“Let’s go back to the palace and figure this out,” Kestrel replied.
He took Putty’s arm and hooked his own through it, then proceeded to lead the two women back to the palace gate.
Chapter 33 – Following Kai’s Direction
“Kai told me two things,” Kestrel told Putty and Wren, along with Picco, Creata, and Ruelin, when they were back in the palace. He had insisted on calling his other friends together to hear the grim news that the goddess had delivered.
“The goddess spoke directly to you?” Ruelin asked. “You saw this?” he asked Wren.
“We followed him to the temple, and saw him standing there talking and listening for a long time,” Wren affirmed. “And then he made these two rings appear out of nowhere on our fingers,” she said. “But we didn’t see the goddess herself.”
“But we know Kestrel and the gods are allies,” Picco spoke up. “Remember the guards who saw the goddess speak to him in the battle for the palace?” she reminded her husband.
“She told me the Viathins have found a way around the protective water I set in place at the mountain lake,” Kestrel said. “And she told me to go fix it.
“She also said that,” he paused. He could not reveal that gods were missing, he decided. That would be too frightening a story to spread among the kingdoms of the Inner Seas.
“She said that I had to go rescue some captives the Viathins are holding in another world,” he amended his report.
“And,” he looked at Creata as he said the next statement, “she told me that Wren and Putienne would go with me. She gave me the rings for them, to help them with new abilities on the journey,” he added.
“No!” Creata immediately replied, as Kestrel had expected. “You cannot take my betrothed on such a perilous journey.”
Kestrel said nothing, knowing what was about to occur.
“Well of course I’ll go with him,” Wren said matter-of-factly. “He needs someone with him who can fight and protect him. We all know how fragile he is. Even with the yeti-girl along, Kestrel needs a lot of help.”
“You can’t go!” Creata pleaded. “Our wedding is only a few months away.”
“I’ll hurry him along, so that he doesn’t dawdle around the pretty girls the way he usually does,” Wren said lightly.
“And the girl? You’d take her on this dangerous quest?” Ruelin spoke up.
“Believe me, she can take care of herself, better than Kestrel in a knife fight,” Wren snorted with laughter.
“Wren, why are you making such light of the dangers of this journey?” Creata asked.
“Show them, Putienne,” Wren ordered.
Putienne’s eyes grew large, and she glanced at Kestrel, who nodded in agreement.
The room erupted in shouts, as the girl induced the change in her form, frightening the others as she suddenly towered over them all.
“And she’s still young,” Kestrel said lightly as she shifted back into her Moorin-form. “She’ll be even bigger soon.”
“How did she do that?” Picco asked, still standing wide-eyed.
“She was a yeti when I first met her,” Kestrel explained. “And we became friends, but for some reason, a yeti draws a lot of attention in a city, so we changed her shape, and now the goddess’s ring allows her to control her own appearance.”
“And you have a ring too? Can you become a monster?” Creata asked.
“She doesn’t need a ring for that,” Kestrel said in a stage whisper, drawing a punch to the shoulder from Wren.
“I don’t know what the ring does for me, but when I find out, I’ll test it on Kestrel, believe me,” she responded.
“Kestrel, one time you went into the mountains and lived with gnomes. This time you befriended a yeti. I’m afraid to know what will happen next time,” Creata joked.
“It is liable to be a dangerous journey, but the imps will be with us, and the goddess, and perhaps even others,” Kestrel tried to address the concerns. “The goddess says this must be done, and from what we know of the Viathins, we know it as well,” he said.
“He’s right,” Picco addressed her brother and husband. “We know he is.
“Just tell us how we can help you on your way to success,” she spoke to Kestrel, as the others nodded agreement.
“Thank you, Picco,” Kestrel smiled at the girl, wondering for a flicker of a second what his life would be like if he had married her.
“I’d like to take a look at any maps you have. Tomorrow we can see if that helps decide the route to follow, and we can prepare for the journey,” he said.
The group broke up and went to bed soon afterwards.
In the morning, Kestrel awoke to the sight of a yeti hovering over his bed, incongruously grinning with a mouthful of sharp and dangerous teeth. Putty reverted to her other form.
“Were you scared?” she asked eagerly.
“How could I not be?” he replied.
“You weren’t scared at all,” she accused.
“How many days have I lived with you as a yeti?” he asked.
“I know,” she moaned.
“Don’t worry, there will be many times for you to change shapes, I’m sure,” Kestrel comforted her as he got out of bed. “And you’ll frighten lots of people.”
Happier, Putty waited in the hall for Kestrel to dress, and they went to breakfast together.
That day Kestrel was shown all the maps that were available showing the lands south of Seafare and Lakeview, along the coasts that were charted. Kestrel found that the lands he had traveled through the previous autumn, the Western Mountains and the lands of the gnomes and elves of the south, were unknown, as was the Dangeaux River and the route to the high mountain lake he expected to visit. The maps were of little value.
“Stillwater, Stillwater, Stillwater,” Kestrel called after studying the map.
“Lord Kestrel friend, traveler of the lands, we have not been here in many months,” Stillwater spoke as he looked around the otherwise empty room. “How have you been? Has the evil one attacked recently?”
“The evil one is temporarily vanquished, but the story that remains is troubled. The human goddess tells me that the Viathins are coming back to our world, and I must go back to the land where we beat them before, to seal off and prevent their return. Will you and your companions help my company on this quest?” Kestrel asked.
Stillwater’s countenance grew grave. “This is a troubling message, my friend,” the imp replied. He floated down to the floor, and began to pace about, deep in thought.
“We will help of course. Tell me what plan you have,” he said.
Kestrel led the way to the map he had studied.
“My cousin Wren, Putty the yeti, and I will travel to the place where the Viathins can be stymied,” he pointed to an unmarked area of the map. “It is a long journey. I would ask you and the other imps to carry us to the place where Canyon was harmed in battle,” Kestrel moved his finger to the approximate location of that site, also unmarked on the map. “That help will make the journey shorter, and help a great deal.”
“And then we would remain with you?” Stillwater asked, peering at the map, and slowly rising off the floor as he examined the plan. “That is all?”
“There is more, but I will not trouble you with the future’s problems yet,” Kestrel answered.
Stillwater was silent momentarily, and then more blue bodies started to arrive.
“Acanthus! Mulberry! Odare! Killcen! Why, Dewberry, queen most magnificent!” Kestrel spoke in wonder at the gathered forces.
“Kestrel, wonder of the elves, and friend of the imps and sprites,” Dewberry replied. “I understand that you go on a deadly quest, and I understand that you need assistance and advice, so I have offered to be your leader once again,” she said in a regal voice, then smiled and hugged him tightly.
“Would you like to see my daughter?” Kestrel blurted out the question, anxious to show Merea to the queen.
There was an uproar of
approval, and Kestrel set the palace alive with astonishment as he led a parade of imps through the halls to the nursery, picking up Putienne on the way.
“She is a beautiful child,” the imps unanimously agreed, as the frazzled nurse maid wordlessly backed away from Kestrel, who held the baby as the small blue beings gathered around.
“She must take after her mother,” Mulberry pronounced, “for she is far more beautiful than any child of Kestrel’s would be expected to achieve.”
“Shall we go ask Picco who the real father is?” Odare asked.
The general disparaging of Kestrel went on between the two witty imps, but Kestrel paid little attention, as he held the infant, and looked down at her as she rested in his arms.
He wanted her to have a good future, one that was safe from fears about Viathins. Going on his quest was the way to give Merea freedom, and he intended to do it, no matter how hard the road, or how long the journey.
Watch for the continuation of Kestrel’s adventures, as he travels to the southern lands and encounters former friends and adversaries while carrying out his quest to seal the land of the Inner Seas from a second Viathin invasion.
The travelers assembled in the garden of the palace early the next morning. They carried light packs of limited supplies for their initial foray into the southern lands. Kestrel expected that the imps would provide a means of easy resupply as they needed, and he wanted to travel as fast and light as possible. He knew what Wren and Putienne were capable of, and he was pleased with the prospect for their speedy trip ahead.
“Take the imps to our destination and make sure there is no trouble waiting for us,” he told Stillwater. “Odare went last night and reports that the site was peaceful.”
“I have already heard her report,” the leader of the imp contingent answered with equanimity. “We will go now,” he agreed, and all the imps disappeared from the air over the garden, as the humans of Seafare stood and watched.
Kestrel carried a purse with a few gold coins, and a few pearls. He had been astonished to hold a meeting with a Seafare jewelry trader during his visit to the city.
The imps had helped him fetch a small chest of pearls from his Oaktown treasury, and he had discovered that the jewels were even more highly coveted in Seafare than they had been in Hydrotaz or Graylee. He’d sold a substantial number, arranged for many others to be woven into a necklace that would be a future princely gift for Merea, and given more to Creata to do the same for Wren.
He didn’t anticipate there would be opportunities to spend the wealth in the wilderness, but he felt slightly more prepared for the unexpected.
“Our landing place remains empty, Kestrel friend,” Stillwater reported as the imps reappeared.
“Good bye, Creata,” Wren gave her fiancée a final hug and kiss.
A chorus of farewells broke out, and then the imps surrounded the travelers, and the group disappeared from Seafare.
The impact of revisiting the campsite in the former Southern Forest was immediate. As soon as the imps restored Kestrel to the reality of the site, his eyes took in the fateful place where so much had happened.
The hillside was greener than he remembered from the previous fall, as was to be expected. But the new greenery had grown rampantly, and young trees appeared to have achieved three or four years’ growth in the span of a few months.
He saw the spot where Canyon had been killed, and he saw the fragmented stones on the hillside, where he had expended deadly energy killing the southern elves. He had been driven to excessive violence by the spirit of the Viathin energy that had possessed him at the time. His eyes had been black, as his spirit had been while he fought off the possession by the energy within him.
But above those sights, he saw the hidden entrance to the cave. In that cave, Hierodule had given birth to a son, to a little boy who had been named Canyon in honor of the imp who had died in the battle there.
“Let’s go visit the cave,” Kestrel indicated to the others. He started walking up the hillside.
There was a roar behind him, and he whirled to see that Putty had returned to her native form as a yeti, and was celebrating her joy by roaring and stretching. He turned back around and smiled, then continued up the hill.
“Why visit a cave?” Wren asked as she caught up with him.
“Just because,” Kestrel replied. “I know it’s here, and I remember a little baby boy who was born here. He’s still alive today, as far as I know.”
Kestrel had considered the prospect that his group might run into the small band of southern elves. He might see Hierodule and her sister Hye. He might see Moorin.
But if they did not run into the elves by happenstance, he told himself, he would not lead them out of their way to find the elves. He would not lead them to find Moorin.
He reached the hidden entrance to the cave, and twisted around behind the stone that obscured it from view. Even if they did not run into the southern elves, he certainly intended to try to find the gnomes of the Western Mountains. He would see friends among the gnomes – Greta and Hansen, among others – and he was sure to receive a warm welcome as a survivor of the unusual Garrant Spark that had helped sustain him and take him to victory over Ashcrayss.
But most of all, he wanted the gnomes to provide a guide that could lead his band across the Dangueax River, on the path to the isolated lake where the fortunes of men and elves and imps and Viathins had been reversed, and now were apparently reversed again.
“What is this place?” Putty asked. She had resumed her non-yeti shape to speak to him.
“It’s a cave where I camped with elves last year when we were running away from the Uniontown forces,” he said. He looked at the spot where Canyon had been born, and then at the spot where he and Moorin had laid side-by-side.
“There’s nothing else to see,” he said, turning away from the entry, leaving the others to scratch their heads.
“Stillwater, we’re going to go south by southwest from here, staying in the mountains. Would you send scouts out in that direction to make sure the paths are safe?” he asked.
“And if you see any gnomes, they will be friends. Tell me and let me talk to them,” he directed.
“You have plans?” Mulberry asked. “Who knew? When did you mean to tell us this?”
“I hate to spoil the surprise,” he grinned at the imp.
“And don’t forget, Stillwater,” he shouted a reminder, “we’ve got three elves running now, so the pace will be fast.”
They started running, Putty yet again a yeti. The pace was fast, but easy for all of them. Though they were in the Western Mountains, the terrain was not as rough as the Water Mountains had been, and the flying imps scouted out the best routes, allowing the earthbound runners to make good time.
“So Kestrel,” Wren pulled up almost alongside him to speak as they loped through the mountains. “What does this ring of mine do, the one that you said came from Kai?”
“I don’t know,” Kestrel admitted. He had wondered the same thing, then forgotten about the ring as he prepared to depart.
“Did you give me the broken one, and save the good one for your lovely young yeti protégé?” she asked. “Or did you expect her to always look like the one who got away?”
“I think they both can do the same thing,” Kestrel said, stung by the barb. “You just haven’t used yours to stop being a monster!” he laughed, then sprinted ahead to avoid Wren’s vicious punch.
They traveled through the mountains for two days, leaving the regenerating Southern Forest behind as they traveled in the direction of the gnomes. At noon of the second day, Stillwater’s scouts reported signs of a gnomish patrol on the path ahead. Kestrel plumed the depths of his memory to find his rudimentary fragments of the language of the gnomes, and he prepared himself to greet his no-longer-so-distant friends.
The meeting began on an unpromising note. “Let your guards take positions high in the air,” Kestrel insisted to a resistant Stillwater, as they a
pproached the spot where the gnomes were known to be stationed.
“How can we guard you if we are not close enough to protect you?” Stillwater complained.
“I’ll need no protection from the gnomes,” Kestrel said. “I have their own purple eyes,” he explained as he motioned carelessly towards his face.
“Kestrel-daredevil, you better keep those purple eyes open and watch out for trouble then, because we won’t be close enough to help you if they are not as hospitable as you seem to think,” Stillwater refused to concede the argument. “Gnomes can be a touchy people. I don’t know how you managed to work your way into the good graces of two sets of them,” he spoke in a way that clearly showed he resented Kestrel’s unwarranted success in gaining the trust of the reclusive race.
Kestrel’s level of trust proved to be shallower than he had expected. The imps had flown high above the tree canopy, and the three elves had slowed from a run to a walk, as they traveled in a tight cluster through the forest of the gnomes.
“Look out!” Putienne called, as she spotted a large rock hurtling towards them from the canopy of the tree branches spread overhead. She dove forward into Kestrel and Wren, spreading her arms wide to grab them as she flew through the air, and changed form at the same time. Her arms lengthened as they reached, and her skin became hide, so that she turned into a living shield, able to absorb the impact of the first stone thrown with deadly intent by one of the gnomes.
“This is not right!” Kestrel said angrily, upset by the ambush the gnomes had sprung.
He raised a blue dome of protective energy overhead, then struggled out from beneath Putty’s weight, and looked around angrily.
The gnomes were stunned by the unexpected reactions of their targets. The female elf had changed into a yeti, and then a male elf had raised the energies of some otherworldly being. No gnomes made any sounds; none moved a muscle for several seconds.
“All at once – bombard them!” the patrol leader ordered, and a heavy hail of stones came raining down upon the three entities who stood safely inside Kestrel’s dome, as heavy stones struck and bounced off his shield, doing no harm, other than where they created a nuisance as some of the spent missiles piled up across the path, falling and tumbling along the dome’s perimeter.
The Guided Journey (Book 6) Page 37
