Mary looked at Stripes and smiled, remembering flicking him onto Fuzz's ear those years ago. Presently Edward and Laora appeared at Spark's side like a pair of little phantoms, waiting for hugs. Tors and Kast sat up at nearly the same time as the whole camp began stirring. Within an hour everyone was up and fed, ready to be on his way. It was bright and still, quite warm for winter.
Spark took one last look at the Chokewoods before leading the procession off to the Valley of Illusions and the Cyclops Plateaus. “Especially since you're helping me lead, you two need to know that you might see anything in the Valley of Illusions, from ordinary things to crazy things and even terribly scary things, but most of the scary stuff is no more real than your dreams,” he said, as Laora and Edward came scampering alongside.
“But I thought some dreams were true visions, Papa,” said Laora, taking his hand and squeezing it.
“Well, occasionally they are and once in a while something frightening in the Valley of Illusions turns out to be real,” said Spark. “You've got to be careful in a couple of ways, I'd say. You need to remember not to be frightened and you need to be wary in case something scary doesn't go away.”
“You just mean that we'll probably see lots 'o things that aren't real,” she said, swinging his arm as she skipped along.
“Exactly, but remember I've never been there.”
“Where do the unreal things come from?” said Edward.
“I have no idea. I'm not sure anyone has. Mary might.”
“Well Mary, did you hear that?” said Edward, speaking out.
“What?” she said, picking her way between tussocks of grass. “Are you asking if I know what causes the illusions?”
“Yeap.”
“Spark knows every bit as much as I do on that one,” she said. “Nobody knows what causes them. All that's known is that the valley is enchanted. When it was made that way or by whom remains a mystery. People do know what it's like to go through there. It seems to some that the things a person is thinking about have something to do with what he sees, though that doesn't explain why several people might see the same thing at once.”
“I know,” said Edward. “Maybe the magic in the valley is an answer to the person whose thoughts are the strongest at that time.”
“You know Edward,” said Mary, as she traded wide eyed looks with Spark, “you just might have figured out something.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” he said with a shrug.
The procession shuffled along in silence for a good while as the sun climbed overhead and the downs became more hilly. Eventually the path meandered between a pair of especially prominent hills, the beginnings of two great ridges. The party traipsed on, wending between them, eyeing the heights on either side, but not saying much.
A fog began to gather as the sun faded in a murky haze. As the fog thickened, Myrtlebell, dressed in a ghostly white gown, stepped into the path before them.
“Momma?” croaked Edward. “Is that really you? I thought you were dead!” He bolted forth, arms outstretched as she kneeled to scoop him into her embrace.
“Edward!” cried Laora, leaping into the air.
“Momma!” cried Edward as he threw his arms around Myrtlebell, who collapsed and tumbled to the ground in a clatter of bones as her vacant-eyed skull rolled to a stop. “Momma!” he screamed out in a horror of despair, as her bones collapsed into powder.
At once Laora was on the ground, holding and rocking him as he wailed and shook with sobs, calling out to Myrtlebell over and over.
Spark and Mary were there at once. Mary put her arms around the pair of them and held on while Edward slowly calmed to sniffles and shuddering sighs.
“Let Arwr bear the pair of them,” said Ceidwad quietly as she carefully came and began delicately preening at Edward's hair.
“Damned Valley of Losin's!” said Edward, speaking out with a shudder that grew to a furious shout. “I'll not let you get away with that! You're rotten, rotten, rotten! An' we're going to march right through you! You hear?”
Arwr knelt and soon Edward and Laora were fast asleep on his back.
“Sstrong young man,” said Shot 'n' Stop, as he slithered alongside Spark. He had swallowed a fair sized chunk of sukere in the bottom of Tors's bag and now felt up to travel on the ground. “And that wass a rotten trick to play on him. What happened to hiss mother, anyway?”
“Spitemorta got her with the Great Staff.”
“The younger Ugleeuh?”
“That's right. She blasted her head off. The poor little fellow's an orphan. And you know? It was also Spitemorta who murdered his father before he was born.”
“Thiss young Ugleeuh ssoundss worsse than the old one.”
“Oh, I do believe she is.”
“Then, I'm verry ssorry that I didn't get her sstrangled. I'll make scertain I get her nexst time.”
Suddenly they were startled by Mary's shriek of alarm at the sight of Ugleeuh taking diving passes at them on her broom.
“I thought you strangled her, Shot 'n' Stop!” hollered Kast.
“Thiss iss another apparistion, Kasst,” hissed Shot 'n' Stop, as Ugleeuh swooped by, just overhead.
“And you're undeniably certain that she's dead?”
“Abssolutely. And sso iss the apparistion, kiddo,” said Shot 'n' Stop as Ugleeuh winked out in the midst of a pass.
Suddenly everyone looked up at the pounding of a huge galloping dragon, hurtling down the grassy slope of the nearby ridge, headed right for the rocky outcrop directly above them. With a chorus of screams and squeals everyone scattered.
“Razorback!” cried Tors as he turned tail and fled, leaving Kast standing paralyzed at the sight of the hideous brute bearing down on him. At the top of the outcrop, the huge dragon leaped. Kast stumbled and rolled, as the dragon hit the ground on the far side of him and vanished with a thundering boom. Kast tried to stand at once, but his legs gave way, giving him another tumble.
“Are you all right?” cried Tors, running up to him with Spark.
“I guess so,” he said between gasps, “if I can keep my heart from jumping out of my throat and running away. That was a vision with clout. I wish these things were a little more nightmare-like and less real.”
“You know what's really strange about that?” said Tors. “This big rock that Razorback knocked loose to come all the way down hill is real.”
“Well, I'm glad he didn't land on me then, even if he did disappear into thin air.” said Kast, as he peered at the ridge while finally managing to get to his feet. “Look 'way yonder. Who do you suppose that is?”
“That's strange,” said Spark, as he studied a man in rags, struggling to roll a huge rock up the slope. “He's looks like he's a good furlong farther away than where we first saw Razorback, out in plain sight, yet this is the first time I've noticed him.”
“You notice where we are,” said Tors.
“Yea, but an illusion so far away,” said Kast. “Why on earth would he be up there trying to roll a stone uphill?”
“We're headed past the bottom of the slope where he is,” said Spark, “why don't we all just start walking again and see what we see as we go by?”
It wasn't long until everyone was nearly below the man with the stone. Suddenly near the top of the ridge, the man lost control of the big rock and it came bounding down the slope, clean to the bottom. Everyone gathered near the rock and waited as the man in rags loped and scrambled downhill.
“Well, it's a real rock, all right,” said Tors, as he picked up a small stone and pecked on it.
Presently the man in rags came jogging up. “Ah! My damned rock,” he said, otherwise ignoring everyone as he came around behind it and prepared to put his shoulder to it. “Again and again and again.”
“What are you doing, kind sir?” said Tors.
“Why I'm getting ready to roll this rock up to the top,” said the man, heaving a huge sigh. “It's my job. The only problem is that each time I'm right near the top, it gets away
from me and I have to come clear down and start all over again. You can't imagine how weary I am.”
“Pardon me sir,” said Tors, “I don't mean to sound at all impertinent, but could you please tell me: are you real or are you an illusion?”
“Oh, I'm quite real. It's only my goal that's an illusion.”
The procession stood in stunned silence, watching the man start the laborious business of rolling his rock uphill once again.
After a time, Tors broke the silence. “How much further do you reckon we have to go to get out of here?” he said.
“I've no idea at all,” said Spark. “I've always gone around each time. Mary might know.”
Mary looked up then studied the lay of the land for a moment. “I'd say we should be fairly well out of the illusions in anywhere from half a league to ten leagues...”
“What?” said Tors, “Am I hearing you right?”
“Well, what I mean is there's no way to know,” she said, “I know that we're going the right way, but the illusions interfere so much that one simply can't know how long it takes.”
“You mean it could take days and days?”
“No, strange as it sounds, I stand by what I just said. But anyway, the valley simply runs on for a piece and then we come out on the Cyclops Plateaus.”
“Good,” said Kast. “Maybe if we're lucky we won't have endure more than another illusion or two.”
“And,” said Spark, “if I'm not mistaken, here it comes.”
Everyone looked ahead to where the path dropped out of sight beyond a high place in the valley floor, where woods and meadows began. They could hear galloping hooves and see dust rising into the light breeze. Presently, a one-eyed boy riding a young centaur came up over the rise and halted a few rods in front of them, conspicuously frightened.
“Well that's a switch,” said Spark. “They don't know whether we're an illusion or not. Fates! They're going 'o run off if we don't do something.”
“I will,” cried Laora, as she sprang into the air without asking. She flew over them, causing the centaur to rear, and landed in the path just beyond them. “Hello,” she said politely as she began walking toward them. “Please don't be afraid and run away. My name's Laora and I want to be friends.”
“But you're a dragon!” cried the young centaur “And everyone knows that dragons eat Cyclopses and centaurs.”
“We do not,” she said with a frown. “Who's the everyone who told you that lie?”
“I don't know,” he said, casting an uncertain glance at the Cyclops astride his back. “It's just what everyone says.”
“Well, it's ignorant and it's a big, fat lie!” she said angrily. “We never eat intelligent beings.”
By now the procession had eased up close and were gathering around the Cyclops and the centaur.
“I'm Mary the White,” said Mary with a warm smile. “These are my friends and I assure you, not one of them means you harm.”
“I'm Spike,” said the centaur, before giving his head a toss at the boy on his back, and this is Ownlee. We aren't supposed to play in the Valley of Illusions. We thought you were illusions, but...” he gave a big eyed shudder as he looked at Spark, Tors, Kast and
Shot 'n' Stop.
“We'd never harm you, I promise,” said Mary with all the kindness of a sunny May day. “Surely you realize that you seem right strange to us? You frightened us at first, too.”
“I heard that exact thing from some two eyed people once before,” said Ownlee with a laugh. “They were a brother and sister from Niarg and I was real little and I was where I wasn't supposed to be then, too.”
“That's quite a coincidence. The dragons and I are on our way to Niarg.”
“I guess that's a two eyed place.”
“Well, do you remember who this brother and sister were, Ownlee?”
“Oh, I'd never forget them. But I guess they forgot me, 'cause they promised to come back and see me, but they never did...”
“But do you remember their names?”
“Rose and Lukus.”
Everyone went wide eyed at this. “You know Rose and Lukus?” said Spark.
Ownlee nodded. “They rescued me from a cave and returned me to my parents,” he said. “So you know them, too?”
“We know them well,” said Spark. “They're good friends to all of us, and I can't imagine that they've really forgotten you.”
“Well then, Spike and I bid you welcome to the Cyclops Plateaus,” he said, doffing his hat. Spike then followed suit with a polite nod.
“Thank you,” said Spark, but we're still in the Valley of Illusions, aren't we?”
“See that table topped hill right yonder?”
“Yes...'way yonder...”
“That's the beginning of the plateaus and the beginning of the south eighteen acres of our place. We farm.”
“I say Spike,” said, Tors. “You keep looking us dragons over as though something disturbs you. Is there a problem, lad?”
“Oh, my,” said Spike, blushing at once. “I'm very sorry. I mean, I'm right curious, sir. I've heard all sorts of stories about dragons, but you all are the very first which I've ever met. So may I ask, begging your pardon of course, why has the little girl dragon wings and feathers, while you and the other two adults do not? I thought all dragons were able to fly.”
“You've been right all along,” said Tors with a huge sigh. “All dragons do have the ability to fly, unless they've been deformed by an evil wizard, as was our entire clan except for my nieces and nephews.”
“Oh,” said Spike, blushing even more scarlet than before. “I'm sorry.”
“Well,” said Ownlee, “we're going to be in big trouble if we don't get back on top, so please, won't you all follow along for a visit? I'm quite certain Mater and Pater and my little brother would love to meet all of you and hear news of Rose and Lukus. Actually they'd be very disappointed if they didn't get to.”
“Well then,” said Spark. “I believe everyone's ready.”
“Yahoo!” cried Ownlee, flushing a vast flock of passenger pigeons from the trees round about. “Follow us!” And with that, Spike wheeled 'round and pranced forth, leading the enchanted procession out of the Valley of Illusions.
Chapter 98
Each troll morning (as Demonica and Spitemorta began calling nightfall), Spitemorta would fly from ship to ship and address the trolls who would all have just awakened by this time.
“Phnyr-fn-dyrney!” roared Spitemorta, as she thrust her fist at the starless sky.
Hoots, guttural cheers and stamping broke out on the crowded decks of the Sea Jewel to fall silent at once as she raised her arms. These trolls were especially exuberant, since they had the privilege of sharing the particular ship of their exalted goddess.
“When the moon is full again, we will reach the shores of Gnyr-jan ntu Afajoy!” she rumbled. “And we will indeed be in the land of Plenty to Eat...!”
Cheers erupted.
Again she raised her arms. “Gnyr-jan ntu Afajoy is the land of the very Elves who shamed your ancestors!
There you shall set upon them with the stealth which makes you proud and again you will joyously feast on Elf flesh...!”
The trolls went wild, cheering, stamping and dancing about.
Spitemorta had to wait for some time for them to calm down enough for her to continue. As she was waiting, she glanced across the deck at Demonica, who glared back at her with an insistent nod. “Yes, yes, Grandmother,” she muttered with a sullen sigh as she looked away. “There's no need, but I will, just to shut you up about it.”
The trolls had finally quieted enough to fall silent when Spitemorta raised her arms. “I must warn you that there is a possibility that we will have to deal with a small threat...”
A rumble of alarm coursed through the multitude, but she raised her arms commandingly and silenced it. “Fear not Phnyr-fn-dyrney! It would be a small threat, if you have it at all. If you have to bother with it, it will trouble you no m
ore.
“In the north of Plenty to Eat live weakling Humans who are allies of the Elves. They may come to protect the Elves when you begin to hunt them. As goddess, I amuse myself in my leisure by being queen to Humans who live south of the Elves. If the northern Humans move to protect the Elves, I will send forth my southern army. They should manage everything, but if they do not, you will need to help them clean up the northern mess. Then you will be free to feast on Elves forever...”
The trolls thundered with cheers as they held out worshipful arms to her.
“Now, what's the matter with her?” she said as looked across at Demonica. “Can't she take all of this adoration of me? Well, she'll just have to get used to it. The Humans of Loxmere-Goll are on the verge of doing this, too.”
After a time she held up her arms. “I've had a feast prepared for you, Phnyr-fn-dyrney. The cooks have spared no pains to prepare a feast of roasted hogs to remind you of Elf flesh. Go! Eat! Enjoy! I will speak with you again, soon.”
And with that, she mounted the Staff with Demonica and flew to the next ship.
***
After spending the night in a pair of Cyclops barns with Ownlee and Spike, the procession of enchanted creatures found themselves wending their way out of the Cyclops Plateaus into the gorgeous broad valley which lay between the plateaus and Bratin Brute. It was overcast but still and quite mild for a winter day.
“Right yonder lies the border, according to what the Cyclopses were saying, Spark,” said Tors, pointing to the carpet of forest at the far end of the valley.
“Must be...”
“Well, what about King Theran? He's Edward's grandfather, right?”
“Yea...?” said Spark, seeing that more was coming.
“Do you reckon he knows anything about Myrtlebell's death? In fact, do you suppose he even knows anything about Edward? What if he does? I mean, what if he does and tries to make Edward stay there or something?”
Mary caught this and angled her way over at once to walk alongside them.
Spark gave a whistle and stared off into the distance. “Boy! You know, we just might be right in the middle of a ticklish situation,” he said. “And to begin with, this hit me completely off guard. King Edmond's dead, Myrtlebell's dead and Edward's an orphan, and beyond that I never gave it a single thought. It never occurred to me to figure back a generation. Good grief! Does that make him the direct heir to the throne of Bratin Brute as well as second in line to Loxmere's?”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 107
