“That was a miserable night. Sleep was out of the question. Missie wrapped herself in the comforter and sat in the old armchair. It wasn’t until early morning that she dozed off for a few minutes.
“When the birds started singing, she sprang to her feet and ran downstairs to fix breakfast for two. Walking onto the porch, she peered through the morning mists before rushing back to the kitchen to cover the food so it would stay warm. Then she wandered through the cottage to the porch to peer through the mists again, before returning to the kitchen for a cup of tea.
“It was hard to stay in one place. Missie lost count of how many trips she made between the kitchen and porch. Finally Reidan pushed his way out of the forest. He was unharmed except for several deep scratches.
“‘The Stalker is dead,’ he called and told Missie his story as she led him inside and took care of his scratches.
“After I entered the wood, I changed my plan. I realized that I couldn’t hope to surprise the Stalker in trees he knew better than I did, and it was important not to give him time to throw one of his paralyzing powders in my face. He was reported to live under the wood’s mountain, so I went straight there and scouted about until I found a door at the bottom of a rocky cliff. Then I hid nearby. My plan worked up to a point. When he showed up in the early morning gloom, I leaped out of hiding and challenged him.
“‘He drew his sword, but then instead of using it to fight me, he withdrew into his cave. I followed quickly, thinking he was on the run, but stopped short as soon as I stepped inside. I had made a big mistake. The Stalker had thrust his sword into a large urn full of a glowing red paste and was pulling it out, thickly coated and glowing so brightly it hurt my eyes. He pointed the sword toward the ceiling and shook it. Instantly, the paste burst into flames that exploded upward, charring the rafters of the roof.’
“‘Then he lowered the blistering flames toward me. I leaped backward, lost my balance, and fell to the ground outside the cave. He laughed at my futile attempt to escape, but before the flames could reach me, a giant crashing noise startled both of us. I was able to scrabble backward out of harm’s way, but the Stalker was not so fortunate. The rafters he had burned collapsed on top of him, carrying with them a ton of dirt and rocks. He was buried in his own home.’
Missie shuddered, finished cleaning Reidan’s scratches, and told him to rest on the sofa in the sitting room while she put breakfast on the table. When she returned, the prince was fast asleep. She tiptoed away and, hungry with relief, ate the whole breakfast herself. Then she went about her day’s work, scrubbing the chicken coop, weeding a few garden spots, straightening up around the cottage, and taking a much-needed nap upstairs.
Early in the evening, Reidan woke feeling refreshed and hungry. He ate ten scrambled eggs and almost that many pieces of toast covered with strawberry jam before pushing back from the table.
“‘I must return to my people,’ he said. ‘They’ll be worried. I wish you would come with me, Missie. My mother would make you very welcome. I know you like it here, but … I wish you would come.’
“Before Missie could reply, the hens started squawking and there was the thud of galloping hooves. Missie and Reidan hurried out to the porch, where they found two horses blowing and snorting in front of the cottage.
“‘Hello again,’ Missie greeted the bay mare who had brought her to the cottage.
“‘The Maker’s horses,’ Reidan said in astonishment. ‘Two of them,’ he added, glancing hopefully at Missie.
“‘Yes, well, I think so,’ she said.
“They left soon after that. Missie spent several minutes trying to coax the cat into coming with her, but it wiggled out of her arms and plopped down on the porch floor as if to say, ‘This is where I belong!’ Then it watched them leave with the bored interest only a cat can show.
“Night had fallen by then, and the stars were bright overhead. Missie took a deep breath of the cool night air, reveling in her freedom. She and the prince cantered along the garden walk, but she couldn’t resist reining in at the forest’s edge and looking back at the cottage. She would never see the yellow roses now, but that was okay. There would be other flowers. A deep feeling of thankfulness welled up in her heart.
“‘Come,’ Reidan said gently, ‘let’s go home.’
“They entered the forest and began a new adventure together.”
Chapter 15
The Brute
Petten quit talking. The fire crackled, making everyone stir, and Alissa asked sleepily, “Did Missie do what the Maker wanted her to do? Did she remind the people of Montaland about him?”
“Here we are. We know what he did for us in the other world. She must have,” Luff said.
Nobody responded. The story had accomplished its purpose. They were relaxed enough to sleep now. Alissa and Janna curled close together on the leaves. Janna gave one big yawn, then both girls began breathing in the slow rhythm of sleep.
“I’ll take the first shift tending the fire,” Luff announced. When Petten started to protest, he shook his head. “You told the story while I rested. It’s my turn.”
Nodding, the scout settled on the ground, and Luff immediately yawned in belated response to his daughter’s yawn. He sat up straighter in an effort to stay awake.
On the far side of the fire, Cook spoke in a gruff voice. “Fernpeople don’t need much sleep. You rest. I’ll keep the fire going.”
The weary man didn’t argue. “Wake me in a couple of hours. I’ll take the next turn.” Soon, his peaceful snores joined the fire’s crackling.
Cook sat heavily where she was. Throughout the rest of that night, she sat, except when the fire needed her to throw more wood on it. She took every shift and let the others sleep. The tears that had begun in the middle of Petten’s story trickled down her green-veined cheeks, but no one sleeping around the fire knew of them.
Early the next morning, the sun rose in a cloudless sky, a rare occurrence for the mountain world. There wasn’t even a lot of morning mist except for a slight accumulation in the valley beneath them. Alissa found a blackberry bush on the edges of the stream when the girls went to get a drink of water. There were enough ripe blackberries to give everyone a handful, but a handful of berries wasn’t a very satisfying breakfast.
The story had lulled Janna into sleep, but as soon as she woke, she realized that by now the Fern Queen not only knew they’d escaped, but that they’d gotten away with it—so far. She’d be livid. Her personal attendants would have cuts on their cheeks from where she’d struck them.
Janna’s stomach twisted into a tight ball. Picking the blackberries for breakfast had made sense, but now she wanted them to leave. She did not want Petten to insist on hiding their campsite.
The others were feeling the stress too. Alissa’s face was drawn—it was still beautiful, Janna noted, just drawn. Luff was rushing from fireplace to stream, putting each fire-blacked rock upside down in the water, as instructed. Petten was combing the grass where they’d slept with his fingers. She guessed he was making each blade wave right or something.
Cook was sitting off to one side. Janna had noticed her tear-reddened eyes that morning. It would have been hard not to notice them. The overall effect of dull red on dull green was ghastly. However, nobody spoke to her about it. She obviously wanted privacy more than comfort.
Even Janna had left her alone, though that was not due to tact as much as past experience. Cook never talked when she had a closed-door face. It was pointless to try, and, besides, Janna had other people to talk to this morning, people who might actually respond.
Once she’d finished her job of scattering leaves over the path they had made to the berries, Janna wanted badly to talk about something positive. It would relieve her stress. It would relieve everyone’s stress, she decided, and plunged into conversation.
“We woke free this morning instead of trapped in that stinky little room,” she pointed out.
Alissa tried to smile at her with partial s
uccess. Luff nodded, but Petten kept right on combing the grass. Come on, people, loosen up.
“Yesterday morning, we were prisoners. It seems longer ago than that,” Janna tried next. This time she got a response, though nobody agreed with her.
“Not to me,” Alissa said.
Luff shook his head and grunted as he put the last fire-blacked rock in the stream, but Petten quit combing the grass and frowned.
“We’re doing our best to hide where we slept and a casual observer wouldn’t notice,” he told the group at large, though Janna was sure he was targeting her. “However, if the Fern Queen’s woodsmen are on our trail, they’d know at a glance, and any of their tracking dogs could pick up our scent.”
Janna could tell he was surprised they hadn’t already been found. She caught his eye and scowled. There was no need to make everyone even more nervous. Petten didn’t respond verbally to her facial rebuke, though he lost his frown for some reason.
“This morning, we’ll walk next to the stream instead of in it,” he continued. “We might make better time.” The doubt in his voice earned him another scowl from Janna.
His face lightened, but it was too late as far as Janna was concerned.
“We’ll show you,” she muttered with resolve, but even out of the slippery streambed, they didn’t go very fast. Tree roots, large rocks, and densely growing bushes were in their way, and the climb was steep enough to slow them down even without the obstacles.
Laboriously, they made their way up the mountain. Everyone except for Petten was out of breath, and everyone, including Petten, was anxious about their slow pace. Janna kept turning to see if the Fern Queen’s woodsmen were catching up with them, which made her feel more and more annoyed with Petten. She’d already known about the woodsmen; the whole group had already known. So why mention them! There was nothing they could do but keep going.
Petten and Luff insisted on going last in case of an attack. Cook trudged along in front of them. Janna and Alissa had started walking on either side of her, but they couldn’t help being younger and faster. Before long, they found themselves well out in front of everyone else, where Janna could chat off her nervousness without feeling criticized. Alissa was much more obliging than Petten, and furthermore, as they chatted, the golden princess did relax.
Ha, I was right, Janna thought, directing the internal comment toward Petten.
Cook had been wonderful, the girls agreed, and an amazing answer to their cry for help. What a relief that Janna’s father had been freed with them!
“I was about to go after him, although the thought of entering that hallway almost killed me,” Janna admitted.
“I could not have done it,” Alissa said with a shudder.
“Oh yes, you could have. If it had been your father, you would’ve gone.”
Alissa nodded. “That is true. I would have been given the strength I did not have.”
Janna hadn’t thought of that angle. She’d been pretty pleased at her self-sacrificing response, especially since it hadn’t had to be put into action.
“I was going to do it,” she mentioned again.
“I know you were. You were very brave!”
Janna’s ruffled feelings were soothed by the praise, and Alissa went on to say, “Petten was wonderful too. He knew where we should go, he built the fire, and he cheered us with the story. We are fortunate to have such a fine scout with us.”
“Yes, getting you two together has been the bright spot in this ordeal,” Janna readily agreed and then wanted to bite her tongue.
Alissa was shaking her head. “We are only friends.”
“Oh no, you’re not. You’re meant for each other.” Janna was horrified by this uncooperative attitude. Hadn’t Alissa read the old romances?
“I think you may have read too many of the old love stories,” Alissa replied gently.
What! Nobody could possibly—but hold on. Be careful. Alissa needs more time; that’s all.
“We’ll see,” Janna said and was pleased at how adult the remark sounded. “I just hate being the reason you and Petten didn’t get to know each other better when you first met. I mean, really—how many people do you know who have fallen down a waterfall? It’s so stupid.”
Alissa shook her head again. “Now that is a big bowl of ’banzo beans.”
Janna stared at her. She had heard the expression before, Mount Pasture being a partial-farming kingdom, and it was true that Green Waters was a kingdom of gardeners. Still—‘banzo beans’? From Alissa? That’s not right.
“You do not seem to realize what a delightful person you are,” Alissa was saying. “I wish I could be more like you.”
If she widened her eyes any farther, Janna knew they would pop out.
“You have got to be kidding!”
Alissa laughed in loving exasperation. “You are able to express yourself clearly. I have been trained to tell a story and to talk courteously, but I have never been able to share my thoughts and feelings. I can talk in this fashion to you now because you have showed me how.”
“Sheep muck!” Janna blurted out and once more wanted to bite her tongue. I can’t believe I said sheep muck in front of Alissa.
“Alissa, you’re the most perfect—” she started but then stopped, because the most perfect princess in the mountain world wasn’t paying any attention to her. She was staring over Janna’s shoulder, and tension was back in her face.
That meant Janna had to turn around and look too. Below them, the others were standing very still beside the stream. They seemed to be listening intensely. Alissa and Janna glanced at each other in fear. They didn’t dare call out in case an enemy was near, but they lost no time in retracing their steps to join their friends.
“What is it?” Janna whispered to her father as she reached him.
“We heard dogs howling,” he answered in a low voice.
Janna shivered. Her stomach jerked convulsively.
“Keep going,” Petten said shortly, motioning them on. “We need to get out in the open.”
Janna glanced around. She’d been too busy talking to notice how high they had gotten. The trees were thinning out.
“But we could climb a tree to get away,” she argued, even as she climbed with the others.
“The trees are too low here to provide much protection, and we need to see all around us. These dogs are trained to attack their prey from different directions,” Petten said.
The scout grimly grabbed a fallen branch and stripped it as he went. Luff and Cook had found sturdy sticks long ago to help them walk. Luff gripped his stick determinedly, and Cook struggled to go faster.
Suddenly, Petten jerked his head to one side, though he didn’t quit hurrying them up the mountain.
“What is it?” asked Luff.
The scout didn’t answer right away, giving Janna time to groan, “What now?”
“There’s an animal moving alongside of us,” Petten finally said. “A big one. Keep going.”
“We already are,” grumbled Janna.
She didn’t want to hear about some big animal stalking them on the side, not while they were being followed by the Fern Queen’s ferocious hunting dogs.
They climbed for five more minutes, then Cook staggered. Janna grabbed one of her arms before she could fall, but she was worried. The fernwoman had a hand on her chest again. Her face was pale under its green welts, and she was panting painfully.
“There they are,” Luff said.
Everyone looked, even though that meant they slowed down. They couldn’t help it. Well below them, but still too close, two big dogs had come into view. When the dogs caught sight of their quarry, they broke into feverish howls and charged up the mountain as if it were level ground.
“Come on, Cook,” said Janna, tugging at her arm, but Cook shook her head, then sank to the ground.
At the same moment, seemingly out of nowhere, a dog that dwarfed the other dogs charged at them from one side. Janna didn’t know how such a large dog
had stayed hidden, but evidently, stealth was now over. They were being attacked from two directions, as Petten had predicted.
“Maker,” Alissa called, and Janna quickly echoed the call, only she screamed it in case the Maker needed the extra volume in order to hear.
The dogs from below were coming fast, but the giant dog from the side was faster. It would reach them first. Janna watched it with horrified fascination. It had a dark brown body smudged with gold in a distinctly unattractive pattern. Its mouth was open, which showcased an impressive array of big teeth.
“The Brute,” muttered Petten in dismay as he gripped his stick tighter.
The girls gasped. They’d heard of the Brute. The dog had a worse reputation than the Fern Queen’s dogs. He lived in the woods, hunting his own food and breaking loose whenever anyone tried to confine him. The fernmen accepted the Brute’s peculiarities because he was the best tracking dog they’d ever known. On several occasions in the past, they had figured out a way to make use of his skills.
Now he had tracked down the five friends. Everyone stiffened with dismay. Cook struggled to her feet. Petten faced the rapidly approaching dog, brandished his stick, and yelled defiantly. At his side, Luff took a firm hold on his walking stick and waited.
“No,” said Janna, but nobody heard her.
“No!” shouted Cook, pushing past the two men. “Don’t hurt him.”
This was such an astonishing thing to say under the circumstances that every eye turned to her. Dropping her stick, Cook held both hands out to the dog, who was quite close by then.
“Caramel,” she crooned.
The big hulk of a dog flattened his ears back against his head, positively grinning in delight. He danced up to Cook with the unmistakable adoration of a dog for its best beloved friend.
There was no time for relief. The other dogs were too close. The Brute transformed from adoration to outrage and roared his way down the mountain to meet the attacking dogs.
Janna didn’t want to watch, but she couldn’t turn away. The Brute was bigger, but there were two against him, and they were fierce dogs that knew how to fight. One of them met the Brute directly, while the other dove for a back leg. The Brute simultaneously whipped his hindquarters away and ripped the throat of the dog facing him. That dog went down, but the one on the ground had slashed the Brute’s leg, even if he hadn’t managed to break it. Bounding up, the hunting dog grabbed the Brute’s neck, making the watchers cry out in horror.
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