The Howl of Avooblis

by Charles Streams

  Wendahl prepared dinner for them each evening, cooking whichever vegetables the visitors picked, knowing Dagdron would steal them anyway. His only requirement was that they give him at least an hour before they arrived at the cuckoo clock house. They all knew this was so he could plan a new light show, which was displayed the moment they entered. Each performance was delivered differently, so the guests never knew where the lights would come from or what shapes they would take. The only elements that remained the same were that the lights were always magenta, Dagdron never reacted at all, and Wendahl always ended up disappointed when he watched the young rogue sit down expressionless.

  Dagdron’s favorite part of Coastdale was at night. Even though he was carrying out one of Wendahl’s fake quests, he still had fun creeping and hiding in the garden. Before, he had thought Wendahl was kidding about his neighbors being jealous, but, without exception, another Coastdale farmer snuck into his garden each night, examining the plants or trying to steal seeds or vegetables. It was thrilling to dart out of the plants with his dagger in hand, scaring the wits out of the peaceful farmers.

  Wendahl joined Dagdron one evening, snickering after the rogue chased off a farm woman who hadn’t believed her husband when he told her a dagger-wielding maniac was living in old Wendahl’s garden.

  “I need to ask you about the lady warrior,” Wendahl said.

  “Lita?” Dagdron said.

  “Yes. I don’t think she likes me.”

  “Who cares?”

  “Haven’t you noticed that every night at dinner she scowls at me across the table?”

  “Of course,” Dagdron said.

  “Well, why does she dislike me?” Wendahl asked, exasperated.

  “It’s not that. She’s just angry that her sword didn’t get enchanted last year.”

  “You weren’t supposed to tell anyone about your weapons.”

  “She found out when we were fighting off your old girlfriend’s spells.”

  “Oh,” Wendahl said, nodding in complete understanding as he recalled the time they had snuck into Gretta the witch’s yard in the woods surrounding the Adventurers’ Academy.

  One day the first week of August, Earl, letting out a huge sigh as if he longed for the summer to last forever, finally told Dagdron that he needed to return to Lordavia so he could spend some time with his parents and siblings before the third year at the academy started.

  When Dugan heard this news, he told everyone that his restoration of the old Obor farmhouse was complete, and he invited them for dinner. Earl was giddy with excitement. He had been to visit the farmhouse a couple times, but, as he explained, he was eager for Dagdron to have a family experience in the place where he was born.

  As Dagdron, Earl, Lita, and Wendahl approached the farmhouse later that night, a yummy scent was drifting in the wind. Dugan already had the table set, not only with vegetables, but also with…

  “Sausages!” Dagdron said with more emotion than he meant to. But, after so many days of only eating vegetables, he was anxious to dig in to some meat.

  “You’re excited about sausages?!” Wendahl exclaimed. “I’ve been giving you grand welcomes all week and your face hasn’t even so much as twitched. But for sausage?”

  Dagdron shrugged and pierced a sausage with his dagger, biting into it with gusto.

  “Where did you get such a mesmerizing meat?” Wendahl asked sarcastically as the others sat down at the table.

  “Just around,” Dugan said noncommittally.

  Earl look shocked, but Dagdron nodded with approval. Dagdron guessed he still missed the days when his dad used to steal meat for their dinner.

  The meal was pleasant enough. Wendahl, though hesitant at first, enjoyed the sausage as much as anyone, and Earl talked boisterously about how wonderful Coastdale and the farmhouse were.

  After dinner, Earl insisted that Dugan give them a proper tour, and the group walked around the house, even visiting the bedrooms, with Earl doing all the talking.

  Once they were back in the living room, Earl and Lita left to have one last sword battle on the beach, and Wendahl went to watch for any early-night sneakers in his garden.

  “I think I’m going to stay in Coastdale,” Dugan said. “I’ll head north again for the Winter Carnival, if that’s okay with you.”

  “I think you should,” Dagdron said.

  “It’s been nice being back here. I forgot how much your mother and I loved Coastdale. Our life would’ve been much different if we had stayed here.”

  Dagdron let an image of himself dressed in bright-colored Coastdale clothes run through his mind. It clashed so much with his black cloak that he forced it out of his head by touching the blade of his dagger.

  “I know you’ll think I’m silly, but I’d like you to sleep in your old room tonight if you will.”

  Dagdron nodded. “I’ll come back after I patrol Wendahl’s garden.”

  Dugan nodded in return and set about cleaning up the dinner dishes.

  Dagdron went out to the garden, where he was surprised to find Wendahl, Earl, and Lita standing near the corn.

  “Is everything okay?” Earl asked, having watched the silhouette of Dagdron and his father in the farmhouse window. It was rare for the two rogues to spend so much time together like that, he knew.

  “Yes,” Dagdron said, whipping out his dagger and pointing it at Earl.

  “I was just asking,” Earl said, and then the three adventurers looked toward the enchanter.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been delayed in telling you why I invited you to Coastdale,” Wendahl said. “But I’ve been trying to piece a lot of information together, and it’s quite perplexing.”

  Earl and Lita nodded in understanding, but Dagdron, expecting more of an explanation than that, glared at the old farmer.

  “I have a quest for you three and your enchantress classmate,” Wendahl said.

  Dagdron, mumbling about stupid fake quests, put his hood on and headed into the corn, but Wendahl hooked him with his hoe and pulled him back to the group.

  “I’m serious, Dagdron,” Wendahl said. “While I think my other quests hold some validity as well, this time I need you to fulfill a quest to help rectify my greatest regret in life.”

  “What?” Dagdron, Earl, and Lita said together, though Dagdron’s voice was filled with incredulity.

  “I need you to help me rescue Dagdron’s mother from the Arches of Avooblis,” Wendahl said.

  Chapter 6: Rich Not Richy

  For once, Earl was speechless as he, Lita, and Dagdron stared at Wendahl.

  “You said my dad’s wife can’t be rescued without Avooblis coming out,” Dagdron said.

  “I know,” Wendahl said. “I always assumed the Arches of Avooblis were transported here because I had the orb, but when the orb turned into the third crystal, I was left with no doubt. I’ve regretted ever taking the sphere, and especially after all the details you’ve given me, I can’t bear the thought of Twyla being not only trapped but being Mazannanan’s slave as well.”

  “You think Dagdron’s mom is Mazannanan’s slave?” Earl said.

  “Stop calling her my mom,” Dagdron interjected. “She’s my dad’s wife.”

  “Twyla was a kind and peaceful soul. She has no power to combat Mazannanan or Avooblis, so yes, I believe she’s under their control. Trapped, I don’t know exactly where, but unable to act under her own volition.”

  “Why haven’t you tried to save her before now?” Dagdron asked, drawing his dagger.

  “Neither your father or I meant to abandon her,” Wendahl explained. “I know I studied from the tome of Avooblis, but I never believed what Gwydion and Rance believed. I never thought it would be prudent to summon Avooblis. When your mom—” Wendahl stopped talking to dodge as Dagdron jabbed his dagger at him—“when Twyla was taken, I didn’t know what to do. I thought the sphere I gave you would grant access to the shrine, but I didn’t know it was the third crystal. And I have never believed Avooblis can be control
led. I guess I thought if you found out more information without your headmaster knowing, perhaps we might find the means to summon Avooblis, get Twyla out before he fully forms, and then close the portal on him.”

  “Do you think we can do that?” Earl asked, still taken by surprise and fear by what Wendahl was proposing.

  “If you accept the quest, then that would be what you need to accomplish to fulfill it.” Wendahl looked solemnly at the three young adventurers. “Twyla out, Avooblis in.”

  “I accept,” Dagdron said.

  “Dagdron,” Earl said, looking at his friend.

  “The arches have already ruined my life for good,” Dagdron said. “My dad’s happy here. All he’s missing is his wife.”

  “I accept,” Lita said with a grunt.

  “Of course I accept too,” Earl said quickly. “Where do we start?”

  “I’ve been trying to piece together all the information we have about Avooblis, the arches, the Backer, and other relevant facts. I have a few ideas, but I will have to do more research to see what I can cook up,” Wendahl explained, giving his hoe a couple of taps against the ground, magenta sparks shooting from the blade. “In the meantime, we need to search for the treasure that Mazannanan asked Dagdron to find.”

  “What do you think the treasure is?” Earl asked.

  “I can only assume it’s the incantation to summon Avooblis,” Wendahl answered.

  Earl’s mouth dropped open, and even Lita looked surprised, but Dagdron’s expression didn’t change.

  “Where do you think it might be?” Earl asked in a quieter voice than normal.

  “I know where,” Dagdron said. Earl, Lita, and Wendahl looked at him in surprise. “Last year Grizzard told us that spumasaurs are loyal and guard treasures. There’s only one spumasaur close to the academy.”

  “You’re right, Dagdron,” Earl said, amazed. “I bet that was where Mazannanan lived. Spumasaurs live for ages. I bet it’s been guarding his old dwellings for hundreds of years.”

  “That sounds like our best chance,” Wendahl said. “I will continue to study and then head north after harvest time. Hopefully by then I will have uncovered more clues about Mazannanan, Avooblis, and who the Backer is. The fact that the Fortigroffs believe a city can be built at Central Crossing just doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “We will do our best to fulfill your quest with honor,” Earl said.

  “I know you will,” Wendahl said. “I must warn you, though. Your headmaster is going to be looking for Mazannanan’s treasure too. The past couple of years, in his own twisted way, Gwidy’s kind of been working on your side. Now that he has the three arch crystals, he’s not going to allow you to be involved in any way. You’re going to have to keep him from finding out. And that’s a very difficult prospect while in his academy. He was suspicious all last year.”

  “We can handle it,” Earl said, though worry about what the headmaster would do to them filled the back of his mind. “Freeing Dagdron’s mom is that important.”

  “I don’t have a mom,” Dagdron said.

  Earl was about to argue with Dagdron, but Wendahl extended his arms and exclaimed, “Fulfill my quest!” Earl and Lita smiled, but, without his magenta robes on and his hoe shooting lights, the grandstanding declaration fell flat.

  “I can’t believe we have another quest!” Earl said. “Three quests in three years at the academy.” He was so excited that he grabbed Lita and hugged her tightly. After realizing just how much he was squeezing her, Earl quickly broke the embrace and wrapped his arms around Dagdron.

  “Bodaburg,” Dagdron muttered in Earl’s ear.

  “Before I forget,” Wendahl said, “I have one more order of business before you leave tomorrow.” He pulled a flask out of his pocket, shaking the shimmering magenta fluid inside.

  Earl’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but Lita looked confused, not knowing what the substance was.

  “He’s going to enchant your sword,” Earl explained.

  Lita let out a grunt, pounding her fists against her chest.

  Wendahl smiled, motioning for Earl and Lita to accompany him to his cuckoo clock house. He looked back to invite Dagdron, hoping for one last chance at impressing the rogue with a grand welcome, but Dagdron had already disappeared into the garden, lurking for any spying neighbors.

  * * *

  “We have to promise each other to vacation here together in between quests after we graduate,” Earl said. He, Dagdron, and Lita had just said their goodbyes to Wendahl and Dugan and were on their way out of Coastdale. “At least I know you’ll be here, Dagdron, now that your dad’s back here. He sure seems happy here.”

  “Why are you talking like that?” Dagdron asked.

  “I’m just saying,” Earl said. “It would be nice.”

  Dagdron put his hood on, and he, Earl, and Lita set out on the long road to Lordavia. Lita had decided to accompany them to Lordavia for a week before returning to Thornrim for the rest of August.

  Their trek northward was filled with sword practice between Earl and Lita, as well as questions, comments, and discussions led by Earl about the quest Wendahl had given them. Dagdron had assumed they would investigate what treasure Mazannanan had told him to find, but he hadn’t expected Wendahl to straight out ask them to rescue his dad’s wife. Still, once they were in close proximity to Lordavia, Dagdron was sick and tired of hearing Earl talk about their quest and of having to correct Earl about it being his dad’s wife and not his mom.

  After having visited drab, stony Broodavia, the colorful and tropical atmosphere of Lordavia stood out. Tropical Plaza lay in the southwest corner of the city, and Earl, talking excitedly about his family’s new house, led Dagdron and Lita in that direction.

  Although vegetation adorned many of the streets and houses of Lordavia, Tropical Plaza was especially lush, being where vendors gathered to showcase their plants and other decorative objects made of vegetation. Earl’s house was a short distance down one of the principal streets off the square.

  Like all the houses in Lordavia, the Valoringtons’ was narrowly built, with little space between it and neighboring houses. But Mr. and Mrs. Valorington had bought one that was the tallest in the vicinity, and they had been sure to decorate more lushly than any of their neighbors. Ivy and vines covered the front of the house, and Mrs. Valorington had interspersed her red and pink roses throughout the arrangement.

  Earl stuck his hand into the jungle of vegetation, exploring until he located the latch. He pushed the door open to find Mr. and Mrs. Valorington hovering over a flower bouquet together. They had abandoned the royal attire that Dagdron had always seen them in before. Instead, Earl’s mom had donned a flowery dress and his dad, in an effort to hide his expanding waistline, a loose-fitting magic-user robe typical of Lordavia.

  “Earl!” Mr. Valorington exclaimed. He lifted his arms with emotion, jostling the flower display. Mrs. Valorington rescued her flowers but then joined her husband in hugging their son.

  Earl’s dad continued, hugging Lita and then Dagdron. Mrs. Valorington embraced Lita and then, with tears in her eyes, threw her arms around Dagdron.

  “I am so sorry for how cold I was with you before,” she said, keeping Dagdron locked in her arms. “I was too caught up in my royal lifestyle to see what an amazing friend you have been to Earl and us.”

  When Mrs. Valorington still didn’t release him, Dagdron slipped his hand in his cloak for his dagger. Earl intervened just in time, pulling his mom off of Dagdron.

  “Dagdron understands completely,” Earl said. “He appreciated the note you sent him at the academy. Right, Dagdron?”

  “Sure,” Dagdron replied.

  Instead of scowling at Earl, Dagdron began scoping out the house. Although the Valoringtons had left behind the royal trappings that had decorated their house in the pyramid, they had still picked up some expensive vases. They housed the outrageous number of flowers Mrs. Valorington had on display, but Dagdron still thought he could ditch the pl
ants and get some good money for the urns. Earl immediately noticed Dagdron’s thieving eyes, so he yanked his hood off and pulled him to the side of the room as his parents talked with Lita.

  “I know my family owes all of this to you, but do not steal from them,” Earl said. “My mom’s happy with her decorations.”

  “It’s fair game,” Dagdron said. “Your parents don’t owe me anything. They owe Mercer everything.”

  “Don’t you dare tell them those amethysts were stolen,” Earl said, frowning at the mention of the merchant from Bodaburg.

  “Then stop telling your mom I appreciated her note.”

  “I was just being polite for you.”

  “We know the real reason your parents are happy now. It’s not because of the house.”

  “Don’t say it, Dagdron. I’m warning you.”

  “Because they’re not royal richies anymore.”

  “Take that back,” Earl said. “They’re richer now than they were before.”

  “There’s a difference between being rich and being a richy.”

  Earl was about to draw his sword, but, noticing that his parents and Lita were watching, he recomposed himself.

  “There is no need to be offensive,” Earl said in a dignified tone.

  “I was complimenting your parents,” Dagdron explained.

  Earl, sighing, went to tell his parents about his travels during the summer.

  After touring the house and dining with Earl’s parents, Dagdron, Earl, and Lita left to explore the city. Earl was bursting with anxiety to give Lita a proper tour of Lordavia, including visiting his two brothers and sister. Dagdron had seen everything the previous summer, so while Earl explained the details about the four main plazas, the rogue spent his time scouting for stealing opportunities when night rolled around. Chasing farmers with his dagger in Coastdale had been fun, but Dagdron felt he was long overdue for some roguery that required lock picking and stealing.