Go Quest Young Man

by K. B. Bogen

  Chesric walked over to the stump.

  “No, Chesric, don’t!” Too late.

  Chesric removed the stone on the top of the stump and suddenly the world was filled with damselflies.

  Cries of “Our heroes!” and “You saved us!” filled the air as the miniature maidens fluttered about, bathing them with caresses.

  Erwyn leaped astride Bandal, shouting to Chesric at the same time. “Mount and ride! We’ve got to get out of here!” Then he kicked the horse into a gallop and raced as though demons were on his trail.

  Behind him, Erwyn heard the hoofbeats of Chesric’s horse as they left the startled damselflies behind. He didn’t slow down until they came within sight of the rest of the group.

  Kerissa turned in her saddle, pulling back on the reins. “What is it now, Erwyn?”

  “N .. . nothing.” Erwyn gasped for breath. “Just trying to avoid a terrible fate.”

  “What was that?”

  “Death by smooching.”

  “I resent that!” a familiar voice said from the vicinity of Erwyn’s collar. Viona had somehow managed to get tangled in Erwyn’s hair and had thus remained with him during his ride.

  After carefully removing the strands from her wings, Viona got out of Erwyn’s hair, at least in the literal sense, and hovered near the boy’s face.

  “What are you doing here?” Erwyn noticed his voice was squeaking again.

  “You didn’t mean what you said, did you? You weren’t really trying to avoid me, were you?” Her lower lip trembled. Tears glistened on her eyelashes.

  Just like Sharilan, that voice in the back of Erwyn’s head warned him. But this was different. Wasn’t it?

  While his mind wrestled with the problem, his mouth stammered on without him. “Well, uh, no. Not exactly. It’s just that ... ”

  “Oh, I knew you wouldn’t be so mean and cruel as to desert me in my hour of need!” Viona fluttered up to his ear, grabbing it to plant a particularly spectacular kiss on his earlobe.

  “Come on, stop that!” Erwyn tried to jerk his head away from her.

  It didn’t work. Viona had a tight grip on his ear.

  “If you are quite finished, shouldn’t we be resuming our trip?” Kerissa seized an opportunity to jump into the conversation.

  To Erwyn’s relief and surprise, she wasn’t laughing.

  “Where are we going?” Viona squealed like a schoolgirl, or a princess, or some other feminine mutant. She flew around to stare at Erwyn, her eyes round with wonder.

  “What do you mean ‘we,’ Viona? You aren’t coming with us.” Erwyn looked to his companions for help.

  Kerissa might have managed not to laugh at him, but Devydd and Chesric were grinning from ear to ear. Lariyn was pointedly looking in another direction. He was on his own.

  “Of course, I’m going with you, silly. After all, you saved my life. I can’t let you go traipsing off alone without trying to pay you back at least a little bit.”

  “But I’m not alone! As far as I can tell, I’ll never be alone again.”

  “Come, come. Don’t get yourself all upset. It’s bad for the digestion, you know.” She simpered prettily, patted his cheek, then lit softly on his shoulder. “Shall we go?”

  Erwyn shook his head and lightly kicked his horse. There was no point arguing with her. He recognized the symptoms. Talking wouldn’t change her mind, but maybe actions could.

  They rode together in relative silence, Kerissa and Lariyn in front, Chesric and Devydd next, with Erwyn and, unfortunately, Viona bringing up the rear. Erwyn had no idea where the Marlians were headed and, frankly, didn’t care. By the time the group made camp, the young sorcerer had worked himself back into a beautiful depression.

  He helped with the normal chores involved in setting up camp. Then, after wolfing down his dinner, Erwyn took his journal from his pack and found a nice quiet tree where he could be alone. It had been some time since his last entry, so he quickly brought it up to date.

  ... then, summoning the dregs of my failing energy, I turned on the scoundrels from Perbellum and cast my spell. The entire male population of the city fell into the gigantic hole I conjured. The theif and I were free at last.

  We returned to the Marlian warriers victorious, but the Tetraliad was no longer in the hands of the theif I had rescued. Captain Kerissa and her people begged me to help them recover their lost talisman. They have provided us with mounts, weapons, and supplies.

  I have decided we should take Devydd with us. He may prove useful should we ever locate the hiding place of the Tetraliad.

  After leaving Perbellum, I was forced to perform one more good deed before being allowed the rest to which I was entitled. A beautiful damsel was caught beneath an avalanche of rock. Worse, a huge, fire-breathing dragon was stalking her, obviously intending to eat her.

  In spite of my extreme distaste for damsels in distress, I waded in to the fray and soon routed the beast. The lady was so happy to be safely delivered from so untimely a death that she swore to remain with me forever. It’s tough being a hero, but someone’s ...

  “What are you doing, Erwyn, my love?” Viona flitted over to where Erwyn sat.

  Erwyn looked up, startled, and slammed the book closed. “N-nothing important. I’m supposed to keep a journal of my adventures.”

  “Oooh! Can I see?”

  “No! That is, we’re not supposed to let anyone see it.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s all right. I can’t read anyway.” She frowned that pretty frown of hers. “They don’t make books small enough, so I never learned.”

  “That’s good ... I mean, that’s too bad.” Erwyn hesitated. “I guess you can look at mine.” He opened the journal, while Viona fluttered over to his shoulder to get a comfortable seat.

  “Oooh! That’s pretty.”

  “What is?”

  “All those cute little curves and squiggles. Do you think you could teach me to make curves and squiggles?” She flew around to hover in front of his nose.

  “Sure thing. Catch me sometime when I haven’t got anything else to do.”

  “How about now? Do you have anything to do now?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Erwyn quickly produced a yawn and stood up. “I think it’s past my bedtime.”

  “Oh.” Viona looked disappointed.

  “Maybe another time,” Erwyn said gently as he headed for his bedroll.

  “Okay.” She smiled. “I’ll remind you.”

  “Great.”

  “Can I help you get your bed ready?”

  “No, thanks. I can handle it.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’ve been doing it by myself for a long time, thank you.” He opened his bedroll and laid it out on the ground.

  “Well, okay, if you say so.”

  “I say so.”

  After removing his boots, Erwyn snuggled into his bedroll. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. As an afterthought, he decided to set the wards. He’d almost forgotten about them. There hadn’t been any need to set them in the Marlian encampment with so many armed women about. Who would attack them? Besides the men from Perbellum, that is.

  “Good night, Erwyn.”

  Erwyn’s eyes popped open. There was the damselfly, already half asleep, tucked comfortably in a fold of his bedroll. Erwyn sighed and closed his eyes again. As he drifted off, he wondered if he could be accused of murder if he rolled over on her in his sleep.

  Sticky Help Is Better Than No Help At All

  Spring Preening

  “A GOOD LEADER KNOWS HOW TO MAKE THE BEST USE OF HIS MEN.” — Sorcerers’ Almanac, Section Three: On People and Their Influence

  “Erwyn, honey, wake up. We’ve got company.”

  Erwyn rolled over, moaning and pulling the covers over his head. His neck and back muscles were tight and sore, and hi
s left arm was asleep. He needed five more minutes of sack time.

  Seconds later, something tugged at his bedroll.

  “Come on, sweetie. It’s time to rise and shine. It’s a beautiful morning.”

  He cracked one eye open and glared at the damselfly, mumbling. “Funny, I don’t remember asking for a wakeup call.” The other eye flew open as he realized that the damselfly in front of him had red hair, not blonde.

  “Hey, Viona! I think he’s awake.” The redhead called to a point above Erwyn’s covers.

  Another tiny damsel flew in front of his face. This one was a blonde.

  “Good morning, sweetie-pie.”

  “Uh, yeah. G’ morning, Viona.” Erwyn groaned as he carefully rolled onto his back and started to inch his way out of his bedroll.

  “Hi, Handsome,” came a call from the tree above Erwyn.

  “I thought we’d never catch up with you. You sure rode fast.” Another shout came from somewhere near the foot of Erwyn’s bedroll.

  He sat bolt upright, wincing as the circulation started in his left arm again. Rubbing his forearm vigorously, he stared around the clearing.

  They were surrounded. Sort of. The entire population of damselflies, as near as Erwyn could determine, hovered, perched, flitted, or flew around their camp. And all of them seemed to be talking. The noise was, well, not precisely deafening, but loud and sort of ... itchy. Like being at a cricket convention.

  He glanced over to where Chesric had placed his bedroll. The old knight sat on his blankets, his chin cupped in his hand. But he wasn’t alone. Damselflies perched on his head and arms. Others lay on his covers or swung from his mustache.

  Devydd seemed unperturbed. Actually, amused would be a better description. But then, there were fewer of the pretty pests swooping around him.

  “This is not to be borne!” Kerissa strode into the area where the men had bedded for the night. Apparently, the damselflies had never seen a woman in armor before.

  Five or six of the tiny ladies fluttered in and out through the chinks in Kerissa’s armor. From beneath the breastplate came soft “pings” as though little hands rapped on the metal from the inside. The captain’s expression was haunted. Or maybe her suit was. At any rate, she wasn’t happy.

  Lariyn stood a pace behind her captain. The cloud of miniature maidens, all “ooo-ing” and “aaah-ing” over their armor, didn’t seem to bother her much. She just looked a little uncomfortable. Erwyn’s opinion of the lieutenant went up a notch.

  Kerissa glared at Erwyn and Chesric. “Do something!”

  “What do you suggest?” Short of mass murder, he could think of nothing.

  “I don’t know. Just get rid of them!”

  “Hey, kid, can I borrow a couple of your friends?” Devydd watched the damselflies, his expression cryptic.

  “I can’t give them away. They don’t exactly belong to me. Anyway, why would you want one?”

  “They could be useful for my work. You know, polishing tiny crevices, sneaking into locked rooms, slipping through small openings, steal ... ,er, carrying small objects, gathering information, and scouting around.”

  Erwyn stared at the thief, a slow smile coming to his lips as the idea formed in his head. “That’s perfect.”

  “What’s perfect?” Chesric had finally extricated himself from his blanket of beauties.

  “Devydd’s suggestion.”

  Devydd looked at Chesric and back to Erwyn. “What suggestion?”

  Erwyn didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to the damselfly population at large. “Ladies, could I have your attention?”

  The damselflies got quiet. Well, almost. They looked at him expectantly.

  Erwyn cleared his voice nervously. He wasn’t much good at public speaking, even if most of the audience was only three inches tall. This could be worse than the interview with Kerissa.

  “Um, have any of you ever heard anything about a castle somewhere around here?” Erwyn tried to keep his voice from squeaking. “A big stone one, surrounded by a high wall of thorns and guarded by a dragon?”

  “Not a word ... Nothing ... Nope ... Not around here ... Uh-uh ... ”

  They didn’t quite answer all at once, but they came close. When the round of answers stopped several minutes later, Erwyn continued.

  “Do you really want to repay us for releasing you from the stump?”

  “Of course ... Always ... Certainly ... Yeah ... Uh-huh ... ”

  “Well, how about finding it for me?”

  “But how will that help repay you?”

  “I have to find that castle. If you will all separate into small groups, say two or three at a time, and look around, I’ll be able to find it sooner.”

  The damselflies coalesced into a huge, seething, buzzing, ball for a minute or two. Finally, they separated.

  “Is it important? We’d much rather stay with you.”

  “Very important. Extremely important. A matter of life and death, as it were.”

  “Okay.”

  Then they disappeared. Or at least they flew away so fast they seemed to disappear.

  “What happens if they find this castle?” Lariyn asked the question Erwyn didn’t really want to consider. “How do they find us? We’re not going to wait here until they come back, are we?”

  “Uh ... ”

  “Don’t worry.” Viona interrupted Erwyn. He jumped. He’d hoped Viona would go with the rest of the crowd, er, flock, whatever. “As long as I’m with you, they’ll be able to find you, wherever you go.”

  “Great. That’s so reassuring.”

  Erwyn’s sarcasm was wasted on Viona.

  “I’m so glad. It makes me feel wonderful to be able to repay you, even in so small a way, for saving my life. You have no idea how frightened I was, when that mean old dragonfly landed. And there I was, helpless and alone. I’m so happy someone as brave and kind and cute as you came along in time to save me.”

  Erwyn wasn’t quite as happy about it as Viona. She looked as though she might go into another kissing fit at any moment. Quickly, he turned to the others.

  “Shouldn’t we get started? Soon.”

  They packed their gear and headed out, still continuing to travel west, for lack of a better direction to take.

  The rest of the group was in good spirits for the remainder of the day. Erwyn’s spirits, however, dropped drastically. The others didn’t have any damselflies to contend with, while Viona acted perfectly damsel-ish throughout the morning and most of the afternoon.

  She darted here and there on her gossamer wings, examining each flower and bush with exclamations of “Oh! How pretty!” and “I must get one of these for my very own!” and “Wouldn’t that make a perfectly lovely gown for the next damselfly ball!”

  Erwyn was so thoroughly disgusted by the time they made camp that he couldn’t even eat his supper. He just crawled into his bedroll and tried vainly to ignore Viona’s queries about his health.

  The next several days were pretty much the same. Erwyn lost track of how far they had come, or what the scenery was like. He wasn’t even sure what they were doing, anymore. His head buzzed from Viona’s incessant chatter.

  Finally, he’d had enough. They were setting up camp in a nice grove of trees, and Viona had been giving a running commentary for about an hour on how nice the trees were and how much nicer they’d be if someone would just move them a little to the left.

  “Viona, I don’t mean to be rude but could you leave me alone. Just for a little while?” he yelled, a little louder than he’d planned.

  Not waiting for an answer, Erwyn stalked off into the trees. For once, the damselfly didn’t follow. She stayed at camp, probably sulking.

  He felt just awful about yelling at Viona that way, but he needed to have some time to himself once in a while or he’d explode. Like he just did
.

  After a few minutes’ walk, he found a nice, comfortable spot beneath a tree and sat down.

  Ah! Peace and quiet at last. He leaned against the tree, eyes closed, listening to the rustle of the leaves and the sounds of the birds who made the tree their home.

  Regretfully, he hauled his mind back to the present. It had been a long time since he’d practiced his lessons, much less worked on learning more about the sandcastles. He’d been more than a little afraid to let his conscious mind start muddling things up, anyway. His subconscious seemed to handle the castles so easily.

  First, there had been the tiny castle which had appeared when he was trying to figure out the wand. Then there was the castle that sprang out of nowhere in the midst of a blizzard. Right when and where he’d needed it most.

  And the business at Perbellum. Not only did the castle appear at an extremely opportune moment, but the sand itself came from the perfect location. In fact, it wasn’t the castle which was important that time. It was the hole. Erwyn sometimes wondered about his subconscious.

  But there had to be a way to control it. He couldn’t depend on his subconscious forever. And he had done it on purpose once. Just before Kerissa and her crew clobbered him.

  Trying to remember how he’d done it that time, Erwyn concentrated on building another miniature castle.

  This time it was easy. Well, relatively easy.

  He imagined a tiny castle-shaped mold on the ground at his feet. He felt a tingling around him as the magical energies built. Then he pictured sand pouring into the mold.

  And there it was. A perfect replica of the castle at Dunaara, Veridan’s capital.

  He sat back against the tree feeling very satisfied. He still didn’t know where the sand had come from, but that shouldn’t be a problem. The amount of sand in this castle wasn’t enough to cause trouble, and he could figure out how to control his source later, anyway.

  Erwyn tried maintaining the castle in the back of his mind as he looked about him. Before, the castles created by his subconscious had only lasted as long as he needed them. Really needed them. He had to learn to maintain them indefinitely.