To Find a God

by Mary Hamilton

  What did surprise Marzi, though, was the realization that Valyn had been right all along. She had said that information would come when it was needed. Listening for the answers—it all made sense.

  “But that isn’t the main thing I wanted to discuss with you. What I say to you now is for your ears only. I will not repeat this in the company of others. Much has been made of your coming here as a child, unknowing and innocent. I doubt not that you are a child, and I suppose one might call you innocent. But you are so much more. You said that Valyn chose you. At the time, I did not understand that. Now I can see the wisdom. In the short time you have been among us, you have become more like an elf than I would have thought possible. You have sacrificed for us. You have risked your life for us. And, if what I have heard is correct, you offered yourself up to imprisonment and possible death in the domain of the frost elves in order to protect your companions, to keep them from doing something that might have had disastrous results.” She paused and took a brief sip from her cup.

  “Marzi Gloam of Pangrove, you are the one we need at this time. I pledge the support of the dark elves of the Bough. I have also dispatched Lothran to the cliffs to persuade Saige to return here as well. You have already impressed Elondiel. And so, if things proceed as I hope, you will soon have the entirety of the elven leadership assembled here. There will be procedural wrangling. There will be stubborn displays of pride and ego. And there will be no small amount of carefully considered words and actions designed to give one party or the other an upper hand. I beg that you not allow this to dampen your spirit and commitment. These are things that will just happen. They are, for better or worse, part of the dance. In the end, you will lead our people to wherever this must end. I pledge the support of the dark elves of the Bough to that end. I cannot speak for the other leaders, but I will bring all of the pressure that I can to assure they follow suit.”

  The words stunned Marzi. Her job was finished. She had done everything she had been asked and now the elves were united. It was time for her to go home. Leading this… whatever it was, this was not her job. It was the duty of the elven leaders and warriors. War, if that was coming, was not something that children were supposed to partake in.

  Before she could protest, the empress continued, “We know not the path ahead right now. I ask that you continue to trust in Valyn. She has not steered you or any of us wrong thus far.”

  Chapter 81: Tovi

  “Naw. It doesn’t hurt at all.” Tovi winced as Kharla rubbed more of the stinky, goopy salve on the sides of his shoulders. But, of course, it did hurt.

  Klunk stood beside the two, a worried look in his eyes. “Those are bad wounds. If they become diseased with germs, it could be even worse.” He shook his head. “I agree with Kharla. The medicine will help.”

  But what Tovi felt most was pride. He had done something neither of his friends could do. His friends. He had two of them now. First it was only Klunk. Now he had Kharla. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes against the pain. But it felt so good.

  Kharla’s voice had become notably softer, kinder since their rescue. “We owe you our lives, Tovi. If you had not seen that opening and crawled through to find the miners, we would not have survived another day. Thank you.”

  The young Azyrean opened his eyes and smiled despite his discomfort. He could get used to this.

  The trio, along with the dogs and squirrel, sat next to the pool where they had first discovered the underwater cave. The sun retreated rapidly to the west signaling the end of day. But how many days had it been? Tovi had lost track. How long had they been gone from Myhrren’s hut? How long since he had been gone from Pangrove?

  “We should be on our way. It is still several hours to the hut.” Klunk stood and shouldered his pack.

  Kharla gazed up at him from her sitting position. “What will we tell him?” Her eyes carried a note of worry.

  “We tell him about Mugrok, the altar, and the crystal. He will know what all of that means.” Klunk faced west, away from her, as he spoke.

  “Oh. Okay.” Her voice reflected relief.

  Tovi figured that the exchange between the two reflected an agreement not to be specific about Kharla running off and helping the spirit. A good thing, too. Ever since they found her in the caverns, she seemed overcome with guilt. Her voice, the look in her eyes, and her words—all spoke of regret and humiliation. Even at his young age, Tovi could see there was little point in blaming her. She was doing enough of that herself.

  They started off across the sand, Klunk in the lead—clomp, clomp, clomp.

  Across the land

  and into night

  Behind them rises

  a moon so bright

  The darkness comes

  the kraals arise

  to fight the evil

  from the skies.

  Kharla, striding beside Klunk, kept up with him pace-for-pace. “That’s a good one, Klunk.”

  The singing ogre chortled. “It is awsie, huh.”

  Tovi smiled as he huffed and puffed, trying to keep up.

  As the lower edge of the sun kissed the horizon, Klunk drew them to a halt. “There.” He pointed ahead and to the left. “That small hillock is beside his hut, I think. Maybe another hour or less.” Before he could resume his march, though, a strange sight appeared.

  Just to their right, a large swirling circle of blue light appeared. It was situated upright so that a being could walk into it if they desired. It looked very much like the white portals that Tovi had taken to the top of the slope after riding moonbeams on Pangrove, only a different color. But what shocked the group most was what popped out.

  A human, not quite as tall or stout as Klunk or Kharla, but substantially larger than Tovi, tumbled out, head first. It rolled onto the ground and came to a stop. The being straightened up, a shocked look on its face but otherwise apparently unharmed. A male, he also looked older than the ogres.

  Tovi stared in amazement but before he could say or do anything, Kharla screamed at the top of her lungs, “Human!” She charged the being, her club swinging down in an arc from above her head.

  The human rolled to the side and avoided the slam. Leaping quickly to his feet, he pulled a large, two-handed sword from its sling on his back. He moved to the side, going into a crouch.

  Kharla quickly recovered and moved in on him, swinging the club in front of her. By this time, Klunk had brought out his own club, but moved in a far less deliberate manner, as though he wasn’t sure what to do.

  “Stay back, I’m telling you.” The man circled around, backing up as he went.

  Kharla didn’t say a word. She bore down on him, once again slamming her club down and once again missing. Klunk moved to cut the human off but not quickly enough.

  The man dropped and rolled between the two, springing to his feet behind them. Tovi prepared to join the battle with his usual approach—grab for a leg and hold on. He noticed that the two dogs sat and watched, apparently disinterested. In that moment, that split second, something clicked with the Azyrean. For whatever reason, the animals did not seem to consider the human as an enemy, as a danger.

  Kharla once again brought her club down. But rather than dodging it, the man met it with his sword and twisted, sending the club out of Kharla’s hands and rolling across the ground. In a single fluid movement, he dove for the club and was up facing the ogres. His eyes signaled a mix of uncertainty and determination. But Tovi could make out no real sign of hate or anything bad.

  The human continued to move sideways, avoiding the ogres. Kharla, apparently trying to recapture her weapon, dove for him. She was met with a solid blow from her own club to the side of the head and went down hard.

  Klunk became enraged. He screamed as he lunged, club over his head, for the man. The human, though, shifted to the side and treated the ogre to a head bash as well.

  With the two ogres lying still on the ground, the man staggered a few steps, dropped the club, and picked up his sword again. M
oving intently toward Klunk, he raised the sword above his head as though to run the unconscious ogre through.

  Tovi sprang into action. He leapt between the man and Klunk. “No. You will not kill them.” It occurred to him that he stood there with no weapon facing a human being armed with a large, steel sword. And to make matters worse, the two dogs sat there watching as though it were nothing more than a mild amusement.

  “They tried to kill me.” But the man’s grasp seemed to relax, and the sword came down slowly to his side. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will defend myself.” He squinted as he looked at Tovi, as if trying to figure out a puzzle.

  “Just wait. Don’t hurt them.” Tovi nodded toward the motionless bodies. “They’re not going to hurt you.” He hoped that Klunk or Kharla wouldn’t wake up and resume the fight while he was talking to the man.

  “You’re not an ogre.” The human returned the sword to its sheath. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Tovi Gloam, of Pangrove. I am an Azyrean.”

  “Let me guess. You rode a moonbeam here.” A grin broke out on the human’s face.

  Tovi stared wide-eyed. “How did you know?”

  “I am Mathias Grenham. And I believe I know a friend of yours.”

  Chapter 82: Tovi

  “Have you seen my sister? Marzi? She’s like me only taller and with different hair. And she’s a girl.” The enthusiasm for his sister surprised Tovi. Yes, it was still her fault that he’d ended up here. But, it was okay. “Oh, do you want some water? I’d give you some food, but we ran out in the caves.” He felt himself rambling.

  The human sat back and accepted the water skin, taking a long drink. “No. I haven’t. Don’t even know her. But I do know Jarek.”

  “Jarek who?” Tovi vaguely remembered that the voice had told him something about this other one.

  “Jarek Whit. Calls himself a beam keeper.” He scratched his head and furrowed his brow. Then his eyes brightened. “Yeah, that’s it. A beam keeper.”

  “Does he know how to get us home?” Visions of his mother and father flashed through Tovi’s mind.

  Mathias chortled. “Not hardly. He has a hard enough time keeping himself out of trouble.” He glanced over at the two still unconscious ogres. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hit them so hard. Guess I don’t know my own strength.” He belted out a laugh.

  Tovi went back over and looked at his two friends. They were still breathing. He’d put their packs beneath their heads. “Maybe I should splash water on them, or something.” He wasn’t quite sure about helping injured ogres.

  The human stood and strode over to the two. He poured a little water onto a rag that he took from his back pocket. Stooping down, he wiped Kharla’s head gently.

  “Ugh.” Kharla shifted and moved her head slowly from side to side.

  “Take it easy, now, young lady. You got a nasty bump on your head. Sorry.” Mathias stood and backed away from the stirring ogre.

  In a flash, Kharla was on her feet, screaming and charging the human.

  Tovi darted between the two. “Wait! Kharla. Wait. Stop.”

  She pulled up short and glared at the young Azyrean.

  “He’s not going to hurt you, really. He’s okay.” Tovi pleaded with her.

  “Sure. That’s why he beat me over the head.” She pointed over at Klunk. “And him.” She stepped to the side and moved a step closer to Mathias. “And he killed my father.”

  Mathias moved back, putting his hands up in front of him. “No. I never killed anyone, well, except one of the king’s soldiers once. And I don’t even know your father. I’ve never been here before.” His speaking grew faster and his pitch increased. “And, you hit me first, remember?”

  Kharla stopped in her tracks. The hatred dimmed, just a little. Her gaze shifted between Mathias and Tovi. Finally, she turned away. “We’d better get Klunk up.”

  Klunk, when roused, came around with far less animation and anger. “Oh.” He rubbed the side of his head, which had a gash. Blood streamed from it down onto his neck. “That hurts.”

  Mathias hesitatingly stepped toward him, wet rag in his extended hand. “Here, use this.”

  “I still say that we can’t trust him.” Kharla hung back, shifting in place from one foot to the other.

  “He could have killed both of you while you were out. Look at me.” Tovi shrugged, his hands out in front of him. “You think I could have stopped him? And besides, he’s just a part of a small group of humans—the rebels, or so he says.”

  Kharla’s eyes flashed. “The rebels? That’s the group that Mugrok said was killing our families and friends.”

  Klunk shook his head as he sat down. “Mugrok? You mean the thing that lied to you… to all of us. The thing that tricked us into getting his altar and crystal and who then collapsed the tunnels? Is that the one you mean?”

  “Well….” Kharla turned away and stared toward the west, where her father’s grave lay beyond Myhrren’s hut.

  Tovi eased over next to her. “We should at least listen to what he has to say. We can also take him to Myhrren. Since the old man is human, maybe he knows more about this.”

  The Azyrean could almost feel Kharla stiffen. But she remained silent for a moment before turning and facing Mathias. “If you—these rebels—didn’t kill my father, then who did?”

  Mathias stroked his chin for a moment. “I can’t tell you for sure. But I do know that the human king, Wyndred, has been sending scouts into this realm. Just how he does that, I don’t know. But, if a human killed your father, it had to have been one of his men. The rebels have never sent anyone over… at least not until I stumbled in.”

  Klunk, having rubbed his head with the wet cloth for the past few minutes, seemed to take a newfound interest in the subject. “What does this King Wyndred want here?” He gestured around at the landscape in front of him. “This is a desert. There is nothing here except for our kraals. Why kill us?” He stopped abruptly, and then continued, “Unless it is for the crystals.”

  Mathias’ eyes widened. “Crystals. Yes, it is about crystals. I think it has something to do with traveling, you know, between the realms. I don’t know how it works.” He turned to Tovi. “But I think your beam keeper might know.”

  Chapter 83: Tovi

  “Yes, those are some nasty bumps.”

  Tovi watched Myhrren dab a paste of crushed plants, something that looked like mud and water, on Klunk and Kharla’s wounds. The smell reminded the Azyrean of the medicine his mother made him take when he wanted to stay home from classes.

  Myhrren focused mostly on the two ogres, but occasionally shot a glance over at Mathias, who sat in a corner silently watching.

  The old man had listened to the initial tale of Mathias’ arrival and the subsequent tussle but had deferred hearing the rest of the story, saying it would keep. “It could have been worse, much worse.” The old man smiled as he finished wrapping a white cloth around Kharla’s head. “You might have run across an adversary who chose to use his sword on you, rather than the club.”

  Kharla glared at him.

  Myhrren shifted his attention to the visiting human. “And you, my good sir, you look relatively unscathed, considering your remarkable journey.” He ambled over and examined the man. “Yes, you look quite well.”

  Mathias narrowed his eyes as he considered his host. “I’m okay.” He paused and took a drink of water.

  “I see. Well, let us have some refreshments. I can imagine that all of you are in need of nourishment.” The old human shuffled across the floor and opened his cabinets. “I have smoked hare and seri grain—I can boil that up and add some butter. My greens are wilted, I’m afraid, but cooked up they will do nicely. And, yes, I have some carods and, of course, my sweet cakes.” He began to place the food on the table as the guests gathered around.

  Tovi had not realized just how hungry he was until the aroma of the smoked meat reached him, followed by the fragrant smell of the cakes. He dug in, heaping his pl
ate full. As he began to shovel the food into his mouth, Klik made his hunger known by chattering incessantly from his perch on the Azyrean’s shoulder.

  “Okay, okay.” Tovi grabbed a handful of topar nuts from a bowl on the table and set them on the floor. “There you go.” The squirrel fell silent except for the sound of his teeth crunching nuts.

  Myhrren brought over a larger package wrapped in white paper and handed it to Klunk. “Here. This meat should do nicely for the two canine companions.”

  Finally, everyone was settled and eating. Conversation dropped off and the silence was broken only by the sound of chewing and grunts of satisfaction.

  Tovi watched Klunk and Kharla as they consumed their meals. Both had changed a lot since they had been here last. Klunk kept his gaze down, seemingly focused only on the food. Kharla, interspersed her bites with glances at Myhrren and then Mathias. Her look seemed a combination of sadness, anger, and fear. But she said nothing.

  As the last of the food disappeared, Myhrren stood. “We can finish with a cup of brandy if that suits you all. And I can hear the rest of your story.”

  As he poured the rich, amber liquid into glasses, Mathias raised his to his nose and sniffed. “Hmmm.” He took a small sip and narrowed his eyes. “My preference would be ale, but this brandy isn’t too bad.” He took a gulp.

  Adjusting himself in the rickety chair, Myhrren nodded in Tovi’s direction. “Now, I think we are all ready if you’d like to tell me of your adventures.”

  Tovi started the tale. Klunk added pieces here and there. Kharla kept silent. What shocked the young Azyrean, though, was when Klunk described how the group had gotten separated and how Kharla had helped Mugrok. Or, more accurately, when he had not described it but rather just skipped over the incident as if it didn’t matter. His story went from “…we were still trying to decide…” to “…he created rockslides and trapped us….”