“Greetings, giant. Prince Percemon bade me come and welcome you to our realm.”
She recovered from her surprise and curtsied. “My name is Oganna.”
He swatted her introduction aside. “Follow me and don’t try anything, or your friends will not survive the night.”
“What! You’ve kidnapped them?”
The viper held its tail whiplike as if to catch the fairy, and Oganna was tempted to let Neneila sling off her neck and ensnare the little man. But if the fairy was telling the truth, then she would have to be careful not to incite violence.
Fluttering into the air, his wings beating as fast as a hummingbird’s, the fairy led her through a series of tunnels and small caverns until he brought her into a chamber different from the rest—lined with jewels, brightly lit, and inhabited by a host of fairy kind.
Lady fairies abounded, while the men were few in number. Oganna could see miniature homes built high in the chamber walls, and the plethora of jewels astonished her. The jewels amplified the light from her sword, and the air felt dry rather than clammy. One fairy, a brunette, zipped by her head, settled to the floor, and waved her little silver wand over a stone. It transformed into crystal, then changed color, creating a marvelous sapphire.
On the far wall was a fairy palace, complete with marble walls and glass windows. Multicolored steps led to its ruby doors, and two fairies rolled out a red carpet as the doors opened and a curious-looking little fellow came forth.
He had dimpled cheeks, fair skin, pitch-black hair, and tear-stained cheeks. No crown adorned his head, but he held one in his hands. He was clothed in black. Tears, black clothing—this creature was in mourning. Fairy courtiers gathered behind him in a semicircle, and twenty fairies dressed in silver armor flanked the steps to guard him. They carried spears and wore swords on their sides. If it had not been for the prince’s attire and sad expression, Oganna could have assumed that this was a gala occasion.
Her fairy guide landed in front of the prince and bowed low. The prince acknowledged him with a nod and spoke. “Sevré, you have done well.”
“Thank you, your Excellency! May I be excused now?” As the prince waved him off, Sevré flew to one of the little houses and disappeared inside.
The prince sniffled and requested Oganna to kneel so that he could speak with her. She did so, feeling no threat in his words and no animosity in his actions. “I am Prince Percemon. Welcome to Avejewel, a city of peace.”
“And I am Princess Oganna of the Hemmed Land. I have come in peace, yet what I hear disturbs me. Is it true that you ha
ve taken my companions captive?”
“Regrettably, Princess, it is true. But please understand that I felt compelled to do so. It was not by choice but out of desperation. Let me assure you that they are both unharmed and well.” He strode toward her on his spindly legs and shook his head. “It was not an act of war, Princess, or of hostility—please believe me. I only want my dear, sweet, lovely Pansy back from the volcano god. He took her—in the dark of night, right out of my palace—and has enchained her within his temple. Ah, how lovely she is! I will never again be the same, and my death will soon come, unless she is returned. You see, dear lady, we male fairies are very rare, and when we pick a mate, it is not a light decision, for if we are separated from each other, then the life flowing between us is stretched too thin and we wilt, like flowers.”
“You kidnapped my companions so that I would go and rescue your mate?”
“Yes.” He bit his upper lip. “I hate to do it this way, but I have already tried everything else. When I heard that you were traveling through our tunnels, I purposed that you could save her. If you will rescue Pansy, then I will release your companions and”—he lifted a shivering hand as if to make his offer more attractive—“I will send Sevré to guide you out of the mountain.”
“All right.” She sighed and stood. “It’s a deal.”
Such a look of relief passed over the timid fairy’s face, and from the hundreds of fluttering observers came shouts of jubilation. Despite the fact that she was being blackmailed into doing this, Oganna couldn’t help sympathizing with the fairies. They seemed so fragile, both in body and in spirit.
“Psst! Mistresss are you certain this is wise?”
“We’ll soon find out, won’t we?” She ran her eyes along the miniature faces and admired again their insect-like wings.
Sevré and another fairy, this one a female named Yveré, guided her out of Avejewel to a deep and broad cavern wherein natural steps descended deeper into the mountain. “We will bring you as far as the volcano god’s temple door.” Yveré tossed her hair and glanced at Sevré to see if he was looking.
Oganna cleared her throat to get the fairy’s attention and pointed down the stone stairway. “How far is it?”
The female fairy seemed not to hear. “Humph! Sevré, is that a new haircut?”
He beamed a smile back at Yveré. “Like it?”
“Like it?” She fluttered her blond eyelashes. “I adore it.”
“Now look here, you two.” Oganna felt like a mother dealing with her children. “I don’t have all day to find Pansy, and you’re not helping matters.” When neither of them acknowledged her, she shrugged and started walking down the steps. “Oh well, I guess I could always report you to Prince Percemon—if I have to.”
“What?” Sevré snapped into action, ignoring Yveré as she pecked him impishly on the cheek. He flew ahead of Oganna and led her down the stairs. Yveré flew close by Oganna’s ear and growled. “You think you’re smart. Do you? Humph! Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a husband these days? They’re about as scarce as—as sunshine inside the mountain.”
Poor thing, she’s a brat, but that’s probably because she’s desperate. I’ve hurt her feelings—and her pride. Trying to make amends, Oganna apologized and offered a proposition. “Yveré, if you will try not to slow down this mission, then I will help you win Sevré.”
“How?”
The fairy couldn’t conceal her curiosity, and Oganna knew that she’d won the proud creature over to her side. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll think of something.”
“Deal!” Whistling a merry tune, Yveré flew ahead and did circles around Sevré until he begged her to stop. She darted to his side, kissed him again, and giggled.
With his face turning red, the fairy continued down the stairs, warning Oganna of loose steps and crumbling stones as they went deeper. The light of her sword illuminated the cold walls of stone, and the fairies’ silver wands spread glowing dust into the darkness.
20
MAZELLA
Sleeping potion, now that’s an easy one to concoct! Two ounces of olive oil, a little sesame, and three rose petals plucked at dawn.” Sevré puffed out his little chest as he shared his knowledge, and Yveré poured compliments into his head.
“Yesiree,” the fairy was saying, “that’s the very potion—the same one, mind you—I used on the giants. Err”—he turned apologetically to Oganna—“I mean on your group.”
“So brave,” Yveré said. “But wasn’t it an awfully fearful experience?”
“No. It was exhilarating! Just like”—he thought for a few moments—“borrowing elderberry wine from the palace kitchen.”
“Ooh! How foolish of you.” Yveré left his side and flew a distance off. “If you had been caught—ooh! Foolish—very foolish!”
The silence that followed was music to Oganna’s ears. Even the viper, curled around her neck, relaxed a bit. Whew, a moment’s peace at last. Then it occurred to her that Sevré had just now, inadvertently, given her just the bargaining chip she needed to give Yveré an edge over him. By his own confession, he had stolen from the fairy prince. If the prince found out, he would be in a lot of trouble. She eyed the female fairy and laughed inwardly. It was perfect! Oganna would tell Sevré that unless he proposed marriage to Yveré, his secret would be told to the prince. She checked herself a moment, wondering what right she had to interfere with two creatures she didn’t know all that well. But if Sevré did not want Yveré, he could back out, no matter the consequences. It might be blackmail, but that was what the fairies had done to her.
She would wait for the opportune moment and present her threat. Sevré would have to be a fool to reject Yveré’s offer of silence, and besides, Yveré wasn’t that bad. He could do far worse than that starry-eyed, exciting, and energetic young fairy. Yep, they’re destined for each other. I’ll see to it.
There it was—the entrance to the “temple.” Oganna laughed aloud when she saw it. “Why, it’s nothing more than another cavern.”
Yveré clung to Sevré, shaking like a leaf. “Ooh, no. It is much more than that. Do be careful, Princess. The volcano god may not be a deity, but he is no fool. Prince Percemon himself tried to rescue Pansy, and he is a powerful master of the silver wand. He failed.”
She left the fairies behind and passed into the cavern. She now stood on a plane of solid stone surrounded on three sides by a steep drop-off. It was as though she stood on a cliff and looked down into a chasm. Lava fell in bright cascades from the walls, emptying into the chasm, and a river of the same flowed far below. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, and the lava flows dimly lit the cavern’s interior. It felt warmer in here too.
There appeared to be no one around, and she began to wonder if the volcano god would show himself. After waiting for a challenge that never came, she walked about the edge of the chasm until she discovered a narrow path leading down. After descending fifty feet, the path leveled off on a broad ledge, and she saw a small windowless hut made of wood. A neatly stacked pile of wood lay to one side of the door, and four barrels were on the other. Upon closer inspection, she discovered that the barrels had been filled with various fruits and vegetables, mostly varieties she recognized from the Swamplands.
“Who goes there?” The deep voice had come from inside the hut, and for the first time Oganna noticed a peephole set about three feet high in the door. The volcano god? She leaned down to examine the hole, and in her curiosity neglected to return the occupant’s demand.
“I says again, who goes there? Answer, or I comes to fight.”
“No, no. I don’t want to fight! Allow me to introduce myself. I am Oganna.”
Silence.
“I am sorry to trouble you,” she continued, “but I am looking for a certain missing fairy called Pansy. Could you tell me where to find her?”
“No. No, I knows nothin’ about no fairy. Not round here no ways.” The voice strained to a higher pitch, and she could tell he was lying.
“I am very sorry.” She straightened and put her hand on the door, ready to force it if necessary. “I do not believe you, and since the lives of my friends are on the line, I must insist on coming inside.”
Bolts slid into place, and she heard a chair propped against the door.
“Look now,” she said through the door, “I’m not going to hurt you, and I don’t want to ruin your home. You don’t want me to blow the door up. Do you?”
“All rights! All rights! Waits a minute. I-I do as you asks.”
With a ringing of metal, she sheathed Avenger and let the fold of her skirt fall back over and hide it. She could hear the chair sliding out of the way, and then the bolts being slid out. “You can comes in now.”
She opened the door slowly, letting her eyes adjust to the hut’s dim interior. To her surprise, the occupant was a midget, no more than three feet tall. An unkempt yellow beard matched his discolored skin, and he wore a tattered suit of animal furs. He stood with a noticeable hunch, and scars covered his wrinkled face. He was a rather unattractive individual. But she saw tears in his green eyes, and his fists were balled up, ready to fight. Behind him, on a pedestal, stood a cage of wood wherein a fairy sat sobbing.
“Pansy?” Oganna asked.
The fairy looked up, startled. Hope shone in her eyes. “You know my name?”
Oganna smiled with relief. The winged miniature woman appeared to be unharmed. “Prince Percemon sent me to rescue you. I’m here with Yveré and Sevré.”
Clasping her tiny hands together, the fairy tinkled out a laugh, and dimples showed in her cheeks. She had blond tresses longer than any of the other fairies; they fell to her ankles. White-and-green cloth interlaced over her shapely form, and little jewels glittered from the necklace around her neck and the bracelets around her wrists. “At last, I will not diminish! I will return to Avejewel.”
Key of Living Fire (The Sword of the Dragon) Page 26