by F. P. Spirit
Glo gazed at the lady knight for a few moments, then gently shook his head. “No. She isn’t.”
Aksel peered up at him with a wan smile. “I’m sorry, Glo, but we need to decide what we are going to do. Anya’s ship is heading back this way.”
The little cleric pointed a finger toward the northeast. The Princess’ airship could clearly be seen crossing the sky, as it banked around back in their direction. It was still over a mile away, but once it picked up speed, it would be on them in no time.
Glo forced himself to forget Elistra for the moment. There would be plenty of time to feel sorry for himself later. Right now, his friends were in trouble, and they needed his expertise. His tone was firm as he answered Aksel’s original question. “What we’re going to do is hide.”
Cyclone folded his arms across his chest. “That won’t work against dragons. They’ll smell you out as good as if they could see you.”
The corners of Glo’s mouth upturned slightly. “Not if you’re on another plane.”
The dragon hunter eyed him sharply. “Not even gonna pretend I know what you’re talking about.”
Glo responded with a closed mouth laugh, then strode off purposely toward the woods. “Follow me and you’ll find out.”
Glo led them a short way into the forest, finally halting at a small break between the trees. The wizard shifted his gaze to Elladan. “Do you have any rope?”
“Always,” Elladan responded with a half-smile. The elven bard unslung his pack and swiftly rummaged through it, producing a hefty length of rope.
Glo nodded toward the ground in front of them. “Lay it there.”
Elladan did so and then stepped back. Without a word, Glo spun his arms in a circular pattern, ending the design with the words, “Funem Dolum.”
The magic released, coalescing around the length of rope on the ground. A bluish aura surrounded the coils, then the rope snaked straight up as if it were alive. When it was done, the base of the rope hung a few feet off the ground. The rest of its length stretched upward nearly thirty feet above them, the very top disappearing into a fluffy white cloud.
Elladan clasped the elven wizard on the shoulder. “Ah, the old Rope to Nowhere! Very clever.”
Cyclone eyed the cloud skeptically. “Ain’t that thing a little small to hide all of us?”
Glo grimaced at the stony-faced hunter. “It’s bigger inside than it looks.”
The companions climbed the rope one at a time, Glo leading the way. As he had told Cyclone, the space inside the cloud was larger than it appeared from the outside, easily large enough to fit all eight of them comfortably.
Cyclone was the last one up. He climbed in next to Glo, and looked down at the dangling rope. “Ain’t that gonna look kind of conspicuous just hanging there?”
Glo hauled up the rope and layered the coils next to him, then folded his arms and glared at Cyclone. After Elistra’s letter, he was not in the best of moods, and the dragon hunter’s questioning him was beginning to wear thin. “Any more comments?”
Cyclone stared back at Glo, completely unperturbed by the wizard’s ire. After a few moments of silence, he finally responded. “Just one. This fluffy little cloud is cute and all, but ain’t it gonna stand out in this forest like a sore thumb?”
Glo narrowed his eyes at the hunter before answering in a monotone voice. “Once the rope’s inside, the cloud turns invisible.”
Cyclone leaned back against the cloud and interlaced his fingers behind his head. “Well, ain’t that handy.”
Glo eyed the dragon hunter darkly, but kept his comments to himself.
Aksel was worried. They had found Ves, but in the process, had lost her again, along with both Ruka and Elistra. Further, they had made an enemy of the Princess Anya, a woman with an erratic temperament—and a small army at her disposal.
To make matters worse, both Martan and Glo were sulking. The former had discovered Ves’ true nature, and the latter had been unexpectedly ‘dumped’ by Elistra.
Yet despite their losses, Aksel needed his friends to regroup and focus on their mission. The Serpent Cult was still out there, not to mention that black knight who could control dragons. Both posed a danger to not only Ravenford, but all Thac.
The Princess Anya was another story. Her anger with them aside, Aksel doubted she would intentionally endanger the citizens of Thac. Anya had her standing as a Princess of Lanfor to maintain, and he highly doubted she would do anything to jeopardize that.
No, we definitely need to concentrate on the Serpent Cult.
That reminded Aksel, he had received a Sending from Seth. The magically-written parchment had appeared on his bed in the middle of the night with Seth’s name scrawled on the outside. With all that had happened, Aksel never had a chance to read it.
The little cleric reached inside his robe and drew out the letter, rereading the name written on the parchment. Seth Korzair. Aksel had been worried about his halfling friend ever since he took off after that black mage. That had only been two days ago, but it felt like a lifetime.
Aksel carefully unfolded the letter, but before he could read it, he was interrupted by Glo. The elven wizard had pulled out the bronze amulet that hung around his neck, the one inset with the large ‘Pearl of Friendship’ that Ves had given him. Glo stared absently at the moon-colored gem while muttering to himself. “I’m worried about Ruka and Ves. Maybe I should contact them.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” Aksel told his elven friend.
Glo shifted his eyes toward him, his normally sharp gaze clouded with indecision. “Why’s that?”
Aksel felt a pang of sorrow for Glo. Elistra’s sudden departure had shattered his self-confidence and fogged his mind. The little cleric took a deep breath and carefully explained what should have been obvious to the wizard.
“Anya captured Ves, right? And what does Ves carry on her? A pearl just like the one you are wearing. A pearl that communicates with yours, Ruka’s, and Maya’s.”
Glo cocked his head to one side, and raised a single eyebrow. “So, you think Anya took Ves’ pearl?”
Aksel pressed his lips together and nodded. “I think it’s a possibility we have to consider.”
Glo closed his eyes and shook his head, a d expression crossing his face. “Why didn’t I see that?”
Alana, seated next to Donnie, stood up and strode across the cloud to Glo. She sat down next to the anguished wizard, interlocking her arm with his. Glo shifted his gaze toward her, his eyes filled with mixed emotions.
When Alana spoke, her words were soft. “May I see the letter Elistra wrote you?”
Glo hesitated a moment, then reached into his robe and pulled out the parchment. Alana carefully took the letter from him and read it over in silence. After a minute or so, the lady knight handed the parchment back to him, her eyes brimming with moisture.
Alana wiped the tears from her face, then reached over and grabbed the wizard’s arm, her light hazel eyes fixing upon his. When she spoke, her tone was heartfelt. “You need to stop being so hard on yourself. Elistra obviously cares for you deeply. What she did was an ultimate act of sacrifice.”
Alana placed her other hand over the wizard’s heart. “Carry that here where it belongs. Let it strengthen, rather than diminish you.”
The tall elf’s eyes now brimmed with tears. He reached down and placed his hand over the lady knight’s, his voice thick with emotion. “Dear, sweet, Alana… thank you. You have opened my eyes. I will endeavor to do as you say.”
Alana smiled warmly at Glo, then knelt forward and kissed him on the cheek. Glo’s face reddened briefly, as the lady knight sat back down and interlocked arms with him.
Elladan, across from the duo, couldn’t resist needling Donnie. “Hey Donnie, I think you just lost another girlfriend.”
&n
bsp; Donnie fixed the bard with a withering stare. “At least mine isn’t trying to kill us.”
Elladan cocked his head to one side and spiked an eyebrow. “Anya is not my girlfriend. I don’t do crazy.”
A wry smile graced Donnie’s lips. “Then what were you doing in her cabin all night?”
Elladan stared back at Donnie with a half-smile. “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”
Aksel had kept silent this entire time, trusting in the group’s desire to help each other. Alana’s words and actions had gone a long way toward healing Glo. Elladan and Donnie’s banter had also served to lighten the group’s mood. But now it was time to get serious.
The little cleric cleared his throat. “Ahem. Anyway, before all hell broke loose, I received a message from Seth.”
Aksel held up the parchment in his hand for all to see. Glo, Lloyd, Elladan, Donnie, and Alana all sat upright and stared at the letter.
“So, what does it say?” Glo asked, the wizard’s eyes sharp once more.
Aksel slowly shook his head. “I haven’t had a chance to read it.”
Everyone except Cyclone gathered around as the little gnome read the contents of the message aloud.
Wher’er y’all is, make all yerselves scarce ‘n get to where ya can talk to some druids!
Aksel lifted his eyes and swept them across the group. They all wore mixed expressions, ranging from perplexed to downright astonished.
“If that’s from Seth, he must be hitting the ale,” Donnie quipped.
“Forget the ale,” Elladan countered. “If Seth wrote that, he’s gotta be drinking rum.”
Lloyd’s brow was furrowed into deep creases. “Does it say anything else?”
Aksel responded with a curt nod. “There’s a bit more.”
Oh my gods. I can’t believe we’re sending a message to the Heroes. I love you guys.
S’cuse my friend. She wrote that. I didn’t. Now, get yer tight fannies o’er here, ‘n make it snappy!
Aksel put the letter down after reading that last line, and glanced around the cloud once more. Many of the companions looked just as confused as they had moments ago. Donnie, however, was doubled over with laughter.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I kind of like this new Seth.”
A broad grin stretched across Elladan’s face. “I have to admit, he’s definitely more colorful.”
Unlike his fellow elves, Glo took the message seriously. He sat there cross-legged with his hands steepled together, and his brow knit in concentration. “I imagine Seth had someone else send that message—a druid, by the sound of it.”
Aksel exchanged glances with Glo. There was one place they had been in the recent past that was full of druids. “Do you think he’s in Bendenwood?”
“If he is, then we’re less than a day’s ride from him.”
All eyes turned toward Martan. It was the first time the archer had spoken since they had climbed up into the cloud. Martan gazed around at all of them and shrugged. “That’s where we are—the eastern edge of the Bendenwoods.”
Lloyd stared at the archer with his brows knit together. “Are you sure?”
Martan nodded. “Positive. I grew up here. I know these woods like the back of my hand.”
Lloyd’s eyes suddenly brightened with excitement. “Well if that’s the case, then we should be able to meet up with him later today.”
“Well then, get a-crackin’ write’n up a response,” Donnie said, waving his hand and mimicking the tone of Seth’s note.
His imitation elicited a round of chuckles from the group.
Eight hours later, the companions climbed down from the fluffy cloud and re-entered the woods. It was now the middle of the day, the warm rays of the sun peeking through the forest canopy here and there. Martan and Donnie scouted the area, but there was no sign of Anya’s airship or her dragons.
Martan then set out to find the east-west road that ran through the Bendenwoods. Aksel had worked out a rendezvous with Seth, along the road where it emerged on the eastern edge of the forest. As it turned out, they were only a couple of miles south of the road, and could easily reach it in time to meet up with the halfling.
Seth was going to bring horses, and from there they would set out for the northern branch of the Korlokesels. The halfling had found the cult’s lair, Serpent’s Hollow, nestled somewhere in those mountains.
Seth also discovered that the cult was planning some ritual that would loose a great evil on Thac. Due to the limitations of the messages they had exchanged, the halfling was sketchy on the details of this latest threat. From what little they could tell, Seth had tried to get help, but it wouldn’t reach the hollow in time. Thus, once again, it was up to the companions to hold off the cult from perpetrating its deadly plan.
Personally, Martan was skeptical about the whole thing. The Heroes had been lucky thus far, but as Martan knew only too well, luck eventually ran out.
Thankfully, Alana agreed to go with them. The lady knight had been reluctant to join them aboard Anya’s ship—a sensible notion in Martan’s mind—but she did need to get back to her fellow knights afterwards.
The news of her impending departure had saddened Donatello. Just before Martan left, the duo went off into the woods together to talk in private. Martan liked both Donnie and Alana, and sincerely hoped they could work things out. At least someone should be happy.
The archer’s own experience with love was disappointing at best. Ves’ being a dragon had caught Martan by surprise. She was the first woman to show interest in him in quite a long time. So, of course there had to be something wrong with her.
The only other girl Martan had ever been close with was a young archer back when he still lived in Deepwood. The girl was a fiery one, full of life and fun, though a bit goofy at times. Still, she was one of the few people that had taken an interest in Martan. Unfortunately, life got in the way of that budding romance.
Martan wasn’t a native of Deepwood. Old man Coran had begrudgingly taken him in after rescuing the lad from bandits. As it turned out, Coran was not paternal in the least, although he did teach Martan everything he knew about archery and tracking.
Still, Martan was an outsider. No one in Deepwood trusted him except for that girl. Yet, the girl’s family did not approve of their friendship, her brothers in particular making Martan’s life a living hell.
Thus, when old man Coran was found dead, Martan was immediately blamed. The girl’s brothers used the tragedy to drive him out of town once and for all. Martan never even got the chance to say goodbye.
He could still picture her to this day. The long reddish-brown hair always pushed behind one ear, those sharp gray eyes, and that goofy grin that never failed to make him smile.
The dour archer let out a deep sigh as he trekked his way back to fetch the others. That’s water under the bridge.
Lloyd Stealle waited quietly with his friends on the road at the eastern edge of the Bendenwoods. It was late afternoon, the golden orb of the sun shining brightly in the clear blue sky as it slowly sank toward the western horizon. The companions had arrived here an hour ago, and had maybe another hour to wait before Seth arrived with their mounts.
Lloyd gazed fondly around the familiar woods. This was the very spot he had met Glo, Seth, and Aksel all those weeks ago. The encounter had changed his life in more ways than one.
Never in his wildest dreams could he imagine all the adventures they had been through together. In that short amount of time, Lloyd had grown tremendously in skill with his blades. Yet that was not the only way he had grown. Lloyd had learned much from Aksel and Elladan about tactics. Elistra had helped him to deepen the connection with his inner spirit. And Glo and the others had taught him the true meaning of friendship.
Then of course, there’s Andrella. Lloyd’s h
eart skipped a beat at the very thought of the beautiful young lady. He would go to any length to keep her safe.
One day, if I’m lucky, she might even agree to marry me. The thought made Lloyd arch an eyebrow. Marriage had been the farthest thing from his mind before he met Andrella. He had never been good with the ladies, though he did have some lady friends. In truth, they were mostly his sister’s friends.
One friend in particular, Alys, had convinced him to set out on this journey in the first place. Lloyd felt extremely thankful that he had listened to the clever young lady. He was certain if she ever met Andrella, the two would hit it off magnificently.
“Dragon!”
The sudden hiss made Lloyd jump to his feet. Martan pointed up to the sky directly above them. Sure enough, a winged red figure buzzed over the tree tops, circling around their current position. Thankfully, it didn’t appear to be all that large.
Lloyd had just started to relax when Elladan called out in a semi-hushed tone, “We can’t let it report back to Anya.”
Elladan was right. Small, or not, the dragon was still a threat.
“I’ll handle it,” Lloyd declared, grabbing the edge of his cloak.
He invoked its magic with a single word and swiftly rose into the air. Lloyd stuck to the trees as he carefully drew his ebon blade. On the dragon’s next pass, he unleashed his spirit energy the same way he had against the black dragon earlier that day.
Lloyd shot up out of the trees, catching the smaller red dragon completely off guard. His black blade bit deep into the creature’s underside, gutting it just like he had previously with the black. The small red dragon never knew what hit it. It was dead before it reached the ground.
Lloyd led Martan, Elladan, and Cyclone to retrieve the body. It really was a small dragon, maybe eight feet in length from its head to the tip of its tail. In the end, they put it in Elladan’s Portal Bag. Just like Glo’s cloud spell, the bag opened to another plane. Thus, it was far larger on the inside than it appeared.
