Before long, there was a noisy buzzing. Two or three fierce-looking bees began to fly around their hands and faces, attracted by the sweetness of the honey. The friends swatted at the bees or darted across the clearing, while desperately trying to gobble up their lunch before more bees arrived. Lar cried out in pain, dropping his bread and honey. His hand began to swell and change from a greenish tinge to an angry dark green.
“There must be a nest nearby,” Palustric mumbled with his mouth full. Adam threw his piece of bread and honey into the grass and walked over to re-lace the pack. Lar joined him and sat unhappily on the rock, looking from two or three bees buzzing around his abandoned lunch to his throbbing hand. Palustric, who had managed to eat (in wolf-like gulps), joined them to sit on the rock.
“Perhaps we should find another place for lunch?” Palustric was never tired of bread and honey.
Suddenly, Lar stopped rubbing his swollen hand and pointed it across the clearing. Silently, as if by magic, several golden-haired elves slipped out from the long grasses. Dressed in green, they were pointing bows, drawn with silver-headed arrows, at the three companions. Adam swallowed a half-chewed piece of bread and almost choked. Like Palustric and Lar, he looked behind him, only to see more of the same elves, all with their arrows trained upon them. They were surrounded.
Adam stood up slowly and cleared his throat.
“We mean you no harm,” he said. “We are peaceful travellers, we have no arms.” He raised his hands slowly to prove his words.
An elf stepped lightly forward, lowering his bow and signalling to the other elves to do likewise. Lar stood up too and whispered to Adam: “They are Elves of Adversity. Don’t trust them, Master.” Palustric remained seated.
The elf smiled, but his eyes did not. “My name is Bane,” he said, with a slight, arrogant nod of his head. “It is your misfortune that we meet today.”
“Why?” Adam looked the elf in the eye.
“These are our lands.” The elf never stopped smiling, but his tone was cold. “You have come among us with objects which we prize greatly. I ask you to surrender them without loss of time.” As one, the elves raised their bows again, while Bane stepped towards Adam.
Adam looked into the unsmiling, golden eyes of this Elf of Adversity, where he saw no mercy whatsoever.
“I have an elven orb whilst you are an elf. For some time, I've been looking for an elf to give it to.” There was something in Adam’s voice that surprised his friends. They were even more surprised when Adam reached into his pocket and passed the orb to Bane. The elf’s lip curled into a mocking smile as he gazed at the orb in his hand. In that instant, Cari glowed red, and the elf threw the orb to the ground with a cry. He wrung his hand as if it had been badly burnt and glared at the sphere at his feet. It was no longer glowing, just shining silver in the sunlight.
“Perhaps you aren’t worthy of the orb,” Adam said quietly. “Maybe one of the others could claim it?”
Bane stared hard at Adam for a long moment. He was judging the boy’s sincerity. Finally, he turned and pointing at the sphere, called: “Travail, pick it up!” An elf left the group and crossed the clearing to Bane.
“Why me?” There was fear in his eye.
“Because, dear Travail, I have ordered you. And because you are the worthiest of this worthless band—apart from myself. Pick it up!” Bane’s lip curled even more.
“Wait!” Adam said. “The person who possesses the orb must be pure and noble. Remember that!”
Travail hesitated and looked at Bane. “I’m not worthy,” he said, angrily, “and you know it!”
Bane sneered unpleasantly, “You’ve always challenged my leadership; let’s see what kind of elf you are now!” He drew a wicked-looking knife from his belt. “Pick it up!” he commanded again. Travail glared at Bane and, bending slowly, obeyed. All eyes were on the orb, from which flashed a blue flame in the instant that the elf touched it with his fingertips. Travail howled with pain and Bane laughed spitefully. Then he turned to Adam. “It seems you must keep your orb, Stranger, but not the other inestimable object. Hand me the Key!”
“The Key doesn’t belong to you. It doesn’t belong to any elf. You have no right to it. It belongs to the dw—”
“The dwarf! He's gone!” Travail cried. “After him!”
All the elves rushed forward, leaving Adam and Lar alone in the clearing.
“He must have sneaked away while Bane was making the other one touch Cari.” Adam bent to pick up the orb and, marvelling at its coolness, replaced it in his pocket.
“Ay,” Lar nodded, “and he has the pack with him. But a clumsy dwarf is no match for a band of fleet-footed elves; I fear that Palustric must surrender the Key. We must hope that they do not slay him, Master.”
“After them, then,” Adam said grimly. They both plunged into the tall swaying grass.
Palustric calculated that he had, at most, a two-minute start. He knew that the elves were faster than him and that they were armed. Moreover, the Elves of Adversity had a bad reputation. Of all the elven races, they were the only ones capable of harming travellers. Palustric was desperate. Adam had only just regained the Key after it had been lost for centuries, and it was unthinkable that it should be lost again, so soon. Once it was in the hands of Bane and his elves, there would be no recovering it. Like all elves, they could disappear without a trace. Palustric was prepared to give his life in an attempt to save the Key from this doom.
The young dwarf tried not to panic. There was no point in running blindly through the grass. In this way, the elves would soon be on him. Palustric squatted in the grass and thought.
For Bane, Travail, and the others, it was easy to follow the dwarf. His heavy frame had left a trail of broken and trampled grasses; they could hear him crashing ahead through the whippy stems. Suddenly there was silence. Bane halted his band and listened. Silence: broken only by the occasional buzz of an insect or a bird's call and by Adam and Lar following. Bane ordered his elves to advance slowly. He was puzzled by the silence: either the dwarf had fallen or he was planning something. But what could one dwarf do against twelve elves?
Palustric followed a bee. Soon there were several, all flying in the same direction. He followed them to a hole in the ground which they entered one by one. He had found their nest. Now he had to move quickly. He unslung the heavy pack and laid it nearby. He took a knife from his belt and feverishly began cutting the long, whippy grass stems. He didn’t have much time. When he had a sizeable pile, he unlaced the pack and touched the Key of Ingenuity. Palustric closed his eyes and concentrated. Turning to the grass stems with a strange smile on his face, now he set to work, his fingers flying.
Bane and the elves could hear movement ahead of them. Warily, they nocked their arrows. When they came to a small clearing, they parted the grass silently. They could see the dwarf’s capped and jerkin-ed figure sitting motionless among some grasses at the other side of the clearing. His pack was on his back. Bane smiled grimly. The dwarf was hiding, but he hadn’t escaped them. Without a word, Bane pointed to his bow and nodded. The Elves of Adversity stepped lightly from the grasses, and eleven deadly arrows sped across the clearing. Each one thumped into the dwarf’s body; Palustric slumped lifeless to the ground.
The elves stepped forward and, in that instant, a net crafted from whippy stems fell over their heads. The elves struggled to free themselves, but the more they struggled, the more they became enmeshed. It was impossible to break such a skilfully woven net, so Bane struggled and shouted angrily, trying to make room to draw his knife.
Palustric had to hurry. He rushed over to the pack, kicking aside the jerkin-ed grass dummy pierced with arrows. Pausing only to snatch back his cap and to ram it on his head, Palustric hurriedly unlaced the pack. He pulled out the six jars of honey and placed them in a line by the pack. Taking the first jar, Palustric dashed over to the netted heap of elves. He trampled heavily over their struggling bodies, without worrying that his boot squashed an
elfin nose here and there. He found Bane first and, with great pleasure, unscrewed the lid of his jar and half-emptied it, pouring the sweet sticky liquid into Bane’s face and hair. Defenceless, with his arms pinned in the pile of elves, Bane’s curses became muffled as the honey spread slowly over his face into his eyes and mouth. Palustric emptied the other half of the jar over the elf next to Bane. The dwarf ran backwards and forwards until all the jars were empty and every elfin head was a sticky mess.
Adam and Lar crashed into the clearing.
“Quick!” Palustric shouted at his companions, who were trying to take in the scene. “Pull the arrows out of my jerkin! Get the pack, Adam! The Key’s inside.” Palustric disappeared into the tall grass.
He arrived at the hole in the ground. A bee was approaching. Palustric drew his knife and plunged it into the ground again and again. He ruined the entrance to the nest. Crying out in pain when three bees took immediate revenge on the offending hand, Palustric ran back into the clearing followed by an entire swarm of enraged bees. He ran straight towards the sticky, netted elves. The dwarf ran past them, but the bees didn’t follow their tormentor. Instead, as one, and as Palustric had foreseen, they headed straight for the struggling elves. Palustric kept running and snatched his jerkin from Adam. “Let’s get away from here!” he cried as the first screams came from the netted pile. “As fast as we can.”
They hurried away, hearing screams for some time. After a while, Adam, who could not contain his curiosity any more, burst out: “How did you manage to make that dummy and the net so quickly? It’s impossible!”
“Ingenious, eh?” Palustric laughed and suddenly looked glum. “But I made a bad mistake!”
“What?”
“I should have kept back half a jar of honey. We haven’t got any lunch now.”
“I'm fed up with honey. Far better that Bane and his elves enjoy it! They tried to kill you, Palustric.”
“Well, luckily, I'm none the worse for wear, which is more than can be said for my jerkin! The Council of Dwarves can buy me a new one. This one’s full of holes; hardly fit for a hero!”
The three friends laughed whilst Lar added, “The Elves of Adversity have become Elves in Adversity, is it not so, Master?”
Adam groaned before bursting out in the happiest laughter since he’d left his Own World.
They reached the forest’s edge by late afternoon and decided to press on along a track which led into it. Lar was exhausted. The journey was more tiring for him because he had to take three steps for Adam’s every one and Palustric’s every two.
“We'll have to stop soon.” Adam was aware of his friend’s tiredness. “What'll we do for food?”
“I shouldn't have used that honey,” Palustric blamed himself again.
Just then, as from nowhere, four figures appeared ahead of them on the track. There was no mistaking the beauty in the middle. Adam's heart leapt. Deep violet eyes looked into his and a smile lit up the lovely face.
“Welcome back, Adam, Hero of the Dwarfish Race! Come!” She held out her tiny hand. “Here you may refresh yourselves. Rest with me a while! Spinney-hall awaits you!”
Lar was already walking as if in a dream towards the elf. Tears pricked in Adam’s eyes, but they were tears of anger with himself. How could he have been so foolish? How could anyone fall in love with a mirage? His voice had a very harsh tone: “I’m sorry, Inertia, we’re far too busy to stay with you.”
It was enough. A look of pain passed across the beautiful face, and Inertia and her elves vanished like mist in the evening air.
Adam put his hand on Lar’s shoulder. “We'll stop here for the night anyway. But,” he repeated, “what’ll we do for food…?”
“Food's no problem, Adam,” Palustric said. “Pass me the pack a moment.”
The dwarf opened the pack, placed his hand inside, closed his eyes as if in deep concentration and then stood up with a strange smile on his face. He disappeared into the forest without a word to his friends.
He was gone for about twenty minutes, but when he came back, he was carrying a dead hare. “I made a clever rabbit trap—” he proceeded to tell them all about his ingenuity.
There was plenty of wood around and, of course, Adam had matches. He struck one and was about to light a fire when a thought struck him. “Last time I lit a fire, Lar appeared with a band of…ouch!” The match burnt his fingers.
“Don't worry, Adam,” Palustric laughed. “We’re not on a fairy hill now and, anyway, there’s only one Lar, thank goodness!”
Lar did an impersonation of a green raisin as he frowned at the dwarf. Then he smiled hugely and said: “Good men like me are like white crows, is it not so, Master?”
“Ay, Lar,” Adam smiled, “that is if we consider pixies to be men!”
“Pass the matches, Adam,” Palustric said quickly, fearing that a lengthy discussion might come between him and his stomach.
They ate well and slept better that night.
The next morning, they set off at dawn. The early morning sun filtered through the trees and the three companions shivered and tried to walk off the aches and pains that come from sleeping on the ground.
They had tramped along the forest track for more than two hours when they came to a mist lying low at about Lar’s chest height.
“Look,” Adam pointed, “how strange! A rose-coloured mist.”
They walked cautiously towards it, Lar sniffing the air like a wild animal.
“There’s no smell, Master.”
“It’s only mist with a trick of the light,” Palustric said and stepped forward confidently. “In any case, we have to go this way.” He couldn’t wait to get the legendary Key home and, so, take his place in Dwarfish history.
The mist suddenly enshrouded them. Instead of penetrating coldly to the bone, as mists generally do, this one was strangely warming and relaxing. They felt fine and continued walking cheerfully along the track. There was no need even to cover their mouths and noses from the misty air. Lar began singing in his high-pitched voice: a strange song from Halewood. Adam wasn’t listening; he had wandered off the track and was bending over something.
“What have you found, Adam?” Palustric asked.
“It’s an onion-shaped mushroom with green and yellow stripes. I wonder if there are any more?” Adam wandered deeper into the forest.
“Adam! Where are you? Lar!”
Lar was climbing a nearby tree. The dwarf was worried. “What are you doing?”
“There's a very strange nest in the tree, look!” Lar pointed to a round, woven nest hanging from one of the branches.
“We haven't got time for—” Palustric began but broke off when he saw some interesting paw prints in the soft ground. He followed them deep into the forest.
Adam walked alone, lost, for three days. In this time, he had given only a passing thought to his two missing friends. The mist continued unbroken, making the boy feel warm and relaxed, too relaxed to bother about anything else. His head spun with hunger and tiredness, but he ignored this, driven on by curiosity. There were so many fascinating creatures in the forest. Among other things, in three days he had observed a colony of yellow ants which spun webs like spiders; a pool of toads that sang in chorus by night; and best of all, he had watched a lone red woodpecker fell a sturdy beech. Afterwards, the same bird had settled on his shoulder for a few minutes, without pecking his head.
Towards the end of the third day, Adam emerged from the mist. Suddenly, the air was clear, and the boy had a familiar feeling. He felt as if he had just got up and was trying to shake the sleep from his body. Yet, it was evening. Adam yawned and stretched. Then he shivered in the cool air, wide awake and hungry. Where were Palustric and Lar? He looked round and called their names. The only answer was a bird’s startled call and the crash of an animal in the undergrowth. The last few days seemed hazy to him, like a dream. He remembered the mist, which must have drugged them, lulling them into wandering off into the forest. He had lost his fr
iends and a lot of time.
Suddenly, he remembered the Key. Quickly, he checked the pack on his shoulders. Everything was in order. What a relief! He could easily have left the pack lying around, deep in the forest, given that he had been in some kind of misty dream. Adam set off again along the track, wondering uneasily whether he was going in the right direction. Unfortunately, there was no moon and it was getting dark. Before long, he would be forced to stop walking. A wolf howled in the distance, and from another direction, others answered.
As he moved forward in the fading light, Adam’s uneasiness grew into a sense of oppression. He felt as if there was an unseen evil presence watching him. Several times, he stopped and looked behind him, and even though he saw and heard nothing, the feeling would not leave him. Suddenly, in front of him, a shadowy form in the half-light, a black shape, hovered over the path, not quite touching the ground. His heart missed a beat as he recognised the dark outline of the Hag. Surely, he had seen the shade of the Hag. Although she could not reach him in this Land, her evil spirit was monitoring his progress. Adam shuddered, leant against a tree where he tried to calm down: better dead, he thought, than to fall into the Hag’s clutches.
An owl screamed, and he jumped, looked around and sniffed the air. No, it wasn’t his imagination; he could smell smoke. He hurried off, hearing the owl again and made his way towards the sound and the smoky smell, which was getting stronger. Cautiously, Adam approached a clearing and placed himself behind a bushy fern. He had the Elves of Adversity in mind and wouldn’t risk losing the Key. He peered into the clearing and recognised the stockade they had built two Tuesdays ago. So, this was the same owl which had cost them a day’s travelling time.
In the half-light, Adam could just make out the small, capped head that was peering over the wooden stakes. Lar’s sharp hearing had alerted him to an intruder.
“Lar! Palustric!” Adam called happily. “It’s me!”
“Master!”
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