Heart of the Staff - Complete Series

by Carol Marrs Phipps

  “I wasn't saying anything,” he said, “but the path has been looking awfully untraveled for the place not to turn out abandoned.”

  They began hearing crystal wind chimes as they passed amongst the empty houses.

  “These are like the old houses back at Baile Gairdin, Olloo,” said Roseen.

  “Horseweeds smothering the hollyhocks,” said Rose.

  “Not a bloomin' soul, nor hog nor chicken in sight,” said Fuzz. “And there's Lake Jutland, yonder.”

  “Now I know that there was a disaster here,” said Rose as the unicorns lined up at the water's edge to drink. “Look out across the lake at the waves. That island yonder is Oilean Gairdin Proper, where the castle is. There's a submerged isthmus in a straight line between here and there. The water over it is only a hand or two deep. See how the waves are disturbed, going over it? You can make out the entire isthmus. The Elves used to maintain an enchantment of the water above it, so one would never suspect that it was there. This is the only time I've ever seen it this way. We can ride the unicorns right across, no problem.”

  The strike falcons were unnerved at the prospect of wading into the water and had to have their jesses put on so that they could be led across. On the far side they found far worse than just weeds.

  “No!” cried Rose. “The castle's down! I thought we should've seen it from the other shore. Lukus! Soraya!” She was in tears at once.

  “They must've fled,” said Fuzz as he helped her down and into his arms. “It may take us months, but I'm willing to bet that we find them completely safe.”

  “Didn't you tell us once about you and your brother boating on an enchanted river beneath it?” said Roseen.

  “The Magic River...”

  “That's easy to imagine,” said Olloo. “We had our greatest losses back at Baile Gairdin when the Marooderyn Imsheeyn (we called them Marfora Siofra, back then) came in the night and trapped scores upon scores of us in the old castle without a means of escape. That river was undoubtedly a planned escape route from the very beginning.”

  “Oh I do so hope,” said Rose with a sob.

  “What do I hear?” said Obbree. “Is that some kind of snoring?”

  “Look at the birds,” said Roseen as Smorigagh, Baase and Caggey fuzzed up their necks and popped their beaks.

  “And it's trolls without a doubt,” said Karl-Veur as everyone began seeing the pictures shared by the birds.

  “Is there any reason to stay here?” said Fuzz.

  “I can't imagine any,” said Olloo. “Where was it that you said your adopted son and dragon were?”

  “The Dragon Caves.”

  “May we tag along?”

  There was a sudden heartfelt clasping of hands.

  They were well up into the pines, but a good piece short of the Saddle when they were forced by darkness to make camp. By late afternoon the next day, they saw that their ship was still in the harbor.

  “Before we set sail,” said Rose, “let's set fire to those six Gwaelian ships. Please?”

  For a moment, they shared looks all 'round.

  “Our pleasure, my princess,” said Olloo with a grand hat sweeping bow.

  And with that, Obbree threw himself into a long cartwheel ending in a handspring.

  Chapter 173

  The Black Desert was indeed jet black from the obsidian sands produced by ancient volcanoes. On a sunny day the landscape fairly broiled, dancing and heaving in the shimmering mirages like the waves of the ocean itself. Whirlwinds rose everywhere in great black twisting columns which sometimes left the countryside in a haze of sooty grit. The green plant life there became washed with white eons ago in order to keep from being cooked. Animals became black with enlarged heat radiating ears and were mostly out at night. And Edward and Laora delighted in taking thorough advantage of the magnificent updraughts and thermals, soaring in the air for hours with scarcely a flap. They were also most fond of bathing in the Wraith River, so named for the plant life along its banks looking ghostly white in the moonlight.

  “Hang on Edward,” said Laora as she dove for the river below. “Time for a bath. And not just to cool off this time. We've got company coming any day now.” And with that, they plunged deep into the water, sending a heron pumping aloft from the willows.

  Edward might have gotten frantic from staying under so long, but he knew Laora's habits, and here they were already, bobbing up with a furious shaking and flinging of water.

  “That was fun!” she cried, still shaking her wet feathers. “Want to do it again?”

  “Yea!” he shouted. “Try lifting off from the water this time, instead of the shore. But only once. The sun's going down.”

  Laora hove up, furiously beating her wings as she ran smacking across the water like a great waterlogged duck, managing to lumber aloft before running aground at the first horseshoe bend.

  Edward ran his cheek down an arm and opened his eyes. “Hey!” he cried. “Look 'ee yonder. No Laora. Further off.”

  “You're right,” she said. “Company. There's a whole herd of people. And those other things have to be diatrymas, even though they're not green in this light.”

  “Company maybe, but they're coming to stay for who knows how long.”

  “Could be worse.”

  “How?”

  “What if it was Trifin and the awful Fireheads?”

  “Yea. I guess we're lucky then. Let's hurry back to the caves and let everyone know. They'll probably want to fix a 'way, 'way bigger supper.”

  “That's what we've been putting up food in all the grottos for,” she said. “And we're going to be out flying all the time, because we'll have to be hunting lots more. Let's go.”

  “I guess it won't be so bad. Just crowded.”

  “Well, we can always go flying, especially since we'll be hunting. And don't you want to anyway, since Papa gave you that real Niarg longbow?”

  “I really like it and everything, but it's just a boy's bow...”

  “Yea, but don't you want to try shooting it from my back?”

  “Yea!” he cried, giving a bounce. And if Trifin and the Fireheads did move in, we'd still go out and hunt more, but you can bet that the whole pushy mob would be out with us.”

  “If those rotten stink hole Fireheads ever come here to live, Edward, we're leaving,” she said with a hot snort.

  Edward felt her shudder beneath him. “You really hate Trifin, don't you?” he said.

  “Righty-o! And what I don't get is why Momma and Papa can't see what a poopy swelled up bristle slug he is. I promise you one thing, Edward. I'll never, ever, ever mate with him. I don't care if he was the last dragon in the world, I still wouldn't.”

  “I know you mean that,” he said, giving her a hug, “but weren't your folks talking about an arranged marriage? You wouldn't have any choice.”

  “Ha!” she barked. “You forget that we can fly and Momma and Papa can't. If they do that, we'll leave. And I'm not kidding, either. I've thought about it ever since the Fireheads left. They can't know better than me, because this is my very only, only life. If I ever do mate (and I'm just not going to, anyway), I'll be doing the whole choosing, and nobody else.”

  “I agree. That's how it should be.”

  “Here's good old Blister Foot Kite Field,” she said, swooping down to land at a run. “Well don't worry Edward. No one will ever come between us. If ever I mate, then he'll just have to accept that you and I are bonded forever.”

  “Forever,” he said, sliding off her back. “Here come Spark and Toast.”

  “Something's up,” said Spark.

  “This is our usual time,” said Laora, “Maybe nothing's up.”

  “Something's up.”

  “We just saw a whole mess of people coming,” she said. “They'll probably get here by the time the moon's right up there.”

  “Well, go tell Lipperella,” said Spark. “We'll be in to help directly.”

  “I hope we have enough elk in the larders,” said To
ast.

  “Oh?”

  “Prince Abbey really likes elk.”

  “I see.”

  “He told me so himself,” she said. “But he hates raw lizards and won't even touch a pickled vole. Why are humans like that?”

  “Edward's a little like that, isn't he?” said Spark. “Well, we mustn't forget to respect their sensibilities. At least we're lucky enough to know what they're missing.”

  Toast gave a knowing nod and squeezed her father's leathery hand.

  ***

  Alvita carefully slid a bubbling apple pie out of the oven in time to jerk it sideways with a start at a yodeling shriek, flinging it onto the floor in front of Nacea who slipped and fell as she bolted for the lava tube to see. Celeste was already outside the kitchen, running toward the screams.

  “Aaaah! Aaaah! Aaaagh!” came the cries in the echoes.

  “Rodon?” cried a wide eyed Alvita, making no attempt to peel her knitting out of the pie, as she stumped to her feet and raced out.

  “Dampned Babi geen ybe beth what...!” cried Nacea, scrambling after.

  They found Rodon without his tail and one hind leg, wailing out in anguish as he thrashed about on the lava floor by the cavern's hot spring.

  Nasteuh giggled and cooed as she gulped and lapped at his spreading pool of blood.

  “Dampned wee gobelyn!” cried Celeste, flinging out crackling green flashes from her fingertips to bind the child in place long enough to see to Rodon's horrible wounds. At once she, Alvita and Nacea fell to laying on hands of healing magicks, chanting out verses and stroking poor Rodon's blood soaked coat.

  When they grew quiet at last, listening for his breathing, he quaked with a great whooping sob into a crack in the rocks. “O my derre sustrin,” he wailed. “Ich yow have betrayed. Lok atte wher weo aren. Yit ye my lyve do saven and my peyne do endyth. Ich am nought no thyng but crawlande shame byforn ye.”

  “Be stille!” said Celeste. “Weo wol nat spek of swich thynges namore. Tyme ypast and ydon. Thou hast payed thy penaunce.”

  “That ybe...” he squeaked. “Ich juste...” Suddenly he threw back his head and bawled into the throbbing echoes of the lava tube.

  “Celeste!” cried Alvita, just as Rodon's cries were dying away to shudders. “Dampned Babi is loos!”

  “O no thou dost nat, litel schyt!” cried Celeste, flinging out a blinding streak of crackling green at the red eyed child. “Nacea! She to mochel ybe. Fetch the bok fro the chist. Ich the laste tweye wordes nede to pottyn hir to slepe for the un-makyng. Renne!”

  Nacea arrived at the end of Celeste's bed, heaving for breath. She flipped open the hasp and fumbled with the latches at each end of the lid. Each time she managed to pull back one button with both hands, the one at the other end snapped shut. “Dampne hit!” she cried as she sprang to her feet and blew open the lid with a flash of her own green fire. She heaved out the stack of folded linen, grabbed up the book and raced out into the lava tube, kicked off her slippers and sprinted.

  “Celeste!” she cried, slapping her feet to a halt. “The...” she gasped, “laste tweye...wordes aren: 'carreg gysgu!'“ She grew wide eyed at once at what she saw.

  Celeste and Alvita were both in trouble. It was taking every last particle of strength from the both of them, just to keep Nasteuh and her own strange bolts of fire inside their glowing magical ward.

  “A!” cried Celeste as one of Nasteuh's bolts shot out and burnt her arm.

  Nacea flung herself into the fray as Celeste began to totter. “Ich The Slepe of Stoones can!” she cried. “Heere goeth!” And she chanted out the spell.

  Presently Damned Baby was on her feet with a glowing red fire in each hand as Celeste sank to her knees to keep from falling.

  “Togidre thanne,” gasped Celeste. And the three sisters chanted the spell again.

  Suddenly Rodon added a fourth voice and a bright green fire of his own as he lay on his side on the stone floor.

  Damned Baby sat back with a diapered plump on the floor, rolled softly onto her side and went right to sleep.

  “Rodon,” said Celeste as she steadied herself. “Wher didde thine poweres come from?”

  “Righte heere!” he said fiercely with a thump of his chest. “Ich love myn elde sustrin.”

  “Nacea and Alvita,” said Celeste, “plese up and doun the tonnellis ga and gader al the pynke toon spither silk yit konnen and mete me out atte Longebarke.”

  “Tyme for the un-makyng thanne?” said Alvita.

  “Art thou daft sweteherte?” said Celeste. “Weo hir to un-make or she wol to un- make us.”

  As Alvita and Nacea hurried away to find silk, Celeste looked at the sleeping Damned Baby. “She realy the pratyeste litel thyng ybe...” she said with a shake of her head.

  “Ich do nat thynk so,” said Rodon.

  Celeste scooped her up and set out for Longbark. Alvita and Nacea were already there with two great baskets of silk. Before long, Nastea the Damned Baby was hanging from one of Longbark's great limbs in a snug cocoon covered over with leaves. And so began the long communion between the oldest and wisest magical tree and the three most powerful mother Fairies alive. After seven days and seven nights they went to their beds. There was nothing more for to done. The unmaking of Nasteuh had begun.

  ***

  Sooty poorwills called from places beyond the sands as bats and moths fluttered amongst the agave spikes. The full moon had risen far enough to turn pale silver, making the spiny euphorbia and evergreen oaks of the oasis look ghostly white against an utter void of coal black sand, still oven warm from the day's sun, as Edward and Laora flew in, leading the marching newcomers from the desert and began circling the kite field, dangling a lantern to light their way. “Everybody sees everybody else,” said Laora as she swooped down to land where the dragons were gathering to greet the Elves, Humans and diatrymas.

  “Hey Look at Toast,” said Edward, the moment they were down. “There's somebody she really wants to see.”

  “Has to be Abaddon,” said Laora as she ran her teeth down a flight feather. “I'm pretty sure they bonded when he was here.”

  “Like us? I knew they got to having fun together in spite of her mean remarks, but actually bonded? She's been more critical of us than anyone...”

  “Shush! She'll hear you.”

  “Well I'll be quiet for you, but she's the Mob's poop hole.”

  “There's Abbey on Arwr with Shot 'n' Stop,” said Laora. “And I'll bet a weeks worth of voles that he's looking for Toast.”

  “You win,” he said, making a face, “even if it turns out he's looking for Uncle Spark.”

  “Oh no he's not,” she said. “Look.”

  Abaddon leaped off Arwr's back with a bound to give Toast a grand hug, only to have her draw back at the sight of the python around his neck. “This is Shot 'n' Stop,” he said, hugging her anyway. “And I want you to meet my father, King James of Loxmere, and our very good friend Mary the White. She's a white witch.”

  “Your Majesty,” she said, making it quite plain that she was not at all used to curtseys, even if she did know what was proper. And it was no help that she couldn't keep her eyes off Mary. “You, I mean, you look like a completely nice person, Mary. How could Abaddon ever call you a witch?”

  “Because that is indeed what I am.”

  “But you don't look harmful...”

  “Well I'm right glad, since I've vowed to serve Good. And I promise that you'll never fear my company.”

  “So then, let's go find Edward and Laora, shall we, Toast?” said Abaddon as he took her hand. And with that, they vanished into the milling crowd.

  “A bit awkward for a moment, wasn't it?” said James.

  “What? My being a witch?”

  “No,” he said, taking up her hand. “It would be so much easier if you could be introduced as my wife, don't you think?”

  “My word!” she said, stifling a wide-eyed gasp. “Of course it would, but for a moment, it sounded as though you were ask
ing me to marry you.”

  “I meant for a lot longer than any fiddly moment...”

  Mary went even more wide eyed. “You are! Are you?”

  “Yes! Will you?”

  “Oh my stars!” she cried with a girlish bounce, whirling into his arms. “Oh yes, yes! A thousand times, yes.”

  James stopped short. “You have no idea how many times I've had to keep myself from asking you. I swear. The very first time we spoke, I wanted you to marry me...”

  “Then if that's how hit be,” said Owain, “particularly if you ones can't keep any of hit to yourselves, Llewyrch and Aeron and I have no choice at all but to butt in and say our congratulations and good wishes, sire.”

  “And might I ask when, sire?” said Llewyrch.

  “As soon as I get my three knights ready,” said James.

  “Now I'm lost,” said Aeron. “I can't imagine you not letting everyone know.”

  “Well you three have to get on your knees first,” said James.

  The three of them traded looks of disbelief as wide eyed as Mary.

  “I mean we could do it right here and now, since I have my sword,” he said. “Or, if you want a proper public ceremony, we could start arranging things with the dragons...”

  “Well don't you ones want to get married right quick?” said Owain. “Sounded like hit.”

  “What if Neron married us at supper tonight, Mary?”

  “Yes!” she cried with a bounce.

  “And can you three teach us the dance to Queen's Head?” he said with an earnest look. “The Elves have got fiddles. No way there won't be a dance after supper.” He turned aside with a whistle and grabbed at the sleeve of a passing Elf. “Sean! We've got something serious going on here. Could you run and find Lance and Abaddon?”

  “High time we danced hit, things a-being what they are, if ye know what I mean, sire,” said Owain with a nod.

  “Well then Owain, Llewyrch and Aeron,” said James, taking on an oratorical tone at the sight of Lance and Abaddon coming their way. “Kneel if you would.”