by Sam Ferguson
‘“I have a little,’ the old farmer replied. ‘I suppose I can share some.’ The old man opened his container of beans and gave it to the tired man.
‘“Thank you,’ the tired man said with a mouthful of beans. The old man smiled and walked onward. It wasn’t long before he saw a squirrel, crying on the side of the trail.
‘“What’s wrong little fella?’ the old man asked.
‘“A group of birds found my secret spot and stole all of my nuts. Now I have no food for my family for winter.’”
Leatherback snorted. “Squirrels don’t talk.”
Kyra jabbed him softly with her elbow. “Well, they do in this story, so hush.”
Leatherback grinned slightly, and Kyra knew that he was enjoying himself, despite the show he was putting on to the contrary. She began reading again from where she had left off. “The old man frowned. This was very sad news indeed. He couldn’t bear to watch the squirrel cry. ‘Do you have a big family?’ the old man asked the squirrel.
‘“There are thirteen of us altogether; six sons, five daughters and me and Mrs. Squirrel,’ Mr. Squirrel replied in a squeaky voice.
‘“Wow that is a big family!’ The old man reached into his sack and pulled out his bag of nuts. ‘Would this be enough for them?’
“The squirrel squealed and danced around joyfully. ‘Oh yes, yes, yes! Thank you!’ The squirrel took the bag of nuts and scurried off into the forest. The old man started whistling and walked along the road. After a while he stopped to rest on a large rock by a brook. He pulled out his bread and took a bite. As he chewed, a little fly landed on his nose.
‘“Excuse me sir, might I share your bread?’ the fly asked.”
Leatherback chortled and shook his massive head, jarring Kyra a bit as his neck moved. “No fly can speak, they are too small!”
“Shush!” Kyra said adamantly.
Leatherback blew through his mouth, letting his lips flap together to display his displeasure.
Kyra cleared her throat and read some more. “The old man wrinkled his brow and frowned. ‘I’m afraid this is all the food I have left.’
‘“I promise sir, if you let me eat first, there will be enough left for you,’ the fly said.
“The old man scratched his head. ‘Well, I suppose you are right.’ He set the bread down on the large rock for the fly and went to the brook to get a drink of water and wash his face. When the old man returned, the bread was gone. The fly lay on its back, patting its tummy and smiling.
‘“Thank you, sir,’ the fly said.
“The old man slumped to the rock and started to cry. ‘You ate every last crumb! Whatever shall I do now?’ The old man shook his head. ‘I thought you promised there would be enough left for me. Now I have no food.’
‘“Yes, I know,’ said the fly. ‘I saw you give your beans to the man with the broken wagon. I also watched you give your nuts to the squirrel. Then, even though it was the last thing you had left, you gave me your bread.’ The fly buzzed over to land on the old man’s knee.
‘“What shall I do?’ the old man asked again.
‘“Take me to the city, and I will get you enough food for the winter.’
‘“How can you do that?’ the old man asked.
‘“I am no ordinary fly.’ The fly buzzed its wings furiously, producing a fine yellow dust. ‘You have been very kind to others, and now I shall repay your golden heart.’
“The old man’s mouth fell open as the fly first doubled, then tripled in size. Soon it was as large as the old man’s fist. The yellow dust formed a cloud around the insect for a few minutes. ‘Remember,’ said the fly, ‘a man is judged by his heart. As you have a heart of gold, so shall your reward be.’ The yellow cloud dispersed, revealing a large, golden fly.
“The old man picked up the solid statuette and smiled wide. He took it to the city and sold it for enough money that he never worried about food again. He even bought a new house and clean clothes. But, he never forgot what the fly had said. For the rest of his days he continued to share what he had with others in need.” Kyra closed the book and looked to Leatherback. “Well, did you like it?” she asked.
Leatherback grinned. “Good story,” he said, “even if flies and squirrels can’t talk.”
“Well, I thought it was a nice moral. Be nice to others, and someday the niceness will return to you.” She patted him on the neck and was about to say something else, but then a flash of light erupted in the grove and Njar stepped through from his portal.
The satyr held a grim expression on his face and walked toward Kyra with a determined gait. “Kyra, you are in grave danger,” he said.
Leatherback began to stand. “Where is danger?” he thundered.
Njar shook his head. “Not yet, but they are coming for you.”
“Who is coming for me?” Kyra asked.
Njar summoned his staff and struck the ground. A golden wave of light went out in all directions, encircling the entire grove like a great bubble of magic. “This will help ensure no other prying ears can hear us.”
“Njar, what is wrong?”
“I have seen visions in the Pools of Fate. The shade comes for you, but he is not the only one.”
Kyra nodded. “Yes, I know of the vampire,” she said. “I found out from Kathair.”
Njar nodded. “This vampire is no simple foe. He is a great master of the arcane dark arts. If I had a thousand years, I do not believe you would be ready to face him, for he has had several thousand to perfect his abilities. He now also wields Stormfang, a powerful weapon once wielded by the founder of Kuldiga Academy.”
“Yes, I know,” Kyra said. “I saw all of this. Headmaster Herion had a special orb, and I watched this.”
Njar shook his head. “I will not even speak the vampire’s name,” he said. “Were I to do so, he might find us even now, and come for us.”
“Let him come,” Leatherback said with a defiant roar.
Njar shook his head and pointed his spear at Leatherback. “This vampire has killed more than a score of the dragon folk in his day. He is not one to be trifled with. No, you must run.”
“Where can we go?” Kyra asked.
Njar shrugged. “I do not know, but maybe it is time to try and fly to the north.”
“Why not go to Viverandon?” Kyra asked. “Surely the vampire won’t find us if we hide with you.”
Njar shook his head. “This vampire seeks something,” Njar said. “Perhaps if you give it to him, then he will let you go north.”
“What does he want?”
Njar sighed. “I saw a dagger in the Pools of Fate. I saw another vampire who once held the weapon. I then saw your mother kill that vampire with it. I believe this new vampire, the one who sent the shade to your house, seeks the dagger.”
“Then he must already have it,” Kyra said. “The shade killed my mother and her office was torn asunder. If she had the dagger before, then it is gone now.”
Njar shook his head. “No, I disagree. I have seen dark creatures in the Pools of Fate. They are circling closer to your home once more. Others are coming closer to the academy. It appears as though they are looking for you, and for the dagger.”
“Did you see where the dagger is now?” Kyra asked.
Njar shook his head. “I saw your mother slay the vampire in the woods near your home. After that, I could no longer see the dagger. But, I did see that using the dagger awoke the second vampire. That is why he sent the shade to your home.”
“Then I should return to my home,” Kyra said. “If they are going back for it again, then I have to warn my…” Kyra stopped in mid-sentence. The word ‘father’ caught in her throat, and would not come out. “I should go.”
“I will go,” Njar said. “There is no reason to put yourself in peril this time. I suspect that the shade may be setting a trap.”
Kyra then remembered something from her encounter with the shade. “Actually, I think the shade asked me where the dagger was when we fought b
efore. The dagger must be back at my home.”
Leatherback stepped forward. “I can take you,” the dragon offered to Njar.
Njar shook his head. “No, I will go alone. You will stay here. Kyra, I want you to return to the academy. The headmaster there would be able to protect you if anything came to the school. Go, now.”
“You said that you would help me find the garunda,” Kyra reminded him.
Njar nodded. “I suspect more than garunda are heading for your home as we speak. There is no debate on this. I go, and you will stay.”
Njar disappeared through a flash of light and was gone.
Leatherback reached down and nuzzled Kyra with his snout. “Go,” he said softly.
Kyra nodded, but she didn’t open a portal to Kuldiga Academy. She created one that went to the woods near Caspen Manor. She stepped forward and into the portal, but something snatched her and pulled her back. She felt long, hard teeth grab the back of her clothes and lift her up.
Kyra looked down to her portal and tried to squirm away. “Let me go!” she cried.
Just then, something stepped through the portal. It was a man, with only a loincloth covering him and black tattoos that stretched across nearly every inch of visible skin. He looked up and pulled a wicked knife.
Leatherback stomped on the man, crushing him, and then flicked his body through the portal.
Kyra then waved a hand and closed the portal, realizing that leaving it open was not smart. “Sorry,” she said softly.
Leatherback set her down on the ground. “Njar will fight. This time, you stay with me, or go to your room.”
Kyra nodded. She knew that had she gone through the portal, she likely would not have seen the strange assassin in time. She turned and hugged Leatherback’s foreleg. The great beast craned his neck down and around her to reciprocate the gesture.
*****
Njar stepped through the portal and found himself atop the manor’s roof. He scanned the area quickly. He could feel the shift of magical energies creeping through the forest around the manor. The hairs on the back of his neck stood and he turned to see a man covered in black tattoos climbing atop the roof near a chimney.
“Blacktongues,” Njar hissed. He hated the dark band of assassins. He rushed toward the foe, leveled his staff, and pummeled the man in the face before he could rise to his feet. The Blacktongue flipped end over end until he slammed upon the ground in a crumpled heap.
Two more Blacktongues were down in the woods near where the first one fell.
Njar narrowed his golden eyes and leapt into action. He jumped from the roof, summoning a cushion of air to rise from the ground and soften his landing. As he descended, he blasted two bolts of lightning out from his staff, pulverizing the Blacktongues. He then sped through the forest, following the scent of dark magic that lingered in the air.
From what he had seen in the Pools of Fate, he expected the more deadly creatures to be lurking in the woods to the north. The fact that he had killed three Blacktongues was a good sign, but he had seen four in his visions.
Njar rounded a large mound and a fallen oak tree and then stopped short, staring at a crushed Blacktongue’s body. It was bloody and mangled, as if a large animal had gotten to him. Njar shook his head and moved on. There was no time to waste.
As he moved, the air grew thicker and darker. The trees cast shadows over the forest and a strange chill hung in the air. Njar stepped into a small clearing and waited. This is where he had seen them appear. He readied his staff and turned his head to each side, his goat-like ears twitching this way and that to pick up the slightest of sounds.
He held his left hand out and studied the energy coming from the ground. A thin layer of green mist glowed as he used his magic. Flowers bloomed in the field and the grasses grew taller, but it was not to last. A river of black mist poured in from the north.
“They have come,” Njar said. He quickly cast a ward spell around himself. A great orb of gold appeared, encircling and protecting the satyr.
A moment later, the black mist widened and through it came a hideous shape like a ghost. It had bony fingers and ragged robes that hung loosely around its body. A dark hood covered its head and face, but Njar knew what it was.
The wraith shrieked and stalked around the golden orb, studying it and testing for weaknesses with its foul fingers.
Njar turned his staff on the creature and sent out a shockwave. The wraith flew backward, but was not banished. Instead, the river of black mist flowed around the clearing like a massive python, squeezing the green energies into the center around the golden orb.
The satyr turned and saw two more wraiths enter the clearing. Worse than that, a shadowy figure stood on the north end of the clearing, hidden just beyond the line of trees.
“Where is the girl?” the figure hissed. “She was supposed to come.”
Njar snarled, “Sorry to disrupt your plans.”
The figure raised his hands and the three wraiths began to scream. The black mist rose up like a great dome, covering the clearing and blotting out the sun. The only visible light came from the green energy swirling around him, and Njar’s golden orb.
The figure stepped more fully into the dome of darkness so that Njar could see him. He was a pale figure. He looked exactly as Njar had expected. His body was like that of an elf, with pointed ears and gaunt features. He was exceptionally tall, however, standing nearly eight feet. He was slender, but Njar knew that the shade was imbued with unnatural strength both physically and magically. He wore dark colored clothes with a flowing over-cloak. His hair was long and silver in color, which only accentuated his prominent cheekbones that protruded out from his gaunt face. A pair of fangs became visible as he sneered at Njar and spoke.
“Why risk yourself to save her?” the shade asked. “What can you hope to accomplish?”
Njar didn’t answer. He let the shade speak while he silently calculated the time he needed to finish conjuring the right spells to escape from the trap and weaken the shade.
“My master seeks the dagger,” the shade said impatiently. “Where is it?”
Njar knew he needed a bit more time before his energy would be ready for what he had planned, so he engaged the shade with his own question. “If I give you the dagger, will you leave her alone?”
The shade tossed his head back and laughed. The evil mist closed in on the orb. The green energy was entirely swallowed in the darkness, except for that which remained untouched within Njar’s orb of protection.
“No,” the shade said with a shake of his head. “My master also demands that I bring him the girl.”
“For what end?” Njar asked. “She is but a child.”
The shade shook his head. “No, she is more than that. She is Bhaltair’s daughter. My master should like to take her for his own designs.” The shade stalked forward and drew a long, sharp nail across the outside of the golden orb. The spell screeched and hissed as the nail created a sizzling line that threatened to crack the spell open.
“Then there is nothing I can help you with,” Njar said.
The wraiths screamed loudly and the darkness pulsed inward like a great current. The orb was struck like a gong and a terrible shockwave flowed through to Njar, shaking him and causing him terrible pain.
“Your orb will not protect you,” the shade hissed. “Give me what I want, and I shall make your death quick. Tell me where the girl is, and the dagger.”
Njar felt the green energy from below hook into his hooves and strengthen his legs. The spell had finally worked. Terramyr herself was sending the satyr energy to banish the creatures. He soaked the energy up through his legs, letting it course through his entire being like a warm fire in his veins. He smiled at the shade.
“I think I would rather send you back to Hammenfein,” the satyr said. He raised his staff and struck the ground with the butt of his staff, then he stabbed out with the top of his staff and smashed the inside of the golden shell. A blindingly hot flash of ligh
t erupted from within the orb. It was a fire of green and white that grew around the satyr within a fraction of a second. The orb expanded, cracked, and then burst open. Rays of searing light pierced the darkness, tearing holes in the dome around him. One of the beams ripped through a wraith, dissolving the creature into a pile of screaming ash on the ground. Njar leapt out toward the Shade, his staff alight with white and green flames.
The shade hissed and leapt back, receiving only a grazing swipe across his left shoulder. The wound smoked and bubbled, refusing to heal. The shade roared in anger and prepared a counter spell, but at that moment Njar’s spell erupted again and a roiling wave of light rolled out until it destroyed the dome of darkness. The sunlight poured in as the trees around the clearing were blown to the ground and caught fire. The other two wraiths were disintegrated in the spell as well.
The shade screamed in pain as the sunlight burned his exposed skin. He leapt back into the woods and snarled at Njar, heaving for breath.
“I’ll be back,” the shade warned before disappearing into a shadow.
Njar looked around. His chest was moving quickly, pulling in as much air as he could. His body leaned heavily upon his staff for support. He hadn’t been entirely sure the spell would work, but he was pleased to see that he had accomplished his goal. The Blacktongues and the wraiths were destroyed. The shade had at least been injured.
Njar could now feel the energies in the forest return to their natural, balanced state as the shade’s presence was no longer upon the woods. The satyr turned to walk, but a terrible pain stung his leg. He looked down to see a terrible gash running across his furry thigh. Blood ran down in five different rivulets across his fur, and his muscle was barely able to function at all. He could feel his energy leaving him quickly. He glanced back to the shadow where the shade had escaped and tried to remember what had happened.
He hadn’t felt it when it occurred, but he had seen a silvery flash when he leapt at the shade. It occurred to him now that he must have seen the shade swinging a sword, or perhaps wielding some sort of spell.
