Fate of Thorik
Page 40
Thorik helped Grewen load the boat just as the first light of day crested over the distant mountains. The cool moist air felt good as it drifted off the lake into Thorik’s face. “I’m glad your nephew was willing to lend us his boat.”
“He doesn’t use it anymore now that he’s settled down with a family.”
The long rowboat was wide enough for Grewen to sit in. Toward the back on both sides, long thin floating stabilizers were connected by angled beams to make sure that they were not in the way of rowing. It was sea worthy and functional but not fancy. No markings or trim to add any class; however, the design was smooth and pleasing to the eye.
Thorik turned to see Brimmelle running after Gluic as she raced down the street wearing nothing but her undergarments. She was free like always, enjoying life wherever it took her. She reminded Thorik of his mother and how she never seemed to let things get her down. She could roll with whatever came at her as she enjoyed the ride. Somehow he felt he was starting to lose that part of himself.
“Thorik?” Grewen asked. “You with me?”
Thorik snapped out of his daydream and answered, “Yes, what do you need?”
“Round everyone up so we can leave.”
Thorik did just that. He walked off the dock and back onto the cobblestone way, informing Brimmelle and Gluic that it was time to leave before heading toward the Inn to inform Ambrosius and Avanda. He met the two halfway to the Inn. The hood of his cloak hid the E’rudite’s face as he walked with the Num youth.
“And then I caught a Myth’Unday in my hands,” Avanda told Ambrosius as they walked along. She had been explaining all of her high adventures to him ever since they left the Inn. “You should have seen it. She was so adorable with her little wings. And then she changed into a butterfly and flew away.”
“Why hide?” Thorik asked Ambrosius, once Avanda finally took a breath. “These people aren’t looking for you. You’re safe here.”
“You are mistaken. I am not safe any place at this time. Safer, perhaps, but not safe.”
They walked to the boat where they met Brimmelle and Gluic climbing aboard the large rowboat. Circling overhead, Draq waited impatiently for the group to leave.
Grewen was the last to get on. Sitting in the center to help balance out the boat, the Mognin pushed off from the dock. Grabbing the paddles, which were attached to the boat with metal pivot joints, he turned the boat around to head away from the shore.
The giant slowly began to row the boat between the many obstacles in their path. Sunken chimneys and roof peaks covered the watery landscape, looking like tombstones floating on the misty lake. Branches of forgotten trees scraped the bottom of the boat, like fingers of those who had been lost in the great flood. The old city of Pelonthal rested under the water. It was a constant reminder of the Civil War’s destruction.