Heart of the Staff - Complete Series

by Carol Marrs Phipps

  An immediate deafening pop made everyone jump, as webs and forks of searing white fire flickered across his body, sending up a crackling smoke as he collapsed and fell sideways off the stone. There he lay, before everyone's shocked silence, the smoke from his cauterized boils roiling and spreading out under the white vaulted ceiling. Suddenly he began shaking and jerking convulsively.

  “He's alive!” cried Karl-Veur as he dropped to his knees at his side to discover with a tentative touch that his hair was all singed to crumbling ash.

  “Serjeant,” cried Azenor, as he too knelt to find everything about Yann-Ber's person burnt and blackened, “fetch the healers now!”

  ***

  Yann-Ber opened his eyes to the calls of doves and found himself in an airy, well lit room, pungent with an odd mingling of healing herbs and ointments.

  “Thank the Fates!” said Rose softly as she lightly patted the loose covers over his his bandaged hand. “Fuzz, he's stirring.”

  Yann-Ber slowly lifted his other hand enough to see that it was bandaged.

  “You probably don't want to move,” said Fuzz. “They've got you bandaged everywhere. You were burnt all over. They said your father and brother set you on a stone that was like having you struck by lightning. Your brother mentioned your curse to the healers, but they just couldn't get straight how the severest case of the boils which they'd ever seen could possibly help you survive such a smite.”

  Yann-Ber nodded.

  “You mustn't move around, Yann-Ber,” said Rose sternly. “If the healers think we're disturbing you, they'll run us out. They are unbelievably protective.”

  She paced a small circle with her hands on her hips, chewing on her lip, before turning back to him. “I think you should just blink your eyes to answer, so you don't have to move. How about blinking once for yes and twice for no?”

  “That's a very good idea, or I could just talk...”

  “Oh, you think that's clever, do you?” said Rose with a feigned huff. “If you weren't in so much pain I'd just clop you one for that.” She grinned broadly. “You oughtn't to talk, anyway. The healers do expect you to rest.”

  “Oh, they always say that when they don't know what else to do for you.”

  “Yes...” said Rose.

  “But you know, I don't have time to waste on recovery. And besides, it hardly matters whether I recover or not, time being so short...”

  “Don't you dare give up hope, Yann-Ber!” she snapped. “You've come so far. Besides, there's still time to go after Demonica, and you can't rule out Grandfather's getting back his full powers at any time. Now don't you dare say otherwise! Besides, who knows if we'll stumble onto someone we never heard of before with enough magical ability to undo your curse.”

  Yann-Ber looked at Fuzz with a resigned sigh and a roll of his eyes.

  “No sir!” woofed Fuzz with such an abrupt and commanding military sternness that it gave Rose and Yann-Ber quite a start. “You will not give in! If you give in, you'll let us down! I forbid it!” Then his eyes softened. “Where there's life, there's always hope. And you, my prince, have already overcome incredible odds.”

  “Prince!” said Yann-Ber as he closed his eyes. “What a mercy it is to have such good friends at a time like this. I promise then, for you. I promise that I will endure until my time is gone.” He paused for a moment, steadying his composure before opening his eyes. “Now tell me, you've had me worried. Were you mistreated in any way by my family?”

  “Everyone was most polite...” said Fuzz sharing a startled glance with Rose.

  “No they weren't,” said Yann-Ber. “You're the one being most polite. I can't imagine that with the situation being as it was disclosed to me in Father's chamber, you wouldn't have at least noticed something amiss. So please tell me everything.”

  “Well, they were mostly polite, then,” said Fuzz with a shrug, “though not altogether what you'd call 'friendly.' In fact, we got the distinct idea that they fancied that we were in league with Demonica in some sinister plot. So I'd say when considering all of that, that 'most polite' might fit after all.” He studied Yann-Ber a moment. “Now it's altogether different, since you let them give you a good toasting on that weird rock. They've been falling all over themselves to treat us impeccably. What was that thing you sat on?”

  Yann-Ber threw his head back into his pillow and laughed hard enough to bring a nurse to the door to peep in. “...Oh my!” he said, sobering. “Weird rock...! Dear old Father wouldn't know what to think about 'weird rock.' He takes his weird rock very seriously, don't you know...” He broke out laughing again.

  “I suppose 'weird rock' must not be his name for it,” said Fuzz.

  “My word, no!” said Yann-Ber with a gasp. “No, no! It's the Seeing Stone!” Once again he was laughing.

  “Is it enchanted?” said Rose.

  “No, strangely enough. That is, not if you're asking if someone cast a spell on it. Douar-Noz has certain unique mineral deposits, don't you know. Probably every scrying ball in the world came from here. The Heart almost certainly did. The skinweleriou come from the prophet crystal, or catoptrolite mines owned by Demonica here. And the Seeing Stone is just another unique weird rock...” he said, pausing for another small eruption of laughter, “...only found here, though the Seeing Stone is the only one of its kind ever found. Call it anything you please, Fuzz.”

  “Just don't be overheard mentioning 'weird rock?'“

  “Father isn't that jovial,” said Yann-Ber. “He wasn't even the one who found it. We don't even have records of who that might have been. It's been a treasure of the House of Dark from the beginning. There are lots of stories. One of my favorites is that one of my very distant ancestors, while courting a lady, sat upon the stone to profess his abiding love for her and was struck dead on the spot.”

  “I can't believe that,” said Rose. “You've made that up.”

  “You've never sat upon it, my dear,” laughed Yann-Ber. “All the far-fetched tales about it seem possible once you've been astride it.”

  “But what does it do?” she said.

  “If you're sitting on it and tell a lie, it can tell at once and will discharge a fatal bolt of lightning.”

  “But why did the stone try to kill you?” she said, “I've never known you to be anything except perfectly honest.”

  “Why thank you, Rose. I've found life so much less complicated without the lies. Of course, I had to learn the hard way, but I did it fairly young.”

  “So why did the stone smite you?” said Fuzz.

  “I told a lie on purpose. It was the only way to keep them from putting an innocent on the stone to see if it was the real one.”

  “Ah,” said Fuzz softly. “You knew you couldn't die, but anyone else would. You are a noble and stout hearted soul, my friend.”

  “Not at all, Fuzz. I'm afraid I was trying to die.”

  Chapter 117

  “No be!” gasped Dyr-jinyr-yy as he sat up on his haunches. “Fnadi-yaphn birth-grunts Human kid! No! No be!” He looked up to see Fnadi-phnig-nyd, Vyf-japf, Ni-oowfn, Vyr-pudi and Trefni-fryd gathered about him sharing gaping stunned looks. A loon gave a shivering wail from somewhere across the lake to be answered by one quite nearby. The moon came and went behind tatters of cloud.

  “Hail, Dyr-jinyr-yy,” said the skinweler. Everyone lunged back wide-eyed for a close look, practically banging heads. There was Demonica, wings, halo and all.

  “Are you needing help from your great goddess, Fnadi-yaphn, or are you merely anxious to pay her homage?” she said, smiling as if it were merely a gorgeous Sunday morning and birth was the very last thing on anyone's mind.

  For a moment, Dyr-jinyr-yy stood bug-eyed and speechless under his heavy white brow. A glint of moonlight from movement amongst the metal-heads along the outer curtain of Oilean Gairdin caught his eye. “All Elves in the pink-stone hut-cave in big- pond are guarded by metal-heads, metal-heads, metal-heads, metal-heads,” he hooted all at once, “so where is plen
ty-to-eat? Where is easy-to-eat? Fnadi-yaphn said plenty-to-eat and easy-to-eat!” Again the nearby loon gave a tremulous wail.

  “Aoofn,” said Ni-oowfn, squeezing in for a look. “Elves and Elves. Easy-elves.”

  “Aoofn,” said Dyr-jinyr-yy with a beetling nod, as he elbowed him out of the way. “Fnadi-yaphn said: plenty-to-eat and easy-to-eat. Fnadi-yaphn brought Dyrney to Gnyr-jan ntu Afajoy in can't-go-back, can't-go-back, can't-go-back. Fnadi-yaphn gave Dyrney big-dead-dead-dead-dead with Human-metal-heads and fly-out-bites. Fnadi-yaphn leave us with Elves in hut-cave with metal-heads and go hide with birth-grunts. Maybe Fnadi-yaphn can't-make plenty-to-eat easy-to-eat.”

  “You mean that you actually doubt your very own godess Fnadi-yaphn?”

  “Aoofn! he boomed. “No trust!”

  “Why?”

  “You mean-think Dyrney mudful-hollow-heads?” said Dyr-jinyr-yy, rapping his head with his knuckles. “Fnadi-yaphn birth-grunts Dyrney kid and Human. No goddess birth-grunts. No-anybody birth-grunts Dyrney and Human.”

  “You think that a goddess need explain her actions to you, a mere Dyrney?” said Demonica. “I do when she no be goddess,” he said, as he crossed his arms and gave the skinweler a defiant shove with his foot. “Fnadi-yaphn give stink-promise. She owes us.”

  “By all means,” said Demonica with a baleful frown. “She owes you your death for your temerity and disrespect.”

  “If she be stinker-goddess, then she should heart-stop me so that all phnyr-fn-Dyrney see her be stinker-goddess.”

  “Oh, you are a sly one for a stupid troll, Dyr-jinyr-yy,” thought Demonica. “Oh you poor thing,” she said, as if he'd just bumped his head. “I'd think that way too if I had no more faith than you have, but you need to understand that Fnadi-yaphn birth-grunts just for you and your Dyrney.”

  “Dyrney need this?” said Dyr-jinyr-yy as he shoved at the skinweler again, smearing dirty streaks across it with his toes. He stared at his work and then planted a gob of mud in the middle of Demonica's face.

  “Fnadi-yaphn felt that Dyrney needed more power here in Gnyr-jan ntu Afajoy,” said Demonica, sweetly ignoring the mud. “Dyrney have no magic. When she gave birth to your ancestors, she made them and all Dyrney to this day too strong for magic to touch. No Elf can use a spell on you...”

  “Fnadi-yaphn birth-grunt first Dyrney?” said Dyrj-inyryy amidst the wide-eyed gasps of his companions.

  “You have no faith, 'shaman,'“ said Demonica. “We were just now trying to say that even though Dyrney are too strong for Elf magic, you are still helpless in the land of Plenty to Eat. You need to have magic to live here, just like any Elf. Just think, you could be roasting metal-heads, as you call them, this very minute if you had some magic of your own. Would any of you think of allowing a Human wizard to sire kids by one of your sows?”

  The trolls suddenly looked up at one another and gasped.

  “So it's this concern for your dignity and power that made her decide to do this,” she said with the dimples of the most well meaning cherub.

  Dyr-jinyr-yy opened and closed his mouth in agitation. He simply had no word for blasphemy. “Could this be true-speak?” he thought. “We must dance this out,” he said.

  “Very well,” said Demonica, hiking an eyebrow, “but you have no idea of what you interrupted, so don't take too long. Fnadi-yaphn and I have no patience today.”

  Dyr-jinyr-yy stood, held wide his arms and walked solemnly away from the skinweler, halting as the others formed a circle with him. “Ay-oooooooooooooh...” he droned as he fished amongst the beaded menagerie draped about his neck, producing his terrapin rattles, shick-shicka-shick, shick-shicka-shick, shick-shicka-shick...

  “Fnadi-yaphn could thunder-strike Dyrney because of you!” snarled Trefni-fryd as he tramped up to Dyr-jinyryy, stopping everything.

  “Strike him!” shouted Fnadi-phnig-nyd as he struck Trefni-fryd across the face hard enough to send him sprawling. Immediately he stamped him flat between the shoulder blades. “Ooot-ooot, ooot-ooot, ooot-ooot...” he boomed as he drummed his chest with his fists, “Strike him!” He dropped astraddle of him and yanked him upright by the hair, holding him while Vyf-japf, Ni-oowfn and Vyr-pudi each came up and smacked his face. At last he flung him down at Dyr-jinyr-yy's feet.

  “Ay-ooooooooooooooooooooooh...” said Dyr-jinyr-yy, solemnly shaking his terrapins over poor whimpering Trefni-fryd, shickity-shick, shikity-shick, shick-shicka-shick, shick-shicka-shick, shick-shicka-shick. He paused to lean over Trefni-fryd. “You have fnay-irgy for mouth! I said we will dance this out. Fnadi-yaphn will be good or Fnadi-yaphn will be bad.” shicka, shicka, shicka, shicka, shicka, shicka, shicka, shick-shicka-shick. “Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...” He began bobbing in time.

  By the time the others took up the chant, he was springing up and down. “What think? ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo, what think, ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...” He sought out the eyes of each of his companions in turn as he jumped and chanted in time. Suddenly he stopped.

  “Magic could-give Dyrney power-thump,” said Fnadi-phnig-nyd. “Dyrney might-go-back to Faf-nafaf someday. Jump-bite strike-falcons. Bloody-rip bond-mates.”

  “Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...” they chanted. Again they stopped short.

  “New-kid-squaller may take snow-and-snow-and-snow-and-snow-and-snow before brute able-big for magic,” said Dyr-jinyr-yy.

  “Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo...” they chanted before stopping.

  “How-be that good-now?” said Vyf-japh as he thumped the ground his club.

  “Good-point!” barked Dyr-jinyr-yy, and at once made his way back to where the skinweler lay, shuffling and shaking his terrapins: shicka-shick, shicka-shick, shicka-shick... He knelt down and picked it up to find it dark as any rock. At once it glowed and then swirled with colors, at last showing Demonica with her wings and halo impatiently looking out at them.

  “Well?” she said.

  “We are swell-joyed by the magic kid,” said Dyrj-inyr-yy as he wiped off mud from the ball, “but we are still-asking for Fnadi-yaphn's thunder-help. Elf pink-stone hut-cave still makes all Dyrney crawl-animal. Is her word still stink-promise?”

  “Your shameful lack of faith makes me wonder why Fnadi-yaphn ever bothers with you!” she said with enough of a snarl that they all shuddered. “She cares deeply about all of you and your situation in spite of how clumsy you all are at recognizing it. No wonder you need her help. Do you truly have enough faith in Fnadi-yaphn to want her help?”

  “Uh...”said Dyr-jinyr-yy as if jostled out of a daydream.

  “Well?” she barked.

  “Yes Demonica...” he said.

  “'Yes' what? Does yes mean that you have faith in the very goddess who created all Dyrney?”

  “Yes, I suppose...”

  “'Suppose?'“ she shrieked. “Fnadiyaphn does not help the faithless, Dyrjinyryy!”

  “Yes,” he said with quiet conviction, as he shifted nervously from knee to knee, keenly aware of how all the others were taking his performance.

  “How's that?” she rumbled. “You have to mean what you say if you are faithful.”

  “Yes, yes!” cried Dyr-jinyr-yy. “Fnadi-yaphn is Phnyrma! Fnadi-yaphn is Arrdsey-phnyrma!”

  “Oh, she most certainly is your first-mother, Dyr-jinyr-yy,” she said, smiling cherubically again. “And that is very well for you, since while you were having your dance, as you call it, she and I were discussing killing you for your faithlessness. Shaman is a big job, don't you know. Believe me it would be much easier to kill you than to listen to you go on. But since you now seem inclined to call her Arrdsey-phnyrma, we can probably do what you want instead of stopping your heart. So if you truly believe that she is First-mother...”

  “I do!” he cried, throwing himself face down before the skinweler. “Oh, I do-do!”

  “Good, since you won't possibly live through another discussion like this. So now that you're ready, hear well my instructions and follow them exactly. All of you must go back im
mediately to your camp and wait for me. While you are waiting, gather together several hundred of your strongest brutes, no sows, no kids. Do you understand me?”

  Dyr-jinyr-yy looked up at Fnadi-phnig-nyd and both nodded at the skinweler.

  A scream rang out behind Demonica before she could answer, as Fnadi-yaphn wailed: “Get that monster out of my sight! Go dash out its brains on the wall over the privy chute!”

  Dyrj-inyr-yy and Fnadi-phnig-nyd went quite wide eyed.

  “My!” said Demonica as she shook her head with a smile. “I'm afraid your dear first-mother wasn't as ready to birthgrunt a Human as she thought. Even goddesses misjudge a bit from time to time, don't you know. Humans are beasts indeed, and there are quite enough of them on this continent. One less ought to be about right.”

  “But Human sow-babe be goddess,” said Dyr-jinyr-yy ever so carefully. “Is it true-strong-wise to head-smash a goddess?”

  “Most wise in this case,” she said, as if she were speaking to a precocious child. “Such a Human might grow to challenge Fnadi-yaphn or her twin brother. That could be big trouble for the Dyrney, since Humans side with Elves.”

  “Then thunder-thump Human sow-babe to head-smash,” said Dyr-jinyr-yy, sharing a knowing nod with Fnadi-phnig-nyd. “Head-smash sow-babe before Fnadi- yaphn juicy-eats afterbirth.”

  “Go,” she said. “I've things to tend to here. I will appear before you as soon as I'm done. Rally your brutes. Be ready when I get there.” And with that, the skinweler went quite dark, leaving them standing completely speechless in the feeble moonlight, listening to the loons.

  ***

  “Stop dear!” said Demonica, calling out after the midwife who was hurrying down the hall with the newborn troll in a flannel blanket. “I'm coming, just stay right there!” She stepped the distance in her crisp red spool heels as if it were merely routine business and smiled as she reached out for the bundle.