by Liara Woo
After a few strokes, Katie felt a surge of excitement, and for one moment the tingling became unbearable. As soon as the canoe passed that spot, the intensity faded. So that's where Drorin' 'personage' will appear, she thought. Then she caught herself. What am I thinking? I don't actually believe that crazy bird, do I? No. Of course not.
The sleek canoe glided easily over the water, rocking dangerously every now and then because of the reckless speed at which the girls sent it. Eventually Emma said, "We have to do this for four whole hours, you know. We should go slower."
"Good idea," Katie said. Already her arms were sore. They drifted for several minutes before they kept paddling again. This time they weren't as energetic.
"We should tip it over," Cami suggested mischievously.
Emma leaned over the side and trailed her fingers in the water. "Too cold," she determined.
"But the sun's hot, and the water will feel good," Cami pressed. Katie noticed the heat of the summer sun on her back, and at once the prospect of being soaked in icy water seemed tantalizingly soothing.
"Too risky," Emma replied. "What if Bob gets us?"
"Who's Bob?" Katie wondered.
"The giant rainbow trout that lives in the lake. My grandpa calls him Bob."
"How do you know he's real?" Cami asked.
"I was with my grandpa on his fishing boat one time. We were trolling. He got a bite, so he started reeling in, pulling as hard as he could on the line. But the fish was pulling us! It was incredible! Granddad had to cut his line in order to keep us afloat! And then I saw the sun glinting off of something huge! It was a fish; a giant one."
"Do you camp here often?" Katie asked.
"Once a year, every summer. Everyone in our family and extended family comes. Last year was the first time we met Bob."
"Let's not tip our canoe," Cami advised. "I don't want to become fish food."
Katie laughed, not really believing the story. She knew for a fact that trout couldn't possibly get that big.
They continued rowing until the sun reached its zenith; then Mrs. Sorenson called them back to the shore with a blast of her whistle. The girls paddled their way to the lakeside, bumping their canoes into each other and giggling. They got out of the boats, sinking thigh-deep in icy water, and helped each other pull their canoes onto the shore. They took off the life jackets and headed back up to the cabins.
"Change into regular clothes, girls," Mrs. Sorenson called. Then she instructed the other half of the campers to put on swimsuits and sunscreen. Katie and Cami skipped back up to their cabin and changed into t-shirts and jeans. After that they walked back outside to the picnic tables for lunch—peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with carrot sticks. Katie was quiet for most of it. She was recalling the fleeting moment on the lake when she'd been filled with excitement and the tingling she'd begun to ignore had suddenly intensified.
Was Drorin right, after all?
Archery was next. The girls were given a choice of a recurve or a compound bow. Katie and Cami chose recurve bows. Then they had to shoot arrows at balloons attached to blocks of wood in a large clearing. The blocks were probably five meters away.
Katie struggled at first; all five of her arrows went astray and sank into the ground beside one of the blocks. On her sixth try she hit a balloon, but there wasn't enough force in her arrow to pop it. Her seventh arrow missed, but just as she began to lose hope, her eighth arrow punctured a green one. After that she began popping them with less effort. Almost every other arrow found its mark. Soon she had to blow up ten more balloons to replace the popped ones.
It soon felt completely natural. She nocked and fired arrows faster than any other girl, and after a half hour, most of her shots punctured balloons. She paused once to look at the other girls. All of them, including Cami, were still on their first round of balloons. Katie was on her third.
As she began her fourth batch, Mrs. Sorenson approached her. "Have you used a bow before now?"
"No," Katie replied honestly.
"Incredible," Mrs. Sorenson murmured, shaking her head in bewilderment. "Would you mind if I moved your target back a few feet? It would be more of a challenge for you…"
"Sure," Katie said eagerly.
Mrs. Sorenson blew a sharp blast on her whistle, and the girls lowered their bows. The camp director walked out to Katie's block of wood and moved it to the very edge of the clearing. On her way back to the group, she retrieved all of the arrows and replaced them in the large buckets beside each girl. "Go ahead," she called out.
Katie continued firing at her target. She missed her first several shots. Then it began again: she began hitting some, then more, and finally all of her arrows popped balloons. Maybe it's part of my gift, she thought as she popped her sixtieth balloon. She kept shooting, hoping that everything would become clear to her in time.
That evening after dinner, she lay awake in her sleeping bag, unable to sleep. She was far too excited to close her eyes, and the tingling was now so intense that it was driving her nuts. She was now utterly convinced that her discomfort was a result of the 'presence' Drorin had warned her about. Perhaps she should go out and meet it…or him…or her.
Curiosity bubbled in the pit of her stomach, but she tried to shove it away. This presence could be a dangerous creature. I could get hurt…and what if Mrs. Sorenson catches me? I'd be in serious trouble…
But the curiosity remained. As did the tingling. It was overwhelming. Before she knew it she was silently descending the ladder, and then she was walking out of the door.
She didn't notice Emma, half asleep, watching her.
As quiet as a mouse, Katie stole through the ring of cabins and entered the small grove of trees surrounding it. She crossed the road and crept down the path towards the shore. Halfway there, when she could see the rocks near the shore, she crouched behind a tree and waited. She didn't dare go any closer. Just in case it is dangerous. Then she waited.
A thin blanket of mist settled on the forest. Katie shivered; it was cold out. She wished she'd thought to bring a jacket as she hugged herself. Her eyes were trained on a spot in the water; she was certain it was the same place she'd felt such excitement earlier. The mist thickened. She frowned. She couldn't even see the lake anymore.
I didn't think the White Mountains got so much fog, she thought uncertainly. She snuck closer to the bank, crouching behind one of the larger rocks. Soon a coyote padded to the lakeside and began to lap water from it.
Katie looked up. The moon gleamed eerily down through the fog, and suddenly it pulsated, growing suddenly dim and then instantly as bright as the sun before regaining its usual light. Katie stared at it in befuddlement; why was the moon going crazy?
A strange splashing sound drew her attention back to the lake. Someone was treading water as he made his way to shore. Someone who was faintly glowing. Someone who, thought Katie with a flutter in her stomach, is incredibly handsome. Even from a distance and at night, she could see his fair, noble face and long hair that brushed his shoulders. He wore a long-sleeved tunic, V-necked and hanging open over his chest, with a leather belt around his waist. There was a long, hooded cloak clasped around his neck. His legs were clad in tall stockings, but she couldn't see if he wore shoes or not because his feet were hidden beneath the water. In his right hand he held a long, thin sword. His eyes were wide and afraid.
When he reached the shore Katie realized several things. He wore no shoes; he looked to be around her age; and his ears were long and pointed.
The mist fled before him much faster than it had arrived. Weird, Katie thought. She watched as the mysterious being approached the dirt road, and she saw him draw back in fear as a car drove by. Katie's eyes widened in surprise. I don't think he's ever seen a car before.
He walked slowly and cautiously towards the road again. His eyes were flitting about nervously.
"Hey," Katie called out, straightening and walking away from the boulders. The strange figure gasped and swung his sword a
round to point at her. Taken aback, Katie took a step backwards and raised her hands to show that she was unarmed. "Hey! Calm down!"
"Who are you, and where am I?" he asked just as shakily, but his voice was almost musical and he spoke English with a strange, lilting accent.
"Uh…I'm Katie Smalls, and this is a lake in the White Mountains—in Arizona," she continued when he looked confused. "In the United States…of America," she continued, hoping to see some flicker of recognition.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Madam Smalls. Those titles are unfamiliar to me. What world is this?"
"Earth," Katie answered, looking at him uncertainly. Is he crazy? Did he get amnesia? Or… was Drorin right? That crazy bird…
"Halthren was right," he murmured. "Am I correct in guessing that you're a human?"
Katie nodded slowly, her forehead creased. This guy is weird. "Uh, yeah. And I don't want to be rude, but… what are you? Who are you?"
"I'm an elf," he answered. "My name is Joran. I am the prince of Kylaras. My father is dead, and my best friend was captured by demons in order to ensure my safety. Halthren—that's my friend's name—told me that there was…" Joran frowned, his gaze switching to something behind Katie.
"Katie? Who is that?" Cami asked. Katie turned to see her friend standing on the other side of the road, looking somewhat frightened and unsettled. Her brow was furrowed; she was frowning and wringing her hands in front of her.
Joran looked back at Katie. "Who is this? Can I trust her?" he asked nervously.
Cami stared at him. "What's going on—what are you speaking?" she asked. "It sounds like English but… not quite."
Joran drew himself up higher. "I speak the language of all nature. The trees, the animals, the plants…everything understands the words that I speak."
Katie felt a tremble of excitement. "Animals understand me, too. Can you tell me why?"
"You can…? You speak…?" Joran's eyes widened and he continued in an awed voice. "You're the human I needed to find! You can help me save Kylaras!"
Cami looked frightened. "Katie, what's going on? That thing isn't human! Get away!"
"You know about my gift," Katie stated, ignoring Cami, staring into Joran's eyes. She had so many questions. Why could she speak to animals? Why did she have an instinct for archery? How did she get her gifts, and were they really magic?
"Why do you need to know more?" Cami asked. "Just accept who you are and make the best out of it!"
"No," Katie said firmly. "There's something else going on here, Cami. This is proof." She gestured to Joran.
"You're right," the prince replied. "The 'something else' of which you speak is happening in Allagandria—the world that I come from. I have no idea how to return, but Halthren said you could help me. You said something about a gift. What exactly can you do?"
"I can speak to animals," Katie repeated. "And…archery comes naturally to me. And there are a few other things…"
"Those are only a fraction of your powers," Joran whispered. "There's more. I can sense it. You have much magic, Madam Smalls. I hardly know anything about it. Halthren does, but…he was taken. If we do not act swiftly he will…die. Please help me, Katie. I need to return to Allagandria. I must rescue Halthren."
Katie's shoulders sagged. "I don't know how to help. I mean, there are other odd little things I can do…like wish for a rainstorm and have it come true, and tell what certain minerals are and the worth of jewelry, and I can't be harmed by electricity, and I might be able to breathe underwater, but I don't see how any of that can help you. I'm sorry."
Joran looked crestfallen.
Cami eyed him nervously. "Katie…he has a sword. He could kill you!"
"You told me you read fantasy books, right?" Katie asked. "I've read several books where elves were a good, noble people." Joran looked up in surprise, and Katie continued, "This is an elf, Cami. What do you think about that?" She neglected to add that, while he said he was an elf, there was no way to verify the fact.
But somehow she knew that he didn't mean any harm. Being around him felt… good.
Cami's eyes widened. She looked at Joran again, studying his appearance intently. "He is an elf. But…he has a sword…and Emma woke me up from a nightmare when she told me you'd gone, so I'm already on edge."
"Emma?" Katie asked sharply. Great. Good job, Katie; looks like everyone will know about your abilities soon. "Where is she now?"
Cami gulped. "She went to get Mrs. Sorenson!"
Katie suppressed a groan. Fabulous. Now, on top of everything, we'll get busted, too. Then she considered the possibility of an actual elf running loose among modern-day humans and sickening dread filled her stomach. He'd be put in a scientist's lab at best and hunted down and killed at worst. There was only one thing to do—hide and keep Mrs. Sorenson from discovering anything, about her or Joran.
"Stay here," she whispered, suddenly hushing her voice. "I'll go up to the cabins and find out…whatever I can. If I tell you to run, you'd better run." Mrs. Sorenson would almost definitely see Joran as a dangerous creature. He was armed, for one, and probably knew how to use his sword very well.
But there was something different about him. He was good. Katie could feel it. Being in his presence made her feel as if there were no such thing as evil. And she could tell by looking into his eyes that he was being completely honest with her: he was an elf, and he desperately needed her help.
She raced back up the rocky path as fast as she could, trying not to think about how she was all alone in the dark in a forest, and when she reached the cabins she crept around them, staying beneath the windows and trying not to disturb the ferns growing beside them. She could easily tell which cabin belonged to Mrs. Sorenson; yellow light, presumably emanating from a flashlight, spilled out of the windows. Katie snuck over to it and pressed her ear against one of the cracks between two logs.
"…think she's in trouble! You have to do something!"
"So Katie walked out of bed as if she were in a trance and went down to the lake, where a glowing boy with a sword came out of the water and spoke to her?"
"Yes, Mrs. Sorenson! And there was a weird mist thing, and the boy looked weird, too!"
"What do you mean?"
"He had pointy ears and long hair, and his fingers were long, too. And he was barefoot, and he wore a tunic, and he glowed, and he had a sword!"
"Sounds like some sort of fantasy creature," Mrs. Sorenson inferred. "I think it was just a bad dream, Emma."
"No!" Emma exclaimed desperately. "It wasn't a dream! Please!"
Perhaps it was the frantic tone of her voice, or perhaps it was pure compassion, but Mrs. Sorenson left the cabin and peered down at the lake. Katie heard her gasp.
"My goodness," she breathed. "I haven't seen anything like that before, Emma! And I don't see Katie down there…what if he's done something horrid to her? Oh, I could never bear that…" She sounded as if she might cry. Katie felt guilt swim within her stomach.
"What do we do?" Emma asked urgently.
"I'm getting the tranquilizer gun I brought just in case. Then I'll call Ranger Perkins on the walkie-talkie to take him away. And… perhaps we shouldn't tell anyone. It would just make the other girls afraid, and we don't want to scare anyone else."
"Yes, ma'am," Emma replied fearfully.
"Go back to bed, then. I'll go get the creature."
Katie was running before the door opened. They couldn't tranquilize Joran and give him to a forest ranger. It wasn't right. She opened her mouth to shout, "Run!" but something held her back. What if the Cami and Joran weren't fast enough? Mrs. Sorenson would shoot the poor elf if they didn't get away in time. And even if they ran off, they could be tracked.
Then it came to her: Darktail could help.
Halthren
Halthren's Torment
The demons raced through the fair forests of Kylaras, hacking at trees as they went. He could hardly breathe from their overpowering rancid odor, and their Darkness was gn
awing at his strength. As of yet he could pretend that he felt nothing, but soon he knew it would become harder to ignore.
As soon as he'd awakened, the demons had stopped carrying him and forced him to run with his hands tied behind his back and his ankles bound so that he couldn't take large steps. I look like some sort of bird, waddling along like this, he thought self-consciously. They'd hiked through ravines, up and down a short snow-covered mountain range, among thick forests teeming with life and across three rivers. He was cold, soaked to the skin, and bruised. Since awakening he'd tripped five times, and the demon in charge had whipped him angrily until he stood up again.
He'd tried to escape—once. He'd secretly untied the ropes around his ankles and, the first chance he got, sprinted away from his captors in the opposite direction. But a well-aimed rock had sent him to the ground with a burning pain at the back of his head, and the demons had whipped him in punishment as they bound him tighter with the coarsest rope they had.
