The Howl of Avooblis

by Charles Streams

Earl stood next to Lita during the entire campfire, but Dagdron and Dugan remained seated on a log a few feet back. The summer night was already warm, and the bonfire made the heat unpleasant.

  “Do you want to go back to Cliffmount?” Dugan asked. “We could still spend the last month of summer together.”

  “We’re going to Coastdale once Earl gets over his excitement at seeing Lita again,” Dagdron said.

  “Why?” Dugan asked, looking toward his son.

  “Earl wants to explore the town where I was born, since Rance ran us out of there before we could last time.”

  Dugan was quiet for a minute. “Can I come with you?”

  “Do you want to?”

  “I think it’s time I went back there.”

  Dagdron glanced at his dad, and then they turned their attention back to the bonfire. The Thornrimians were performing a song with accompanying feet and hand movements, and Earl had joined them, doing his best not to stumble. Lita smiled proudly at how much Earl had immersed himself with her village neighbors, but then she drifted from the fire toward Dagdron.

  “I need to talk to you,” Lita said.

  Dagdron looked at her with a blank expression, so Lita grabbed his arm and yanked him a few feet farther away from Dugan.

  “I want to ask your permission to go with you and Earl to Coastdale,” Lita said.

  Dagdron shrugged. “My dad’s going, so you might as well. At least Earl will talk to you instead of me.”

  Lita hammered her hand on Dagdron’s shoulder, but before he could figure out if it was in excitement or annoyance, pounding feet and yells sounded over the singing. Everyone quieted down as the two young men who had been on guard duty rushed to the campfire.

  “Enchanter!” they shouted.

  Thornrim was thrown into mayhem as lightning spells flashed through the night. Dagdron, suddenly completely understanding why Lita had said Thornrim needed adventurers, watched as the entire village fled the bonfire back to their huts. A half dozen or so Thornrimians even jumped through the fire instead of taking a chance at facing magic.

  Lita let out a mighty war cry as the dark-robed Backer appeared in the firelight, casting lightning spells at her, Earl, Dagdron, and Dugan, the only four who had remained in the vicinity. Dugan was quickly knocked off the log where he was still seated, but Earl drew his sword and Lita raced to the fire, hoisting the boar spit above her head. She launched it at the Backer, but he cast a blast-bolt spell to deflect it and then continued hurling lightning balls.

  Earl charged, swinging his sword like he had seen Egon do in Broodavia, but one of the yellow balls blew past his weapon, hitting him square in the chest and tossing him back near the bonfire pit.

  Dagdron dodged to the side when the Backer turned his spells on him. He jumped back and forth, making a mild effort to get closer. When he realized he stood no chance, he clutched his dagger and then threw it. The Backer cast a blast-bolt spell to deflect it, but the magical properties of the dagger forced it through the spell. The enchanter was taken by surprise and didn’t move quickly enough, so the blade sliced his left leg. Lita had helped Earl back to his feet by then, and the two young warriors raced toward the Backer. The enchanter hobbled as he turned around before casting a levitation spell, lifting himself into the night sky and soaring safely over the village fence.

  “I can’t believe the Backer followed us here,” Earl said as he and Lita approached where Dagdron was recovering his dagger. “He’s so powerful.”

  “He’s sliced,” Dagdron said, wiping off his dagger on his cloak.

  “I know you said he was strong, but I didn’t think his spells were that strong,” Lita said. She paused with a steely expression. “We have to leave.”

  “We just got here,” Dagdron said.

  “Thornrim is too vulnerable against an enchanter like that,” Lita said.

  “She’s right, Dagdron,” Earl said, disappointed. “I want to stay in Thornrim longer more than anyone, but we have to leave before the Backer attacks again.”

  Dagdron shrugged and they walked back by the fire, where Dugan had gotten back to his feet, and a few Thornrimians had returned to see what had happened. Lita’s parents were among them, and she explained to them that it would be safest for the visitors to leave right then. Her parents concurred, and as Lita rushed to change back into her lady warrior attire and get her sword, Mr. and Mrs. Valk and the other Thornrimians lauded Earl and Dagdron for saving their village.

  Earl made his disappointment known at having to leave so soon, but Lita’s parents assured him that he was welcome back any time. Lita shared a bone-crushing hug with her parents before leading Earl, Dagdron, and Dugan outside of the village and toward the Rim of Thorns.

  “Looks like you’re going down the gorge after all,” Earl said to Dagdron once they reached the rim.

  Dagdron replied by putting his hood on his head.

  “Follow my lead,” Lita said.

  Without another word, the she started down the trail, giving no thought to the thorny branches that scraped her, leaving the others with no other choice but to follow her wake.

  Chapter 5: Wendahl’s Regret

  Earl and Lita were full of energy as they raced down the switchbacks into the gorge of Thornrim. On the other hand, Dagdron and Dugan, though they remained silent, didn’t enjoy having their cloaks snagged by the thorns as they moved briskly along the prickly pathway.

  Once they reached the bottom, Lita led them along the narrow ledge on the side of the raging river. They came to a section where the winds and erosion had carved out a cave in the side of the ridge. Earl and Lita snored away peacefully but Dugan and Dagdron, due to the noise of the grunts and rapids, passed a restless night.

  The following morning, they traveled down the gorge, the ridge walls towering above them. The trail was difficult to navigate. There was only room enough for them to walk single file, balancing between the rushing water to the right and the thorn bushes and trees that had managed to grow in the side of the cliff to the left. Lita took the lead, followed by Earl. Dagdron came third and did his best not to let his father see each time he helped stabilize Earl when he appeared to be leaning too far to the right. The last thing they needed was to have to rescue Earl from the river, Dagdron thought.

  After hiking for the entire morning, they passed beyond the gorge walls. The terrain flattened out and the travelers picked up the pace, no longer restricted by the narrow pathway.

  “I bet Byron sent the Backer after us,” Earl said. “I can’t believe he followed us all the way to Thornrim.”

  “I know it was best for us to leave,” Lita said. “But I sure would’ve loved to head back north and rough up some of those weak Broodavians to send a message back.”

  “What do you mean, rough them up?” Dagdron finally asked. He had been wondering what Lita would have done to them if she hadn’t recognized Earl. “Why were you even close to Broodavia?”

  “Just bash them around a little,” Lita explained, slamming one fist into her other hand. “Thornrimians have fun battling one another, but it’s nice to test your strength against others, too. We never injure anyone too badly. We just charge in to strike fear into our opponents.”

  Dagdron didn’t reply as Lita grinned at him.

  “We’ll ask Wendahl what he thinks about the Backer and Broodavia when we get to Coastdale,” Earl said, realizing he shouldn’t have said it as soon as he saw Dugan look at him. Then he felt Dagdron’s dagger in his back. “I mean, I’m assuming he’ll be there. The times we talked to him at the academy, he was really knowledgeable.”

  For Earl, it was a good recovery, Dagdron thought, but he knew his father’s suspicions had been put on alert. Dugan had been told nothing about Wendahl’s invitation for them to visit Coastdale. And, while Dagdron didn’t know what Wendahl wanted either, his father would only complicate matters.

  Nothing else was discussed about Wendahl, and they followed the banks of the river until they found a shallow enou
gh spot to wade across. The water level still reached Dagdron and Dugan’s chests, but the two warriors, being taller, high-stepped right across.

  From there, they headed directly south. Dagdron traveled in silence, grateful that Earl had Lita to talk to. Dugan spoke to Dagdron occasionally, mostly asking questions about the skills he was learning at the Adventurers’ Academy. Dagdron, knowing his father was trying to recreate their bond that had been severed for most of the last two years, answered, but very concisely.

  Earl invited Lita to join him in sword practice as they went, so over the following few days, the warrior and lady warrior swung their swords as they traveled, giving tips to one other about their technique.

  Eventually, they ran into the coastline and, after Earl and Lita loudly discussed the beauty of the scene, they hugged the shoreline, knowing it would carry them to Coastdale.

  Dagdron noticed the mixed emotions that crossed his father’s face as they rounded the bend to the bay where Coastdale was located. He also caught the muffled sound of his dad breathing louder, a response to his heart beating faster.

  Earl, all smiles, launched into tour guide mode, telling Lita everything he and Dagdron had experienced in the village the year before.

  “This is where Wendahl’s real house is,” Dagdron said, interrupting Earl’s commentary.

  Lita and Dugan glanced at the bare wall of beach cliff, so Earl explained how Wendahl kept his house magically hidden.

  They walked along the shore, observing the colorful beach houses that were built into the sides of the dale. Wooden stairs led to each one, high or low. Earl pointed out Martha’s house, where the boys had lodged last summer. From there, they began the ascent to the top of the valley. The trail flattened at different intervals, forming levels where quaint houses were built. The Coastdale villagers, dressed in bright, loose clothing, stopped whatever they were doing to gawk or wave at the passing visitors.

  At the top of the dale, the green expanse of farmlands extended before them, and the group of four walked toward the old farmhouse where Dagdron had been born. Dugan, of course, knew right where it was, having lived there in days past. Dagdron, Earl, and Lita were only aware of it because the ancient wizard Mazannanan had showed them the past event when the arm of Avooblis had captured Dugan’s wife, Twyla, in one of the arch crystals. On their first trip to Coastdale, Dagdron and Earl had walked right by the farmhouse, oblivious to the fact that it was where Dagdron had spent the first two years of his life.

  In the garden of the farm before the old Obor house, they saw the head of an elderly man sticking up above the healthy rows of corn. There was a quick magenta glow and the cornstalks appeared to part, allowing Wendahl, dressed in his farmer attire and carrying his hoe, to walk freely from their midst. He waved happily to the four travelers and limped in their direction, using his hoe as a walking stick.

  “My garden!” Wendahl announced, pointing dramatically to the crops behind him. “Sorry I couldn’t give you a grander welcome than that, but you know how my neighbors are, so I couldn’t properly use my hoe.”

  “I can see why they’d be even more jealous this year. Your plants look even bigger,” Earl said.

  “To be honest, I’ve had to use my hoe a lot more this summer,” Wendahl said, glancing over his shoulders to make sure no other farmers were in hearing distance. “By the time I got back from the academy, I was late for the planting season. I think I overdid it with my hoe, though. The farmers are tenfold more suspicious, especially Farmer Jersey. They thought their crops would outgrow mine for once since I was late.”

  “What happened to your leg?” Earl asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” Wendahl said. “I just had a mishap chasing some fellow farmers from my field the other night.”

  Earl and Lita walked off together to explore the garden. Dagdron, Dugan, and Wendahl watched them go.

  “Welcome back to Coastdale, Dugan,” Wendahl said. “I’ve been taking care of your farmhouse for this very day.”

  Dugan looked at the farmer-enchanter with surprise, and Wendahl, motioning with his hoe, led Dugan and Dagdron to the farmhouse in the next plot over. The house was almost exactly as Dagdron had seen it in the Shrine of Avooblis a few months earlier. The décor was the same, but the window and furniture that had been broken or ransacked while Headmaster Gwauldron had overanxiously searched for one of the arch crystals had been repaired. And, of course, the headmaster wasn’t there trapped in a magical column of light, either.

  Dugan looked around the front room nostalgically and, for the first time in his life, Dagdron saw his father’s eyes well up with tears of joy.

  “Dagdron, why don’t we let your father get reacquainted with the house,” Wendahl said.

  Dugan was ready to protest, but Dagdron stopped him.

  “Stay, dad,” the young rogue said.

  Dugan, hearing the sincerity in his son’s voice and seeing that he didn’t pull his dagger, understood that it was something Dagdron wanted for him.

  Wendahl and Dagdron exited the farmhouse, moving toward the garden. As soon as they were out of earshot, Dagdron explained everything that had happened so far during the summer.

  “Who could the Backer be?” Dagdron asked, slipping his dagger into his hand just in case he noted any hesitation in the enchanter’s answers.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Wendahl stated. “But it’s worrisome to say the least.”

  “Do you think it could be Rance? The Backer cast lightning spells at us in Broodavia and Thornrim, and Rance always casts those.”

  “That has crossed my mind,” Wendahl said. “Joining forces with Broodavia and threatening to disrupt the peace your headmaster has built over the years with the academy. Sounds like something Rance might be interested in.”

  “Is Rance powerful enough to create the castle at Central Crossing?”

  “No one is that powerful. Not me, not Rance, and not even your headmaster.”

  Dagdron and Wendahl walked in silence until they were stepping over humongous zucchini.

  “Does your dad know I invited you here?”

  “He’s suspicious,” Dagdron said. “Earl can’t keep his mouth shut.”

  “We’ll talk about certain subjects a little later.”

  Dagdron stashed his dagger in his cloak, turning his focus to the vegetables and planning the menu for dinner whether Wendahl gave him permission to pick them or not.

  Wendahl invited them for dinner that first evening, but he told the four visitors that they would have to give him an hour to get ready. The enchanter’s cuckoo clock–shaped house was visible when they went to the beach that night. Dagdron pulled on the tasseled cord to open the front door. When they entered, Wendahl was waiting, now in his magenta robe, his hoe still in hand. Every cuckoo clock and birdhouse that lined the walls of the house came to life as soon as Dagdron, Earl, Lita, and Dugan entered. Each bird that popped out also shot a magenta ball of light across the room. Earl and Lita burst into applause, and Dugan smiled, but Dagdron just went to sit at the table, his dagger in hand and ready to eat. In spite of the others cheering his grand welcome, Wendahl looked extremely disappointed that he hadn’t gotten a reaction from Dagdron.

  They ate a variety of vegetables for dinner. They were very appetizing, but Dagdron noticed that some of them had a magenta sparkle. And when Earl, praising the deliciousness of the meal, asked Wendahl how he had cooked them, the enchanter answered very vaguely.

  After dinner was over, the four travelers were going to head back to Wendahl’s farmhouse to spend the night there, but the enchanter asked them to wait.

  “Dagdron, I have a quest for you,” Wendahl said.

  Dugan squinted suspiciously at Wendahl, but Earl and Lita were filled with excitement.

  “Yes, another quest for us,” Earl said.

  “Sorry,” Wendahl said to Earl and Lita. “This quest only requires the skills of a rogue.”

  “What?” Lita said, glaring at the enchanter.

 
; “Sorry,” Wendahl repeated, eyeing the pulsing veins in Lita’s muscles.

  “Don’t worry,” Dagdron said. “I’m sure it’s one of his fake quests. I won’t tally it.”

  “I don’t give fake quests,” Wendahl said, offended. “I want you to patrol my garden at night. My jealous neighbors won’t be expecting a garden rogue. That should keep my secret safe until my leg isn’t hobbled anymore.”

  “Can I stab them?”

  Wendahl was pensive for a moment.

  “You can’t stab a peaceful Coastdale villager,” Earl said.

  “Earl’s probably right,” Wendahl said, though sounding unconvinced.

  “I accept the quest,” Dagdron said. “Maybe I will tally it after all.”

  With that, Dagdron headed toward the door with Earl and Lita arguing behind him that it wasn’t a valid quest.

  Over the following few days, Coastdale lived up to its reputation as the most peaceful village in all the land. This visit, no evil enchanters arrived, so Dagdron, Earl, and Lita spent the days exploring the village, dale, and coast. They even went swimming in the bay during the afternoons. Of course, much to Dagdron’s annoyance, sword training was interspersed in between the sightseeing trips. Dagdron never knew when Earl was going to call for a sword battle with Lita, so each time, he just found a shady spot to toss his dagger around in the meantime.

  With his father around, Dagdron thought it was going to be difficult to discuss certain subjects with Wendahl, but, surprisingly, Dugan busied himself cleaning and reorganizing his old farmhouse. And his spirits were soaring. Each day, Dagdron was reminded that he had never seen his dad so happily occupied. He even caught his father whistling one time when he snuck to the house one afternoon and peeked through the window.

  Even with Dugan distracted, Wendahl still didn’t sit Dagdron, Earl, and Lita down to discuss exactly why he had invited them to Coastdale. He did, however, ask them for further details about the scenes Mazannanan had shown them in the Shrine of Avooblis, about their experience in Broodavia, and about other information dealing with their quest for the Arches of Avooblis. All this took place while they were in the garden, on the beach, or doing any other activity when Dagdron’s father wasn’t present.