Ravs Are Rarely Wrong: The Kinowenn Chronicles Vol III

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Ravs Are Rarely Wrong: The Kinowenn Chronicles Vol III Page 26

by Rachel Ronning


  The island was a bustling, energetic, noisy place. Half Giants were wrestling in the street. Half Dwarves were arguing about the best way to mold a breastplate. Shops were calling to prospective buyers. A group of overly large Gnomes was selling assorted versions of fried meat and vegetables on a stick. There seemed to be an archery tournament going on in the town square. This didn’t seem like the safest idea to Lucy. It exposed a large and busy area to the line of fire. Apparently, if you entered this archery tournament you weren’t expected to miss the target. A group of half sprites were playing music and dancing with strings of bells around their ankles. Their jingling steps added a merry accompaniment to their lutes, double flutes, and drums. Lucy landed in the alley behind a leather shop and melted back into her human form. She edged closer to watch the dancers, her toes tapping with the beat.

  “Is it always this lively here?” she asked Justin.

  “Give or take. The liveliness is common, but not necessarily the merriment. This is perhaps a bit more festive than usual.” Justin studied the sky. “I think it’s the summer solstice. That would explain the archery tournament in the town square.”

  “Will there be more music and dancing later?” asked Lucy.

  “Assuredly. These things tend to be wilder here than elsewhere.”

  “I haven’t been to any local festivals.”

  “No,” replied Justin reflectively, “We’ve been traveling during them. Or, back at the school.”

  “What do we do now?” asked Lucy. “Find the town leader?”

  “He or she is probably drunk by now. We won’t get anything accomplished until midmorning tomorrow. I suggest we find one of those Gnomes and buy something to eat. Then, we should find a wine garden and sample some local vintages. There are some slopes on the south side of the island that grow fantastic grapes. After that, we should be able to find a pastry to make your mouth water. By then, it should be time for dancing and revelry.”

  “That sounds entertaining and amusing. Are we allowed to have fun?” asked Lucy. So much of their time had been spent on quests.

  “Absolutely. This is a good place for it, too. No one parties like the Ostrakans party,” Justin grinned at her boyishly, took her hand, and led her past the dancers to find the Gnomes.

  Justin’s plan for the rest of the day went off without a hitch. The wine was among the best Lucy had ever tasted. The red had an oaky flavor to it but without being too dry. The amber had subtle hints of apple, kaliberry, and honey without being heavy enough to be mead. There was a white wine with a hint of avila to it that paired well with her fish pot pie. The thick, chokecherry syrup complimented the honey cakes for dessert. On solstice day, almost everyone was friendly to everyone else. People put aside the general arguments common on a small area of land populated mostly by mercenaries. Quarrels of any kind were resolved with a physical match of strength or stamina like arm wrestling, push-ups, or knife throwing. Lucy saw one argument settled by a headstand contest. It was an island so most people knew each other anyway, but today no one was a stranger. They were sipping wine and watching a speed weaving demonstration when someone recognized Justin.

  “Now there’s a face I haven’t seen in a while,” said a weathered, old man patting Justin on the shoulder.

  “Daffin, you’ve never seen my face,” joked Justin clapping an arm around the old man’s back.

  The old man smiled and wheezed a laugh. Lucy could see his eyes were white. He was blind. His face was so covered in lines that his skin resembled the bark of an oak tree. His hair was white, thinning, and tied back in a pony-tail. His leathers were at that perfectly comfortable, broken in level before they began to wear out. He carried a staff with him.

  “True, young Justin, true, but if I greet people saying I haven’t smelled them in a while, it tends to put them off.”

  “Uncomfortable truths are truths none the less,” said Lucy.

  The old man’s head cocked, he blinked, and his nostrils flared.

  “A beautiful lady speaks the truth. I don’t believe we’ve met before.” He smiled in her general direction and held out his hand.

  “Don’t remember smelling me before?” Lucy teased. She placed her hand in his.

  “No, I’d remember your smell,” he said, lightly kissing her hand.

  “I’m Lucy.”

  “Daffin,” he replied. “I’m the resident blind man, sometimes seer, who’s older than he should be.”

  “Anyone older than they should be is dead,” said Lucy.

  Daffin wheezed another laugh.

  “If you don’t keep her, can I have her?”

  “I don’t plan to give her up ever.”

  “Good. I always thought you were a smart one. I’ll fight you for her,” Daffin offered.

  Lucy wasn’t sure that would be a fair contest.

  “I thought you said I was smart. You’re not so old that I could beat you yet,” laughed Justin. Seeing Lucy’s confusion he added, “Daffin was one of Taran’s better teachers. Don’t let his looks fool you. Besides the Elven staff masters, I’ve met few who are better.”

  “My apologies,” offered Lucy.

  “Accepted. Although, apologies from a beautiful lady should always come with a kiss,” Daffin suggested.

  Lucy laughed at the old man’s audaciousness and kissed his cheek. She watched as his face wrinkled even more in a smile.

  “What brings you here, young Justin? I can sense your lady isn’t a half-blood.”

  “We’re looking for help.”

  “Hopefully you don’t need it tonight,” joked Daffin. “Judging by the amount of trouble I’m sure you’re capable of finding, I’m not sure anyone here is sober enough to be useful.”

  “I wasn’t paying attention. I forgot about the solstice. No one will be sober enough tonight to reason with. Tomorrow should be soon enough. It’s not like the army is moving yet. Who do we talk to?”

  “I’m a good start.”

  “They put you in charge?” asked Justin with mock surprise.

  “No, no one’s that reckless, even here. I’ve been around long enough; if I know what you need, I can find those who might have it.”

  “We traveled through the mists,” began Justin.

  “And you think I’m crazy?” interrupted Daffin.

  “It’s a long story,” defended Justin.

  “It must be. It’s been a while since I’ve heard a good, long story. We have time. Start at the beginning. Don’t leave out anything that involves this young woman. In fact, start the story with meeting her and end about three sips of wine ago.”

  So, over the next couple of hours, that’s what Justin did, amid Daffin’s questions and interruptions. Justin told about meeting Lucy at school, some of her training, the mock quest with Gavin and Maya, the real quest for the Eye of Elicion, their adventures with the Skelt, and Lucy’s short ambassadorship in Fredamonn, which led to their exploration of the mists. Justin explained about the Shadow Weavers, the invading army, and their current mission to find allies willing to fight an army of nightmares. Lucy was feeling tired by the time Justin wrapped up the story. They had been busy indeed.

  “That was a good story,” commented Daffin.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” replied Justin dryly.

  “Is King Joss willing to offer payment to any volunteer Ostrakan mercenaries or are you asking as a personal favor?”

  “King Joss is willing to offer compensation. He didn’t specify a limit to the number of mercenaries welcome to join us. We don’t want to deprive anyone of amusement.”

  “Good strategy,” replied Daffin.

  Lucy was beginning to wonder if everyone was crazy. She didn’t respect the ministers of Lerramorre who refused to face what was coming. However, the volunteers that had shown up so far were definitely on the losing side of a battle with sanity. How did facing an army of nightmares qualify as fun? She was surprised more people didn’t run away screaming. Lucy was only staying to fight because she had found
them in the first place and felt responsible. Besides, she had skills that could help. Perhaps she was too centralized to see those that did run away screaming.

  Daffin assured Justin and Lucy he would find them plenty of willing Ostrakans to fight. They could meet with them in the morning. In the meantime, Daffin suggested they dance. So they did. The bonfires were lit, musicians were playing, and everyone was dancing with abandon. It was easy to get swept up in the beat and spun, thrown, dragged, pulled, and flipped around the bonfires. Lucy was breathless and laughing by the time Daffin led them back to his place to sleep for the night. It was the most fun Lucy remembered having in recent memory. Justin was right, the Ostrakans did know how to party. She made a mental note to come back for the next solstice, provided they were alive.

  Chapter 36

  The morning dawned misty and gray. Lucy yawned as she stretched and rubbed sleep from her eyes. Daffin, sensing she was awake, smiled in her direction and offered her porridge for breakfast. It was hot, filling porridge with a touch of honey. It filled the tummy, stuck to the ribs, and left a sweet, satisfying taste in her mouth. Lucy expressed her appreciation. Daffin waved it aside with a smile. Justin rolled over, woke up, joined them, and finished off the rest of the porridge.

  “What are the plans for today?” asked Justin.

  “They should be arriving shortly,” replied Daffin.

  “Already? That seems early. I just got up, and I didn’t party like a lot of them did last night.”

  “You underestimate the restlessness and boredom the warriors here experience. The crafters enjoy themselves and stay busy. The warriors are rarely happy when there is nothing or no one to fight, even though they all express a wish for peace while fighting. Warriors may dream of home and peace, but sadly don’t always adjust to it as thoroughly as they miss it when they are gone. Festivals and tournaments help, but it’s not the same thing. It doesn’t give them the adrenaline rush. If things are too peaceful in the outside world and few commissions are coming in, we start to fight amongst ourselves. It’s not always a party around here.”

  Justin nodded in understanding. He had seen Kinda bored. It wasn’t always pretty. He was worried Gavin might turn the same way. Gavin could always hone his skills, but even the Elves weren’t beating him consistently and sparring didn’t offer the adrenaline rush of battle. Justin hoped Gavin didn’t become an adrenaline junkie. That could really be dangerous for others and potentially fatal for his friend. While Justin mulled on these thoughts, interested parties started showing up. Justin greeted those he recognized with smiles and small waves. Once there were about twenty beings present, Daffin stood up.

  “Good morning and welcome. I invited you here because I thought you might be interested in what young Justin has to say. I think the beautiful Lucy has a demonstration prepared if it is needed. Then, you are welcome to spread the word to anyone else who might be interested,” Daffin finished and sat back down. He moved with a grace that belied his apparent age and blindness.

  “Thank you for coming. Does anyone want the long story or would you prefer the condensed version?” Justin asked with a smile.

  “Did you tell Daffin the long story?” asked a half Giant.

  Justin nodded.

  “It’s worth hearing in its entirety,” said Daffin.

  “Give us the short version, then,” said a half Elf with a wry smile. “If we feel you don’t do it justice, we can ask him later.”

  “Thank you Verith,” Justin nodded to the half Elf.

  Lucy stared at the half Elf, comparing him to Justin. Verith’s ears and brows came to sharper points than Justin’s did. He was definitely taller and more slender. She hadn’t seen him move, so she couldn’t compare elegance. If she hadn’t met the full-blooded Elves en masse, she would have assumed Verith was one. However, he didn’t exude the overwhelming sense of Elveness she had since discovered.

  “After a suspicious mishap in Fredamonn, a warrior, Taran, Lucy, and I traveled though the mists looking for information. We discovered Shadow Weavers, possibly three, are preparing to lead an army of nightmare creatures out of the mists. We assume their goal is total annihilation or enslavement of the free peoples of Kinowenn followed by occupation of their lands. As we’re not fond of being annihilated, we are trying to put together an army to stand against them. Since they’ll reach Lerramorre first, we are mustering there under the direction of King Joss and myself. I believe Joss would be willing to offer monetary compensation if you care to join us.”

  “I’m in,” said a half Dwarf. “Daffin mentioned a demonstration?”

  “I can use water to see what is happening in other places. I can show you the army,” offered Lucy.

  “Justin’s word is good enough for me, but I always like a demonstration,” added Verith.

  Lucy smiled, stepped up to the porridge pot. With a wave of her arm, the caked remains of breakfast disappeared and everyone was looking at an aerial view of themselves looking at the pot. Although the demonstrations were necessary, Lucy had to admit they were getting a little tedious. Her life was feeling like a repetition of urgency, travel, cauldron viewing, convincing arguing, and waiting.

  “Can you teach me to do that?” asked someone in the back.

  “I can try,” laughed Lucy.

  Lucy moved the picture off the group west and south. They could see the army from the Wild Woods and the bustle around Lerramorre, including the Elven encampment. Lucy moved the picture farther west, over the mountains, through the mists and to the Shadow Weaver’s keep. As often as she had made this journey, the dark energy emanating from the castle and those surrounding it still made her want to shiver. The army had grown and appeared to be making final preparations. They would start to travel soon, in the next few days. It looked like time was running out. Lucy was sure the Ostrakans were more interested in the army proper than the existence of the Shadow Weavers. With this in mind, she swept over the army of nightmares as much as she dared, back and forth, never focusing too long on any one group or area in case something there could sense her watching. Then, she traveled towards the entrance of the keep, through the courtyard, and into the main fortress. She was starting towards the throne room when someone shouted.

  “Drop the picture! Drop the picture!”

  Lucy didn’t know what had prompted the outburst but moved her arm and dropped the image immediately. She hadn’t sensed anything. The ring on her hand hadn’t warned her of anything nefarious. She wasn’t egotistic enough to assume no one else had talents worth acknowledging. She tried to find the speaker. No one looked upset.

  “It’s Trilla,” Verith told Justin, who nodded.

  Apparently that meant something to everyone else, but Lucy was confused. She looked at Justin with raised eyebrows.

  “Trilla is a half sprite. One of her abilities is to act as a living divining rod to evil,” Justin explained. “She can sense evil and a base awareness of its intent. She’s extremely useful to have around.”

  The skinny, short, blue skinned Trilla walked towards Lucy. She was breathing hard, but looked composed and determined.

  “You have shown people this before?” Trilla asked, pointing to the water. “You have been there to look many times?”

  “Yes,” replied Lucy. “I’ve had to. To try to prove what’s coming. To convince them to act. Many people don’t accept our word. It has been so long since anything powerful has come out of the mists. No one wants to believe it’s happening now.” She was confused. She could sense Trilla thought this was a bad thing, but she didn’t know why.

  “Has He seen you?”

  “The first time, I think he sensed me. I’ve tried to be careful since then.”

  “Not careful enough. He knows someone has been spying on him. You are powerful enough to stand out, even in that crowd. Especially because he senses you lack the taint of pure evil in your magic. He probably assumes you are a Rav. Whatever his reasoning is, he waits for you. He has set a trap for you. He wants you.
You must not show anyone else the Shadow Weavers,” Trilla said with great intensity.

  “How can we convince others to join us if I can’t show them the truth?” asked Lucy.

  “You can still show them the army. That should be enough. It will have to be enough. Anyone who can gather that kind of army is a threat and worth opposing even if they don’t see proof of what it is. Do not enter the keep again.”

  “Okay,” agreed Lucy.

  “I mean it. Do not enter the keep or search for the Shadow Weavers,” she repeated.

  “I understand,” agreed Lucy again.

  “I’m sorry,” apologized Trilla with a small smile. “I am not used to strangers believing me unequivocally. I hear in your voice you believe me.”

  “I understand,” said Lucy with an answering smile. “I have trouble with people believing me, too. Perhaps that is why I am so willing to believe others without testing them first. Also, everyone here seems to respect and trust your intuition when it involves evil. I believe that if nothing else.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now we have plenty of proof something ominous is coming,” said Verith. “What do we plan to do about it?”

  “Fight it!” shouted everyone.

  “Good answer,” smiled Daffin. “Spread the word to anyone else you think might join us. What is the next step, young Justin?”

  “Lucy and I are going to try convincing the Dwarves and the Giants to join in the fun. I’d advise you get a group together and travel to Lerramorre.”

  “Who do we see when we get there? They know an army of nightmares is coming. I’d hate to be confused for them,” intoned a green-skinned half Giant. This brought chuckles from the group.

  “Taran is there. Report to him.” Some of the beings in the crowd smiled at this. They had fought with Taran before and would enjoy doing so again. “In the meantime, I’ll send him a message you are coming. He’ll be happy to see you.”

 

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