Ravs Are Rarely Wrong: The Kinowenn Chronicles Vol III

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Ravs Are Rarely Wrong: The Kinowenn Chronicles Vol III Page 5

by Rachel Ronning


  “No,” Gavin replied. “I haven’t noticed anything.”

  “I have,” said Justin. “It bothered me when I was here before. I expected it this time and am able to ignore it. I know it’s annoying. If there is something there, I think it is only curious. I don’t think it will harm us.”

  “I don’t sense any menace from it, but I don’t like it,” said Lucy. “It puts me in a state of alertness that is tiring.”

  “I agree,” said Taran. “Whatever it is must be magical. Most things here are. You are magically stronger than I am, so perhaps you see more than I do.”

  “Not that this isn’t interesting,” interrupted Gavin, “But more importantly, how do we know we are still going north. I have no idea which direction is where. I couldn’t get us out of here if my life depended on it.”

  “Before we left Corealanna, I put a spell on a rock in my pocket. It will tug north if I stray too far in any other direction,” said Justin. “I learned on my last visit that knowing the directions can save your life.”

  “Good idea,” said Gavin. “I feel better now.”

  “I also spelled a rock in my pocket to know which way is east,” added Taran. “If we get in trouble, I want to know which way to run,” he laughed.

  “Good to know,” said Gavin, laughing as well. “If I see you running away, I’ll follow.”

  “Well said, Gavin, but when do you ever run away from a fight?” asked Lucy.

  “I would if there were too many to fight against and win,” said Gavin defensively.

  “How many would it take to constitute that response?” asked Lucy. “With the mist this thick, how would you even see well enough to know there were too many?”

  Gavin shrugged and laughed. At this point, the conversation was interrupted by a digging noise to Taran’s left. Gavin stood up, grabbed his sword, and balanced on the balls of his feet, ready for whatever came up. Lucy pulled her boots back on and joined Justin and Taran as they stood, grabbed staffs, and waited. It wasn’t long before the dirtiest man they had ever seen appeared, again. He was about twelve inches tall, with a dirty red hat, brown matted hair and beard, and a dusty blue shirt. He drew himself up to his full height, taking advantage of every bit of his twelve inches.

  “Beware the Garden Gnome Apocalypse,” he said gravely.

  They looked at the Gnome, then at each other, then back at the Gnome. Gavin couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. The Gnome looked angry and insulted.

  “Are you the same Gnome or do you all look alike?” asked Justin curiously.

  The Gnome tried his best to ignore Gavin, but a look of recognition began to dawn on his face.

  “Have we met before?” asked the Gnome.

  “I think so,” replied Justin. “You didn’t stay long enough for introductions.”

  “Yes, in the Skelt cave,” he nodded sagely. “Are you still there?” he asked, looking around him worriedly.

  “No, we escaped,” said Justin. He was doing his best to be kind to the Gnome and perhaps find out something about him. He was trying to be respectful, but it was difficult with Gavin laughing on the other side of the fire.

  “Is this the same apocalypse or a different one?” asked Gavin amid giggles.

  The Gnome glared at him and turned his attention back to Justin.

  “If you are not in a Skelt cave, why is it so damp and cold?” the Gnome asked.

  “We are in the mists,” answered Justin.

  “The mists?”

  “Yes, the ones on the other side of the Karrenna mountain range,” Justin tried to explain.

  “The mists?” asked the Gnome again, looking worried.

  “Yes,” Justin wasn’t sure what else to say.

  “The mists?” the Gnome turned to Taran for confirmation.

  “Yes,” said Taran.

  “Oh dear,” he squeaked. “We have no dealings in the mists. Goodbye.”

  With that, the dirty man dove back into his hole and back dug his entrance. Gavin continued to shake with laughter. Taran raised an eyebrow. Lucy smiled a small smile.

  “At least he was good for a laugh,” said Lucy.

  “I wasn’t sure you were exaggerating about your first encounter. It looks like you weren’t,” said Taran.

  “Some apocalypse this will be,” said Gavin. “So far, it doesn’t include anything in the mists or Skelt territory,” he started laughing again.

  “Those seem to be the places that could use an apocalypse,” observed Taran, causing Lucy to smile and Gavin to laugh harder.

  “At least we will go to sleep in a jovial mood,” said Justin.

  Everyone agreed with him. Lucy lay awake in the tent. Every now and then she could feel Gavin shaking with mirth. His amusement made her smile. Although the garden Gnome made her laugh, she remembered what Quinn had said. Quinn had warned her not to take lightly anyone who thought they could bring about an apocalypse. Lucy, like Quinn, was inclined to take the Gnome seriously, or at least, not entirely dismiss him.

  Chapter 7

  Lucy awoke the next morning feeling clammy and cold. She had not slept well with dreams haunted by dirty garden Gnomes. Gavin was still snoring loudly, but Taran was missing. Lucy got dressed and joined Taran outside.

  “Good morning,” Taran greeted her.

  “Good morning. It’s hard to sleep through Gavin’s snores.”

  Taran nodded and handed her a bowl of porridge. She ate hungrily. She looked around their campsite. Usually, if they camped at dusk, the campsite looked different in the morning light. Unfortunately, things looked much the same, slightly hazy in all directions for about twenty feet. Everything beyond their little bubble of semi-visibility was a blank wall of mist. The morning mists had a soft, yellow glow from a determined, yet invisible, sun. During the night, the mists were much darker but glowed with a blue tint. Lucy sighed. She was not looking forward to the duration of their trip.

  “Bright and cheery this morning, isn’t it?” teased Taran.

  “My kind of day,” returned Justin coming out of the tent. He kissed Lucy and accepted a bowl of porridge from Taran. Gavin emerged shortly after Justin and began to pack up the tent.

  “How long do you think it will take us to travel all the way north?” asked Lucy.

  “If we make good time and don’t run into any trouble, we could make it in a month.”

  “A month of mist,” sighed Lucy.

  “It’s much too soon to let it get you down,” said Gavin.

  “Instead, you could think about all the things this is better than,” suggested Taran.

  “I’d rather be here than a freezing tundra,” said Lucy.

  “That’s the spirit,” laughed Gavin.

  They packed up and started walking. Justin led at a fast pace. They were all in good shape and had no problems keeping up. The more ground they covered, the sooner they would be able to go home. After what seemed like a few hours, Gavin saw a light.

  “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to their left.

  “What?” Taran asked, looking to where Gavin was pointing.

  “I wonder who that is?” asked Gavin.

  “Careful with that thought,” warned Justin. “Anyone brave enough, or stupid enough, to travel with a light bright enough to see through the mists might not be someone we want to meet.”

  “It’s moving away. Should we follow?” asked Gavin, leaning towards the light.

  “No,” said Lucy. “I don’t like it.”

  “What’s not to like?” wondered Gavin. “It’s a light.”

  “It might be a trap,” said Justin.

  “Now you sound paranoid,” said Gavin. “Since when is a light a trap?”

  “When it’s a sprite trying to lead you off a cliff, into a bog, or simply off course,” Justin suggested. “There are fish that lure prey with a light and eat them.”

  “We’re not under-water. I’d like to see what it is,” Gavin insisted.

  “No,” said Lucy, louder this time. “I
t doesn’t feel right. Remember what Corealanna said? Trust our feelings. I don’t want to follow that light. If it comes to us or after us, we can turn and face it. We don’t need to run from it, but I’m not going to follow it.”

  Although Gavin had been inclined to argue with Justin, Lucy’s honest insistence that it didn’t feel right made him agree. He nodded and continued to follow Justin’s lead. The next light appeared a mile later, this time to their right.

  “There’s another one,” said Gavin, pointing.

  They acknowledged it, but did not follow it. The third light piqued Gavin’s curiosity.

  “What if we are careful following it?”

  “No,” said Lucy adamantly.

  “What if it’s part of the army we are looking for?” asked Gavin when the fourth light appeared.

  “I don’t think it is,” said Justin. “I still think it’s a trap. It’s meant to lure us in.”

  “Also, notice how they are never behind us. They are ahead and either to the left or right. They want us to follow,” added Taran.

  “Doesn’t anyone else want to know who or what ‘they’ are?” asked Gavin desperately. He was drawn to the lights and very curious.

  “No,” answered everyone at the same time.

  They kept walking. The mists were thick and muffled sound. Their movements made almost no noise. The mist was a great concealer for friends as well as foes. It didn’t give you much warning about what or who was ahead of you. This was how they stumbled into a group of Dwarrolings. The Dwarrolings were just as startled to see them and quickly jumped up, armed and ready for a skirmish.

  “We don’t have to fight,” said Justin spreading his arms wide. His first approach always tended to be nonviolent.

  The leader assessed Justin. Like most Dwarrolings, he was pale skinned, bald, and clean shaven with dark brown eyes. Even the Dwarroling women shaved their heads. The mists were so damp that long hair could lead to scalp rot. Dwarrolings tended to be short. Not like a dwarf who was meant to be small, broad, compact, and sturdy, but like a sickly, scraggly tree that never got enough sunlight. Despite their appearance, they were wiry and strong. They favored wooden weapons like staffs, truncheons, and cudgels over metal blades that warped and rusted in the moisture. They used sling shots rather than arrows, but had a reputation for deadly accuracy.

  “Humans have no business here,” said the apparent leader of the group of nine.

  “We are traveling through and will shortly cross back over the mountains,” explained Justin. “We mean you no harm.”

  “No one travels through,” said the Dwarroling next to the leader. “They might not mean harm now, but intent and results often differ.”

  “True,” agreed Justin. “I warn you, we are not easy targets. It would be better to each let the other go on their way.”

  “I disagree. I do not trust you. If you are smart, which I’m suspicious you are, you would not trust us. Traveling through or not, you cannot afford to let us go any more than we can afford to let you go. You might decide to track us and kill us in our sleep to prevent us from returning with a larger group to kill you,” argued the leader.

  “I’m not sure I care to live in that paranoid, violent state of mind,” mused Justin. “Again, we do not have to fight. We can each go our separate ways.”

  The leader shook his head and twirled his staff. Justin sighed and readied his staff for battle. Taran and Lucy crouched in position with their staffs as well. Gavin drew his sword and smiled. He was bored with the mists and looked forward to some action. The Dwarrolings eyed them, looking for weak points, and attacked.

  Gavin, used to sparring with Taran and Justin who were both excellent with staffs, had no trouble fighting against the Dwarrolings. He dodged, blocked, spun, and attacked. Two lay dead with Gavin moving on to his next target while Justin still faced his first. Taran cracked open the skull of one Dwarroling and moved on to the next. His staff spun faster than the eye could follow. He might be a peace-loving wood worker, but that didn’t mean he was easy prey. Like Justin, he’d had a couple hundred years to overcome the qualms of killing people picking fights with him. Always try to talk your way out of a fight first. If you can’t do that, make sure you win, quickly. Lucy fought against two Dwarrolings at once. She was good with her staff, but not on Taran’s level. She was hard pressed, taking a numbing blow to the shoulder. Finally, she gave up on the staff and put her opponents to sleep. In less time than it took for the preceding conversation, seven Dwarrolings lay dead, and two were asleep.

  Justin held up two fingers to Lucy and she nodded in response. She moved to the Dwarroling with the crushed skull. She put her fingers on his chest and slowly pushed him into the ground. He dissolved as she pushed, becoming one with the dirt easily. Lucy looked up at Justin.

  “That was easy. Even easier than the Skelt. Why?” she asked Justin.

  “The lines between things are blurred in the mists. Life and death are closer here than elsewhere. The Dwarrolings dwell in collapsible huts made of earth, moss, and mud. They live closer to the earth than people on the other side of the mountains. Perhaps the earth already felt the Dwarrolings were part of it and took them back willingly,” he shrugged and moved on to the next.

  Lucy continued to consign Dwarrolings to the earth until the only two left were the ones asleep.

  “What do we do with them?” asked Lucy.

  “I don’t like the idea of killing sleeping men,” said Gavin. Everyone nodded in agreement. “How long will they sleep for?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Lucy honestly. “Justin?”

  “I don’t know either. We can spell them deeper into sleep. We can also alter their memories to forget us. They will wake up confused, but alive, in a few days. Hopefully long enough not to do us any harm.”

  They agreed this was the best plan. None of them felt comfortable killing sleeping Dwarrolings. Neither Justin nor Lucy wanted to dissolve live Dwarrolings into the earth. It was one thing to kill in self-defense. It was another thing entirely to kill a hostage, which was essentially what the sleeping Dwarrolings were. Justin worked the spells and they continued on. After twenty feet, they could no longer see the sleeping Dwarrolings. The mists closed around them, making it seem like the incident never even happened.

  They reached an area where the trees grew closer to each other. Row upon row of pine trees lined up on either side of them. Sometimes, the pines were near enough that their branches brushed against the travelers. Lucy didn’t like the wet needles. If she accidentally disturbed too many of them, cold droplets cascaded down on her head and slid down the back of her neck. She pulled the hood up on her cloak, not sure if the soggy fabric covering her head was an improvement. They stopped after a few more hours and ate lunch. Lucy winced as she took off her pack and sat down.

  “You’re hurt,” said Justin coming over to her, looking concerned.

  “I took a hit to the shoulder,” Lucy explained. “I thought I’d walk it off, so to speak.”

  “Why?”

  “It seemed too small to bother with,” Lucy shrugged and winced with the pain.

  “That’s ridiculous. Let me help. It’s what I’m good at.”

  Justin put his hand on Lucy’s shoulder and healed it.

  “Anyone else hiding injuries I should know about?” he asked.

  Everyone else shook their heads. Justin sat down and took a slice of travel bread Taran offered him. Lucy nibbled on some cheese and then ate an avila. It was a fruit Correalanna had supplied them with. It was sweet and juicy on the inside like a peach, but had a tougher layer around it like the inside of an apple, both edible. Over the second layer, the skin was tough, like an orange. It was good travel food. Easy to carry, protected by its skin, ripe and nourishing for a long time, and filled with moisture, it tasted amazing. Lucy decided it was her new favorite fruit.

  “You should have Philip plant some avila trees,” she told Taran.

  “That’s a good idea. I don’t k
now how well they would grow, but it’s worth a try. It only grows in this area so few people on the other side of the mountains have had the fruit. There is sure to be a lucrative market for it once word spreads. Save all the seeds you can. Philip will enjoy that kind of challenge,” agreed Taran. “I have no idea if it makes good jam or is best picked and eaten as is.”

  Lucy yawned. The mists made her drowsy. They had had a busy day. She supposed she was worn out from walking, fighting, getting hurt, and using magic to dispose of the Dwarrolings. She wanted to lie down and nap. She noticed the others yawing and stumbling along as well. All she wanted to do was close her eyes for a minute. Only a minute.

  Lucy grew suspicious. Was it the mists or something else? Her eyelids wanted to close. She bit her lip, hoping the pain would wake her up a little. It didn’t. She tried to make herself talk. Only mumbles came out. No one responded. Part of Lucy’s brain told her not to worry and go to sleep. The other part screamed at her that something was wrong. Suddenly her finger burned with intense pain. She woke up and registered that Corealanna’s ring was glowing. Magic, she thought. Magic! Alarm bells rang in her head. Eric had tried to force them to understand the significance of always using shields. She hadn’t been using shields. How stupid of her. There hadn’t been a need until now. She always had shields up that should stop a dagger or an arrow. Those were second nature to her, but she should have put up shields against magic as soon as they entered the mists. She shook her head and slammed up shields against magic.

  She felt better immediately. Suddenly alert, she looked around her. Gavin was snoring deeply, Taran’s eyelids were fluttering, and Justin’s head was bobbing towards his chest. She threw out her senses and found something moving towards them. She couldn’t tell what it was, but it was magical and sending out sleep signals in front of it to incapacitate its prey. She put shields around her friends and got ready to fight whatever was coming. With the shields in place, her friends began to stir. Taran fought off the spell first and jumped up looking alarmed once he saw Lucy in an alert fighting stance.

 

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