The Summoning

by Dale Britton

  "You've never been through cheerleader practice," Sarah said. "It's a lot harder than it looks."

  "Enough chatter," Vesperr said. "The time has come to recommence your training."

  "Oh, happy day." Johnny dragged himself toward the field. "If I go through all of this and still get killed by a skeleton or something, I'm going to be really upset."

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  The next day was more of the same. Vesperr continued to concentrate on defensive strategies. They spent an hour and a half on shield work, then another two hours training with their practice swords. It was exhausting, and by lunchtime, even Sarah was feeling bad-tempered.

  After the break, Vesperr paired the teens with more experienced fighters to practice their new skills. Yrabelle sat in the bleachers and cheered as the humans attempted to block their adversaries' attacks. Ian turned out to be the best of the group. His work on the tennis team at school translated somewhat to using a sword and shield, and he was actually fairly competent.

  The rest of the group did alright, mostly staying on their feet and blocking the blows before they would have reached their vital organs. In fact, despite the bruises and the exhaustion, a feeling of confidence was slowly forming for each of them.

  Except for George. His biggest problem was that he was smaller than the others, even Sarah and Jordan. Even when he managed to block a thrust or parry a swing, the force of the blow would knock him off balance. More often than not he would end up off of his feet and lying on the ground. Normally, he'd be able to live with that. He was used to humiliation at school. But it was different here, with Yrabelle looking on while he was being thrown all over the place like a teddy bear. He began to wish the ground would just swallow him whole.

  But the earth stubbornly refused to hide him, and George dragged himself to his feet once more. Again, he stood before his opponent. Vesperr had chosen a smaller elf to face him, maybe trying to match George's size, but it didn't matter. George could barely even hold up his shield anymore, despite its small size. His sword weighed half a ton. When the elf swung at him, George lifted his weapon to parry. There was a dull clang of muffled steel, and even though the parry had been perfectly executed, the force of the blow still pushed George back several feet. His opponent followed through with a thrust, and George just barely got the shield up in time. And for the hundredth time today, he was unable to keep his footing against the force of the attack. He fell to the ground and lay there in misery.

  Please, no more.

  George felt something hard under his chest, digging into his skin, and realized that it was the potion vial from the store. He had been keeping it in his pocket since they had bought it. He pulled it out now and stared at it. His face reflected back at him in the blue crystal. Without thinking, he ripped the stopper out of the vial and poured the liquid down his throat.

  Later, when trying to explain why he had done it, he said that he had been so humiliated, and felt so terrible, that he was hoping that maybe it was an invisibility potion that would let him escape from the crowd of people at the training field. Or maybe it would contain some other miracle that would save him from his shame. Whatever he had been hoping for, George was not prepared for what actually happened.

  The liquid burned as it went down his throat, and George was certain at that instant that the shopkeeper had lied, and the vial had actually contained the worst poison known to man. Only an instant after drinking it, his entire body felt like it was burning, and he started to shake uncontrollably.

  "What's wrong with him?" someone yelled. It might have been Ollie. George vaguely felt hands trying to grab him, to hold him steady, but they were far away.

  There was pain. So much pain. And it was everywhere. His head hurt. His arms were on fire. His feet, his fingers, his legs. Everything. Every inch of his being was screaming at him. It felt like his body was trying to turn itself inside out.

  The pain went on forever. He heard voices calling his name, but he couldn't answer. He couldn't think. There was only the pain. He wanted to die.

  And then, all of a sudden, it was gone. The world slowly returned to his awareness. He was lying on the ground in the middle of the training field, and his friends were leaning over him.

  "George? Can you hear me?" Ian asked.

  "What happened?" George asked. "I feel strange."

  Ollie held the empty vial. "You drank this, and then you started having a fit. I thought you were having a seizure."

  "I think maybe I was. Man, that was horrible. But I feel alright now."

  "Are you sure?" Sarah asked. "You look a little different."

  "What do you mean?" George asked nervously. What had the potion done to him? He sat up, and when that seemed to go well, he picked himself up off of the ground. Everything felt fine. He wasn't even sore anymore. Then he noticed everyone was staring at him.

  "What? What's wrong with me?" He started to get scared.

  "Dude," Johnny said, "you have muscles."

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Training went much better for George from then on. Now his little wooden shield was much too small, and he switched to a large iron one. Now the techniques that Vesperr had been teaching him became effective. He could easily stand his ground against most attacks. Even when a sword blow passed through his defenses, he was able to keep his feet and remain steady.

  "A potion of strength," Ollie said. Vesperr had called an end to practice for the day, and he and Sarah were putting away their swords and shields. "Those are really rare, even in the game."

  "How long do they last? Aren't potions supposed to be temporary?"

  "Most of them are, but there are some that are permanent. The ones that change your stats are like that."

  "Let me guess," Sarah said. "Strength is a stat."

  "You got it."

  "So, this is the new George for real?"

  "I think so."

  "Everyone back home will be so surprised."

  Ollie had to laugh at that. "I'd like to be there the next time he goes to gym class."

  "Hey, Ollie," Ian called from the other side of the room. "Come over here. You have to see this."

  George lay on his back underneath a bench where Ian and Johnny were sitting. Jordan stood nearby.

  "Watch this," George said. He reached from the ground and pushed against the bottom of the bench. With no apparent effort, he lifted the bench off the ground, Ian and Johnny with it.

  "Now that's a real bench press," Ollie said. "And that's got to be, what? Over three hundred pounds?"

  "That's about what we figured," Ian said. "That's better than most of the football players can do."

  "And George made it look easy," Sarah said. "I'll bet he can lift more. Here, move over a little, Johnny. I'm getting on." She sat down on the end of the bench next to the brothers. "All right, George, try again."

  "Okay," George said. "Here goes."

  He pushed against the bench again, and it rose easily off of the ground. It was a little slower this time and obviously required more effort, but George was able to lift it.

  "Wow," Ollie said. "That's about four hundred pounds now."

  "Everyone get on," Sarah said. "Let's see if he can lift all of us!"

  "There's no room," Ian said.

  "We'll make room. Come on, Ollie. I'll sit on your lap and Jordan can sit on Ian's."

  "But that'll be like seven hundred and fifty pounds," Ollie protested, even though he was intrigued by the thought of Sarah sitting on his lap. "There's no way he can lift that."

  "Won't know until you try," Sarah said. "Come on."

  Of course, nobody could say no to Sarah. A few minutes later all five friends were perched somewhat precariously on the bench.

  "Okay George," Sarah said. "Go for it. Hold on to me, Ollie. I don't want to fall off."

  Ollie was happy to oblige.

  George took a deep breath, then pushed again against the bottom of the bench. At first, it didn't seem like he would be able to lift
the weight, but then the bench budged. George pushed harder, straining with all of his newly enhanced might. Slowly, the bench rose off of the ground until George's arms were completely extended. He held it for five seconds, then slowly lowered it back to the ground.

  "This is crazy," Ian said after they had all climbed off of the bench. "Nobody is this strong."

  "The crazy thing is you don't even look that strong," Ollie said. "I mean, it's obvious your body has changed and you're more muscular now, but you don't look like a bodybuilder. Whatever that potion did, it didn't just make your muscles larger. It changed them somehow."

  "That's kind of scary," Sarah said. "It won't hurt him, will it?"

  Ollie shrugged his shoulders. "I don't have any real-life experience with magic potions."

  "I just wish Yrabelle had been here to see me lift all of you," George said.

  Everyone was excited to go back to Lylor's home. The captain was due to be back tonight from his journey to the first of the locations on the map, and they were anxious to learn what the elves had found.

  But dinner passed and Lylor did not return. Everyone stayed up late, but when midnight came, and he still hadn't come home they had to accept that the party had been held up and wouldn't make it home that night. Surely, they would be back tomorrow.

  Nobody voiced the fear they all shared.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  The next day dawned, and George still had his new muscles. At the training center, Vesperr moved on to offensive strategies. He began to work the party on exercises to learn how to counterattack their opponents.

  "The best strategy is to use a defensive stance and wait for your opponent to make a mistake. Most of the enemies you will fight are not master swordsmen. If you are patient, you will discover a way to defeat them."

  "What if they are a master swordsman?" Johnny asked.

  "Then your best strategy would be to run away as fast as you possibly can."

  In this new world order, George was now the star of the show. Whenever he made contact with a counterattack, it was his opponent more often than not who fell to the ground or went flying backward. Before long, most of the elves obviously tried to avoid sparring against him. Nobody wanted to have a human novice make him look like an amateur. George, for his part, wasn't experiencing any adverse effects from the potion, and now he actually enjoyed himself.

  Lylor did not return that night.

  "Do not worry," Amyallyna said. "You do not know my husband. He is the greatest fighter in this region, and he has faced terrible dangers. He will return."

  And she proved to be right. The next morning, while the friends were practicing on the sparring field, there was a sound of fanfare from the front gates. Lylor had returned at last.

  The teens dropped their weapons and ran to the gate to meet the party, excited to see what Lylor had found. But when they reached the gate, they were greeted by the silence of a shocked crowd.

  Lylor had left with a party of five, but only three had returned. Two of the returning elves were carrying the third on a makeshift stretcher. The healers rushed forward to help them, taking charge of the injured elf. When they pulled back the blankets to examine the unmoving figure, the elf's face was revealed to the crowd.

  It was Lylor. His face was pale and covered with blood. His eyes were closed. He looked for all the world as if he were dead.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Lylor was taken to the halls of healing, and the two elves that had carried him were escorted to the council chamber, where they disappeared behind closed and guarded doors. No one was allowed into the chamber while the council questioned them.

  The human visitors went with Amyallyna and Yrabelle to the halls of healing to wait for news about Lylor. He had sustained serious injuries on his journey and was in severe shock. His right arm was broken, as were several ribs, and he had deep cuts in several places. He'd lost a lot of blood. It was a miracle that he had made it back to the settlement alive.

  As the group entered the building, they were directed down a long hallway to Lylor's room. They passed several healing wards as they walked down the hall. Ollie noticed that most of the rooms were occupied.

  "Why are there so many people here?"

  "Those are the victims of the black malady," Amyallyna said. "The healers have not been able to find a cure for the sickness. Sadly, there have been many that have not survived."

  "That's horrible!" Sarah said. "How does it happen?"

  "No one knows," Yrabelle said. "A person will be in perfect health, and then the next day he will have succumbed to the illness. Every week there are several more cases."

  "And none of them have gotten better?" Johnny said.

  "No," Yrabelle said. "Not yet. But the healers are experimenting with different treatments and healing spells. They are sure to find a cure."

  Lylor rested in a room by himself at the rear of the halls, watched over constantly by his own healer. He looked much better now that he had been cleaned and treated for his injuries.

  "We have mended his broken bones," the healer reported. "And the wounds have been closed. The worst danger has passed, and he is sleeping now. With time, he will make a full recovery."

  "Have you been able to speak with him?" Amyallyna asked. "Has he told you what happened?"

  The healer shook his head. "No, he has not yet regained full consciousness. It may be a day or even longer before he is able to communicate."

  So, the group settled in to wait. To wait for Lylor to wake up and tell them what happened on the journey. To wait for word from the council and a report from the surviving elves. To wait for something, for anything that would tell them what they needed to do next, and what hope they had for their future in this world or to return to their own.

  It was a very long wait.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Eventually, as the hour became late, Amyallyna sent her daughter and the human visitors back home in spite of their protests that they wanted to stay at the halls of healing and wait for Lylor to awaken.

  Amyallyna was adamant. "It may be a lengthy wait before my husband will be able to converse. There is no sense to all of us wasting our time here. You will be required later, and it will be better for everybody if you are not so tired that you can barely stand up. I will send word when my husband is well."

  Nobody was able to come up with a good argument, so the teens reluctantly returned to Lylor's home.

  "What do you think happened?" Johnny asked as they trekked across the settlement. "Was it demons?"

  "Maybe," Ollie said. "Probably. But we have no way of knowing. There are a lot of monsters out there. I'm just glad Lylor's going to be alright. He looked really bad when they brought him in."

  "I am aware that my father's work is dangerous," Yrabelle said. "Did you know that he fought against a vampire lord just last year? Those are terrible creatures, and my father helped defeat it. He has fought many such evils in his lifetime. But to see him like that today..."

  "I know," Ollie said. "I want to know what happened. They must have found something out there."

  "Something definitely found them," Ian said.

  It was a fitful night's sleep, but the friends were awakened in the morning by good news. Lylor was awake and he wanted to talk to them.

  On the way back to the halls, Johnny walked next to Jordan. He'd been wanting to talk to her again, but she'd been avoiding him. Avoiding everyone, actually, now that he thought about it. It seemed like Jordan had become even quieter than usual in the days since they had arrived in Valoria.

  "Hi," he said. "Are you alright?"

  "I'm fine," she said in a way that made it clear that she didn't want to talk to him.

  "I just wanted to tell you I really liked the dress you were wearing. I don't know why you were embarrassed about it."

  "Because it wasn't me," Jordan said. "I never should have put that stupid thing on. I don't wear dresses."

  "Why not?"

  "Look, Johnn
y, I know you're just trying to be my friend. Maybe you feel sorry for me or something. I just really don't want to talk about it."

  "Jordan, I'm not trying to be your friend. I am your friend. We've been playing this game together for almost five years, and I hardly even know you. I just think that's a little strange, that's all."

  He turned and started to walk away from her. "Oh," he said, turning back for a moment. "And you looked really nice with your hair down, too."

  With that, he left her alone.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Lylor was awake when the group crowded into his room. There was barely enough room for everyone to sit, but fortunately, Lylor had been given a large room and they managed to get enough chairs inside for everyone.

  "The council representative has already come to speak with me," Lylor said. "I told him what I could and then sent him away claiming fatigue. Not a lie, in fact. I am utterly exhausted."

  "Can you tell us what happened?" Ollie asked. "Or are you too tired?"

  Lylor laughed. "Of course not, though it is not a happy story. The journey to the target location passed with little difficulty. We encountered a small pack of poisonous squirrels, but they offered little in the way of resistance."

  "Poisonous squirrels?" asked Sarah.

  "Level one," George said. "Easy."

  "We arrived at the location just as darkness was falling, so we thought it best to camp for the night and conduct our search in the morning. We activated our wards and set a watch, and we survived the night unmolested."

  "What are wards?" Sarah asked.

  "They're kind of like the talisman Father Peter gave us," Ollie said, "except they're not mobile. You can set them up and activate them, and as long as you stay inside their area of effect, you're safe from most monsters."