Lesser Prince (Guardians of Gaeland Book 1)
Page 8
Sam heard the old woman issue a command he couldn’t understand. It became obvious that she’d directed the dogs to give chase, as they effortlessly jumped off the trail, following his descent down the mountainside. Sam narrowly avoided bodily damage as he dodged trees and rocks, certain that he left some skin behind. The gambit had at least given him a small advantage, but the dogs were getting closer. Sam reached the trail about ten feet ahead of them. His ribs were hurting and he found it hard to breathe, but he was still in one piece and on his feet.
Without hesitation, Sam took off at a run. He’d never been fast. Had he thought about it, he’d have known that outrunning any dog was impossible. Fear, however, overrode rational thought. The dogs closed the distance and Sam felt their presence bearing down on him. It was then that a change overtook his body. At first, he only noticed that the dogs were falling back and the trees were moving past him at a considerable rate. He'd outdistanced them by a hundred yards, then two hundred yards and then he could no longer see them as he wound his way down the mountain trail. Looking down, he realized his body had transformed, it was translucent or gaseous. Weird! He had the presence of mind to wonder if he was dreaming. It didn’t, however, change his desire to separate himself from the dogs.
Instead of an hour passing, Sam came upon the cabins within minutes, still flying along the path at an incredible rate of speed. He saw each cabin and was past them in virtually no time at all. Ahead, he saw a horse and rider. By the time he figured out it was Traux, he’d overshot him. Sam stopped his pell-mell sprint and ran back up the path.
The golden horse reared up, startled by Sam’s arrival. Traux leaned into the horse’s neck, gently calming the frightened animal. Traux hopped down to the ground continuing to speak gently to the horse. “Sam, you need to be careful, you’ve frightened my young mare.”
Sam’s mind whirled with confusion. It was all too much; the malevolent woman, her two huge scary dogs, a panicked flight, and an inexplicable ghostly transformation. Sam sat on the ground hard, his body returning to a normal, solid shape. Too much! His head fell between his knees as he fought to maintain consciousness.
***
The old crone watched the young Elendahl boy fling himself off the edge of the mountain. “How insane,” she muttered. “He has no idea what we have in store for him, yet he is willing to risk everything to run away. Bring him to me, mostly alive,” She commanded her two remaining worgs. Although, nearly dead would work just fine too, she mused.
Within a few minutes the beasts returned, defeated. They were simple creatures who operated instinctively, so it would do no good to berate them for their failure. She peered into the mind of the smaller one to see what had transpired. The crone was shocked to see the boy cast a wind-walk spell while running full-out away from the worgs. She couldn't see words forming on the boy’s mouth, but wind-walk he had, nevertheless.
This boy had activated his powers instinctively, just as Prince Tigerious had when she tried and failed to capture him. The thought caused her to shudder at what it would mean if these young wizards actually came to understand their capabilities. Fortunately, there were very few left who could teach either boy how to hone their magic.
The old woman returned her attention to the beast's memory. The boy had run into one of those blasted elves. This would be why the worgs had broken off. She had drilled into her beasts that once the odds shifted, they weren't allowed to make decisions but must return to her. The crone’s effectiveness depended on her little group’s survival. Losing her most aggressive worg in Iowa was a considerable setback. She could not afford to lose either of her remaining beasts.
Fate had aligned to bring both heirs sought by Prince Blackhall to Helicon. It would be best to report to Blackhall and let him deal with it. She had hoped to return with the heirs, but this would work just as well.
Faire
Traux looked back up the trail. The boy had been running from something. At the edge of the path, several hundred yards back, he had caught a glimpse of a large animal. He hoped his senses were wrong and it wasn’t the beast he feared. His eyesight was extraordinarily keen, but the distance was great, even for him. He would investigate later.
Looking back to the boy holding his head between his legs, Traux wondered what could possibly have happened. Traux had never seen someone who could cast a wind-walk spell, but he was certain that the young Elendahl had invoked it.
"Sam, are you okay?"
Sam's head was spinning. He wasn't sure what should be freaking him out the most; the confrontation with a strange old lady, the huge wolves or the fact that he had gone all 'Casper the Ghost.' He barely heard Traux speaking, but managed to ask without looking up, "Is there anything still chasing me?”
"No, I don't see anything." Traux moved closer and sat on the grass next to Sam. "What was it Sam? What were you running from?"
Sam had no reason to distrust Traux, but he also didn't have any particular reason to trust him either. It was strange that everyone here could be a clone of Traux. All except the crazy old lady and her killer dogs, he told himself. Sam pushed those thoughts away and clung to the logic that had always served him well. He knew that many dogs had a built-in chase instinct; they literally couldn't stop themselves from chasing something that was fleeing. He could have caused all of this by his own actions. Sam decided not to make more out of what happened than he had to. He would deal with the crazy ghost thing later. There had to be a good explanation, he was sure of that.
"Oh, uh, nothing really. I got spooked while hiking. You know how it is. I just freaked myself out." His words didn't sound convincing, even to himself.
Traux replied evenly, "I see. Well good! When you first got here, I thought there might be trouble, but it looks like you have things under control. Did you make it to the top of Mount Heli?"
"It was awesome!" Sam's face lit up, remembering the vista. "When is the Faire running? I saw tents and buildings. It looks really cool! And the castle … I can't believe there’s a real castle here."
Traux grinned widely, "The Faire is happening right now, but many artisans live here year round, so it’s always busy. The castle is the main residence of the Parnassus Family." Traux pointed to the embroidered emblem on his green collared shirt. It read, "House of Parnassus" with "Equestrian Center" just below that.
Traux jumped to his feet and walked back to his honey-colored mare. With a single effortless movement he remounted, settling into the well-worn saddle. "Can I give you a lift to the Equestrian Center?"
Sam considered turning him down, but the thought of the old lady and her dogs made him think better of it. "Uh, yeah. Why not?" As Sam got to his feet he realized that his backpack was missing, apparently having fallen off during his wild ride down the side of the mountain. "Ah nuts, I must have dropped my backpack!"
Traux considered this, "How about we take a run up and find it." Grabbing Sam’s arm, Traux easily swung him up onto the horse. "I’ll need to stop in and tell my crew where we are headed."
He turned the horse and they rode in silence, turning onto the path sporting the ‘Livery’ sign. Within a few minutes they rode up to the barn Sam had seen from the top of Mount Heli. Up close, he saw that this barn was considerably more utilitarian than the Equestrian Center, albeit just as sturdily built.
Traux helped Sam slide off the back of the horse, hopped off himself, handed the reins to Sam and headed into the barn. After several minutes, Traux returned with a second horse in tow. It was a beautiful gray paint, fully saddled. "Take your pick," he nodded at the two horses. "It will go more quickly if we ride separately."
Sam had been rubbing the shoulder of the honey colored horse, "How about this one?"
"A good choice. Her name is Halvah, because she’s as sweet as the honey bread made in the village. She’ll treat you well." Traux's voice was cheerful. Since he and Traux were roughly the same size, the stirrups looked to be in a reasonable position. He easily swung his body up onto the beautiful
animal. Traux led them back to where they rejoined the mountain trail. Sam had no desire to go back up Mount Heli, but he also couldn't imagine just leaving his backpack.
Traux pulled the paint to a stop and jumped to the ground at the exact spot where Sam had vaulted down from the upper path. Sam would never have recognized the spot and wondered how Traux had located it so easily. Traux's face tightened as he crouched to inspect the ground next to the trail. He walked up and down, stopping here and there, but focusing tightly on the mountainside.
"Ah, there it is." he pointed up the steep incline. Sam followed an imaginary line from the end of Traux's finger straight up the hill. Sure enough, about forty yards up, Sam saw his pack resting on the ground.
"That was quite a tumble. You must be made out of some tough stuff, Sam Elendahl." Traux scrambled up the side of the mountain, grabbed the pack and returned to the trail. "How about we head back around the switchback and make sure nothing fell out at the top?"
Sam searched his pack and didn't see anything missing. Regardless, it was a good idea, at least as long as Traux was along. "Sounds good," he replied. A few moments later they reached the point where the old woman had first cornered Sam. On the side of the trail he saw his flashlight. Sam’s skin felt clammy and his stomach rolled. Fear coursed through his body as he scanned up and down the trail looking for any sign of danger.
Traux dismounted and looked carefully around, picking up the flashlight and handing it up to Sam. He could see the turmoil in his face. "Sam, there is nothing here anymore. Whatever you ran into has long since moved on."
Traux's voice broke Sam's train of thought, snapping him out of the destructive reverie.
They rode back down the mountain to the Livery without much conversation. Sam helped put Halvah back into a stall, thanked Traux and headed to the Equestrian Center via the busier gravel service road. He caught up with his sister and mother as they were leading Wild Grey back to the barn, still wet with perspiration from a hard workout. The two were deep in conversation about a riding technique. Though Sam found it quite uninteresting, their presence made him feel grounded again.
"What's up this afternoon?" Sam broke the silence that had fallen over the group as they stowed items used in Grey's workout.
Jessie smiled at Sam, figuring he probably had something in mind. "I was thinking about cleaning out the truck and trailer, want to help?"
"Moooom! You can't be serious. Do you have any idea what's around here?" Sam was only slightly exasperated. Jessie's smile gave him hope that she would be flexible.
"No, but I have a feeling you might just tell me. How about this; let's get some lunch, spend twenty minutes cleaning out the truck and then we'll head out on your adventure."
Sam figured he wasn't getting out of cleaning the truck, but he still had to try.
"Really? Clean the truck? Where is the fun?"
Jessie wasn't listening. Work first and then play. It was the Elendahl way. The three of them made quick work of the truck, picking wrappers and plastic bottles from every nook and cranny. Satisfied, Jessie finally turned to Sam, "Okay, Sammy. What do you have for us?"
"The Faire in full swing a couple of miles from here." Sam didn't try to keep the excitement from his voice, "I really want to go. But that isn't even the biggest thing, they have a castle. Traux called it the main residence, but I saw it from the mountain, it's a castle!" Jessie and Amber exchanged a look and both started laughing. It was unusual for Sam to get so excited and it was fun to watch. "Awww, come on," he said. "I promise it will be great."
“Alright, why not, sounds like fun. Let’s pull the trailer off the truck and we can drive over after we get cleaned up.” Jessie sounded upbeat.
An hour later the group met at the truck with Sam directing Jessie to drive back down the asphalt road to the fork. This time instead of heading out to Dauxal’s cottage and the gate, they turned northeast, following signs to the Faire and Main Residence.
The road snaked through the hills, completely surrounded by thick pines. It was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to wane in the sky, dark clouds threatening to bring an early end to the day. They passed a group of small, neatly arranged homes, some made from logs, others from stone. The picture-book scene suggested both careful planning and an artistic eye. Amber imagined how beautiful Christmas would be here, especially if this part of West Virginia got snow.
The trees surrounding the buildings opened into a natural clearing and they were rewarded with a fantastic view of the Faire beyond. This was like no county fair back home. They were used to a busy carnival atmosphere with tents, vendors, rides for the kids and barns for the livestock shows, but nothing prepared them for this. While relatively modest in size, the Parnassus Faire was like another world. Every detail was designed to transport visitors into a charming old European village.
Jessie pulled the truck into a parking lot tucked into the trees and they walked to the village along a wide cobblestone path. Brightly colored banners hung between the buildings, displaying information about each particular block. Flagpoles sported national flags and family crests, while large pennants with block letters described the artisan occupying each building. The Elendahls wandered through the streets, heads swiveling back and forth as they tried to take in all the sights.
The smell of baking bread and roasting meat filled the air. There were jugglers and magicians, musicians and artisans of all types. The atmosphere was friendly and relaxed. Benches were scattered around the performer’s platforms and tables placed near big fire pits, no doubt to entice the tired, cold or hungry to stop.
Amber wandered over to a huge round building, its sides opened to the breeze. The flag flying at the entrance said, ‘Resident Blacksmith.’ A huge furnace glowed red hot, and smoke billowed out of the center chimney. The man inside was busy heating and then hammering long pieces of metal, but stopped periodically to explain what he was doing. Today he was working on a metal gate for one of the cottages, and had materials lined up along his work bench for projects commissioned by tourists and locals.
In the square, a furniture maker fit together a beautiful rocking chair. In the clothing store, a woman sat, stitching the Parnassus crest onto green shirts stacked beside her. Blue jeans and work pants filled cubicles along the walls.
As she completed her circuit, Amber joined Sam and Jessie at the back of a small crowd watching a woman spin tufts of fur into thread on her loom. Brightly colored socks and baby garments hung from a clothesline behind her. Everything was handmade and seemed to be of superior quality and style.
It finally hit Amber. “This is year round, isn’t it? This isn’t just a fair to entertain tourists, it’s their home.”
Sam smiled at his big sister, “Yes, I was talking to Traux and he said that most of the artisans live here fulltime.”
“Traux? You spoke to Traux? I didn’t see him at all this morning!” Amber’s voice was higher pitched than she intended, perhaps giving away more than she would have liked.
Sam didn’t miss it, enjoying a chance to needle his sister, “Oh, yeah, we went riding up into the mountains. Too bad you missed it.” That wasn't what Amber wanted to hear and she raised her arm as if to whack him. Turning blindly from his sister and bolting off into a run, Sam pulled up sharply, barely missing another Faire goer. Jax Fenhall, Ardt’s foul tempered father, stood inches away, glaring through Sam into the crowd.
“Elendahls, I wouldn’t have expected to see you here.” Jax’s voice was condescending and rough. Instead of looking at Sam who had nearly run him down, he glared straight across at Amber, “I didn’t realize the Parnassuses were extending charity invitations to weaker competitors.”
Amber was glad they’d moved out of their mother’s earshot. Both siblings stood flat-footed and grim, not knowing how to respond to this cruel man. Jax certainly knew where to strike. Amber’s cheeks flushed red and she felt the sense of shame that he could deliver so well. As intended, Jax had all but ruined the magic of the t
own.
Pleased with himself, Fenhall looked up and beyond them, smiled and strode off purposefully. Sam, knowing the effect Jax’s words would have on her, blurted out loudly, “Why's he in such a hurry? Does he have a puppy to drown?”
Amber, whose eyes had followed the retreating Fenhall, processed Sam’s words for a moment, scolded him, “Sam, what a horrible thing to say.” It caused her to smile, however, and the dark cloud of Jax’s presence lifted.
Lanterns and candles were lit up and down the streets as darkness fell on the small village. The Elendahls found a small café with a roaring fire in a large fireplace. The night air was chilly and it was a great spot to enjoy their evening meal.
“So Sam, how did you know about this Faire? I suppose it was on your map, eh?” Jessie wasn’t prying as much as trying to engage her son, who had fallen quiet.
“Yes, I saw it on the map, but I also saw it from the top of Mount Heli.” Sam was proud of his accomplishment. He pulled his map from the pack and pointed to where Mount Heli was located, back behind the Equestrian Center.
“That looks like quite a hike. Were there many people on the trail?” It was an innocent question but, as these things go, a mother’s intuition is often uncanny.
“Not really.” Sam knew better than to make something up, especially when he wasn’t really sure about everything that had happened that morning.
Jessie laughed, “Not really? So who did you run into? Anyone interesting?”
Sam knew he might as well spill the beans. He had expected to tell her about it at some point and this was as good a time as any. He felt Amber’s eyes on him. She sensed that the tone of the conversation had changed. “I kinda ran into another hiker who had a couple of large dogs that weren’t on leashes.”
Sam recounted the events of the morning, leaving out the part where he had turned vaporous. He was careful to skirt around anything that might sound too dramatic. Spending more time describing the trip back up the mountain with Traux. After telling this version, Sam almost convinced himself that the encounter was benign.