Spawn of Fury

by Sean Hinn

  Wooo—oolf! Wooo—oolf! Where are yeh, Wolf?”

  Aria’s eyes opened to the sound of Shyla’s call from outside. She turned to see Trellia awakening beside her in the tent. It was the same tent they had bathed in the night before, but the tubs were gone. In their place lush beds had been prepared for the three female companions. Shyla’s sat empty. Trellia stretched lazily atop hers.

  “Wow. I feel as if I have slept a cycle.”

  “We may have,” Aria replied. “I have never felt so refreshed.”

  “Indeed.” Trellia smiled.

  “You came in late,” Aria observed. “Long after I had come to bed.”

  Trellia nodded as she sat up. Her smile deepened. “Yes, I did.”

  Aria’s jaw fell open. “Oh, Trellia. Tell me you did not.”

  “I did not what?” Trellia replied in faux innocence, hugging herself briefly, closing her eyes. She rose from her bed. “What a lovely place this is, is it not? Come, Aria. Let us begin our day. It will likely not prove as delightful as the night, but we must rise nonetheless.”

  Aria tossed her blanket aside and rose. She stepped towards the opening of the tent and peeked out. “Trellia! It is late afternoon! We have slept all day!”

  “And yet the world goes on. Peace, Aria. We all needed the rest.”

  Aria pulled on a pair of breeches. “Did you happen to see Lucan last night? Or Mikallis?”

  Trellia shook her head. “Not a glimpse.”

  “Hmph. I wonder if they were as delighted as you last night.”

  “I hope they were, Aria. Though somehow I doubt it.”

  Aria sat on the bed and began lacing up her boots. “So, you do not think they would… I mean….”

  “Make love to one of these fine young specimens of perfection? I have no idea about that. Only that for either of them to be as delighted as I was would be quite a feat.”

  Aria shook her head. “Honestly, Trellia. Have you no sense of propriety?”

  Trellia laughed as she slipped a dress over her head. “Our hosts do not. Have you noticed how happy they all seem to be? But never mind that. Help me with these buttons, would you?”

  Aria moved to assist the Vicaris. “I hope J’arn is all right,” she said. “He was so distraught. I think he must have drank every drop of plumwine in the Elms.”

  “It is very sad to lose a loved one,” Trellia agreed. “We will need to offer him our support. But Aria,” Trellia turned, “he must not return to Belgorne. You understand this, yes?”

  Aria nodded. “I do, but I do not think it is our decision. He is king now. He must do what he thinks is best for his people, yes?”

  “He must be made to understand what is best for his people. If the foretelling of Ya Di is true, the fate of his people is bound to this company. You must help him see that.”

  “I do not know if that is true, Vicaris. Yes, perhaps he is one of the five, but perhaps his part in all this lies with his people.”

  “Do you trust Barris?” Trellia asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Then you must not allow this company to alter its course. Barris said we must find this fifth companion and return to the Grove. There are things he knows that we do not know. You must not second guess him.”

  Aria sighed. “I suppose you are right. And I suppose it all depends on whether we will find our fifth here in Eyreloch.”

  Trellia began to lace her own boots. “I believe we have passed their test.”

  “I think that depends upon what Lucan and Mikallis were up to last night.”

  “Lucan. Not Mikallis.”

  Aria regarded the Vicaris. The two women held each other’s gaze for a long moment.

  “He should not be here.”

  “He only wishes to protect me, Trellia.”

  “You know that is not true.”

  A silent moment hung between the two women. “Fine. But what would you have me do? Send him back to Thornwood? He has been my dearest friend, all my life. I cannot disgrace him so.”

  “You must, Aria. He cannot protect you against what is to come, and his presence is a distraction.”

  “And how do you know what is to come?” Aria shot back, her tone more abrupt than she intended. Trellia sat beside Aria on her bed.

  “Hear me, Princess.” The use of Aria’s title heightened the gravity of the exchange. “You have seen what is to come. You and Lucan both. Have you not?”

  Several breaths passed before Aria nodded.

  “What can a green captain of Thornwood do against such things? What could he have done against the dragon? He would die for you, I have no doubt. And then you would grieve, and blame yourself, and you would be right to. No, Aria. You must not allow that to come to pass. If your attention falters, if your resolve falters, it could cost much more than the loss of a friendship. And many more than you would bear that cost.”

  Aria nodded, lowering her eyes. “You are wise, Vicaris. I do not know what I would do without you.”

  Trellia patted Aria on the knee and stood as Shyla’s voice again rang through the wood.

  “Come. Let us help Shyla find her Wolf before they banish us for her bellowing.”

  ~

  Dusk neared as Trellia and Aria sat to eat a prepared meal of fowl and eggs beneath the great elms. Shyla joined them, assured by Chono that Wolf was playing with Pado and Neela, and would return soon. Lucan and Mikallis approached together, walking in step, seemingly at ease with one another. They sat to join the meal.

  “Where’s J’arn?” Shyla asked, concerned.

  “He is waking,” Lucan said. “He wanted a moment alone.”

  Shyla nodded. “Did yeh talk with ‘im? Is he all right?”

  Mikallis replied. “He is despondent, Shyla. As one would expect. He and his father were quite close.”

  “He blames himself,” Lucan added. “He believes if he were home, he might have somehow saved him.”

  “Ain’t no way to know that,” Shyla said, standing. “I’ma go get ‘im.”

  Trellia objected. “I would not–”

  “I would,” Shyla interrupted, taking off at a run.

  The four ate in silence for several turns before Aria and Mikallis spoke at once.

  “Aria–”

  “Mikallis–”

  Lucan and Trellia exchanged looks.

  “Well, I’m full,” Trellia said, standing. “Lucan, would you help me round up the horses please?”

  Lucan stood immediately, understanding. He clapped a hand on Mikallis’ shoulder. The two shared a sympathetic look.

  When the two had gone, Mikallis spoke first.

  “Aria, I would tell you something.”

  “No. Please. Let me, Mikallis. If you would.” Aria’s tone was mild.

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  Aria took a breath, moving her chair to sit nearer Mikallis.

  “You have been my friend all my life.”

  Mikallis nodded. “And you have been mine.”

  Aria swallowed. “What I must say now is more difficult for me than you could imagine. But you must hear me, as your friend and as your princess.”

  The captain sat impassively.

  “You must return to Thornwood, my captain.”

  Mikallis nodded. “I know.”

  Aria blinked. The two held each other’s gaze for an eternity.

  “You understand why, then?”

  Mikallis nodded again. “I do.”

  Tears welled in Aria’s eyes. Mikallis resisted the urge to wipe them away. They soon fell freely down her pale cheeks.

  “That is all I had to say,” she said finally, wiping at her face. Her voice quavered. “There is something you wished to tell me.”

  The captain sighed. “I… no. It does not matter.”

  “Mikallis–”

  “Do not be sad, dearest friend. I have behaved… dishonorably.” Mikallis took a breath and straightened himself. “I would go with you as far as the Grove, Princess, if you will al
low it. Unless you would prefer–”

  Aria leaned forward and kissed Mikallis on the mouth, softly, briefly. She took his face in her hands and pressed her forehead against his. “Of course.” The two sat together quietly for a moment, Mikallis’ hands resting in his lap. Aria did not notice his fingers trembling. “Know that I do love you, Mikallis Elmshadow. Perhaps not as you would wish, perhaps not today, but the life of an elf is long.”

  Mikallis leaned back slowly, breaking their gentle contact. “All will be as it must be. Will you… will you excuse me?”

  Aria nodded, swallowing a sob.

  ~

  “J’arn?” Shyla called into the tent. Silence greeted her in reply. She called again.

  “J’arn? Can yeh hear me?”

  “Aye, Shyla. I can hear ye.” The sound of clothes being stuffed into a pack was clear through the canvas. A moment passed as Shyla considered her words.

  “Yeh canna go, J’arn.”

  A heavy pause lingered before J’arn replied.

  “Ye know I must.”

  “We need yeh, J’arn.”

  “Belgorne needs me, Shy–”

  “I need yeh.”

  A hand pulled back the tent flap and held it open. Shyla walked through the opening. The tent smelled of sweat and wine.

  “I know yer sad, J’arn,” Shyla said. “I canna tell yeh how sorry I am.”

  J’arn took a seat on his bed. Shyla sat beside him.

  “Aye, Shyla. I be sad. But it ain’t that. My people need a king.”

  “I know it. And they can have yeh, soon as we do what needs doin’.”

  “And what might that be? Did someone tell ye? ‘Cause they ain’t told me yet.”

  Shyla shook her head. “We’re bound to find out at the Grove,” she said. “Gotta go that way anyhow, dontcha? If yer goin’ home?”

  J’arn nodded. “Partway, aye.”

  “Then ain’t no sense runnin’ off now alone. What’ll ye do if that thing comes back?”

  “I’ll bury this axe in its hide like the last one.”

  “Lotta good that did.”

  “Well, then I s’pose it’ll eat me.”

  “Or burn yeh up. Or burn yeh up then eat yeh.”

  “Shyla–”

  “Or maybe it’ll gnaw on yeh a bit, then burn yeh up, then eat yeh. Or maybe–”

  “Dammit, Shyla! I know ye understand me!”

  “Course I do! Yeh gotta get home. But yer brother can handle things a bit.”

  “Ye ain’t met me brother.”

  “No, I ain’t. But if he’s at all like the one Silverstone I do know, he’ll do the best he can.”

  J’arn sighed. “Aye, he’ll do that.”

  “All I’m sayin’ is yeh ain’t gotta decide nothin’ yet. If it’s Belgorne where yeh gotta be, we’ll get yeh there. I’ll take yeh myself. But yeh gotta stick with me, J’arn. A bit longer. I gotta maybe save my people, too, looks like. Mawbottom if I know how, mind yeh. But if it’s gonna take five of us, and you ain’t with us, well, then what?”

  “It ain’t like I don’t understand the problem, Shyla. I guess I just don’t think there’s aught five of us can do. And I ain’t even sure I believe all this fairytale nonsense, anyhow.”

  “Turned out yeh had magic. Barris got that part right.”

  J’arn chewed his lip.

  “Turned out the rest of us did too.”

  “Aye. But not all that much, seems to me.”

  “The Airie folk knew we was comin’. And they seem to think we got all kinds o’ magic.”

  “Aye. Well, they knew Lucan was comin’, at least. And that part be just plain odd.”

  “See it through, J’arn. Just ’til we get to the Grove. If it all seems like a pile o’ dung still then, I’ll go to Belgorne with yeh. Me an’ Wolf. I gotta figure out why my mama and papa are out in the Maw anyways.”

  Before J’arn could reply, an enormous black head burst through the flaps of the tent. J’arn dove for his axe, but it was too late. The beast was atop Shyla, and she began to scream.

  “Shyla!” J’arn bellowed. The huge head turned towards J’arn and licked its fangs… and turned on itself, suddenly gnawing with ferocity at its own backside.

  “What the–?” J’arn said, incredulous.

  Shyla scrambled from beneath the beast and stood, breathing heavily. Standing before her, panting, tail opening and closing the flap of the tent in rhythm, was, impossibly, her Wolf, somehow enlarged to the size of a small horse. Tentatively, Shyla reached towards him. The gnome was rewarded with a lick from a foot-long tongue, drenching her face in saliva.

  Wolf dropped down on his front paws, rear end sticking up high.

  “WOOF!”

  Wolf turned and bounded out through the tent flaps, tearing out the stakes as he went. The tent collapsed around the gnome and the dwarf. A moment later it raised again, hovered above them, and came to a rest a few paces away. Standing before J’arn and Shyla were Pado and Neela, smiling ear to ear, angelic faces glowing with pride. Their smiles quickly faded as they recognized the expressions of shock and fear J’arn and Shyla wore.

  “Don’t be mad!” said Neela.

  “Yeah, don’t be mad! It was Wolf’s idea!”

  Neela turned towards Pado. “Yeah, after you suggested it!”

  “Well, he said he was scared all the time! You heard him!”

  “Oh Shyla, please don’t be mad!” Neela pleaded again.

  “Mad? Why in Tahr would I be mad? He’s PERFECT! Wooo-ooooolf!” Shyla sprinted after her enormous, furry friend, all the woes of life forgotten. J’arn stood quietly, jaw hanging open.

  “Are you mad, J’arn Silverstone?” asked Pado.

  “Is he gonna stay that big?” asked J’arn.

  Pado shrugged. Neela nodded.

  “Then I ain’t mad a bit. Now that’s a Wolf!”

  ~

  Wolf’s transformation proved sufficiently distracting to delay the formal summit with the Airies until late in the day. Pado, Neela, and several other Airie children each took turns attempting to ride the newly-enlarged hound, their repeated and comical tumbles from his back causing even the aggrieved J’arn to laugh. Wolf made no complaint; on the contrary, he could not have seemed more elated, not only by his colossal size, but by his new friends. Joyously he raced about, chasing Hope and Spirit, dashing between Triumph and Osraed, over and across the Trine and Morline bridges, between and among the elms, through puddles of mud and up grassy hillocks as the light of day faded into pastel hues of pink and auburn, and finally, violet. In those brief, blissful hours, as the companions from the Grove looked on in shared delight, only Shyla proved equal to the task of riding Wolf. By the time the furry, mud-caked beast was too exhausted to run about, Shyla Greykin had mastered the task of riding with her friend.

  The horizon rushed to meet the setting sun, the final slivers of the day’s light casting brilliant rainbows through the misty spray of the Falls of Eyre, enthralling the companions from the Grove as well as their hosts. A hush fell over the glade. Despite the presence of dozens upon dozens of Airies, one could not hear a word spoken nor a breath taken, only the sound of rushing water over the falls and the gentle rustle of wind through the trees as the onlookers stood in awe at the beauty that was Tahr.

  It was fitting that Lor and Kal joined the gathering from behind; upon turning to see the Ladies of Eyre approach, the companions could not help but contrast the splendor they had turned from with the darkening skies of the east. It was for that reason they had come so far; it was that fragile beauty that was at stake, and it was that which they would now discuss.

  Lor and Kal stood quietly for a moment, heads bowed. The Airies bowed their heads as well; the companions from the Grove took the cue. After a few breaths they looked up in unison. “Friends,” Lor began, her clear voice somehow muting the crashing falls. “You are beautiful to us.”

  “And you are beautiful to us,” answered the assembly in refrain. All but J’arn
repeated the honor, his mind elsewhere.

  Lor stepped forward to where the companions stood in a semicircle. She addressed Trellia first.

  “Trellia Evanti, Vicaris of the Grove, that you are wife of none is a sadness to me, for you are a lady filled with love and great wisdom. Your companions are fortunate to be graced by your guidance. I find you worthy of the Eyre.”

  Trellia nodded politely. “Thank you, Lady Lor.”

  Lor mover to her right, addressing Aria.

  “Aria Evanti, Princess of Thornwood, wife of none. You are your mother’s daughter, in all ways, and as she is cherished by my people, so are you. Do not doubt your gifts, nor your own heart. Your strength will come. I find you worthy of the Eyre.”

  Aria wiped away a tear and nodded. “Thank you, Lady Lor. You and your people are dear to me as well.”

  Lor nodded. “This I do know.” She stopped briefly before Mikallis, who stood to Aria’s left, but passed both him and Lucan before turning to face J’arn.

  “J’arn Silverstone, Firstson of Belgorne, husband of none.” Lor placed a hand on his shoulder. “I cannot offer you words of comfort, for I know none would suffice. But know that I share your sorrow, as do all my people. You are a dwarf of great courage and honor, worthy of the Sovereign, and should your path return you to your people, you will make a fine king. I find you worthy of the Eyre.”

  J’arn clasped the Lady’s hand. The two shared a brief look. “I thank ye, Lady.”

  Lor then turned to Shyla and knelt before her.

  “Shyla Greykin, wife of none, mother to Wolf,” she said gently. “If all the world shared your love of life, there would be no sorrow in Tahr. You are most beloved to me, and I find you worthy of the Eyre.”

  Shyla threw her arms around Lady Lor’s neck and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I love yeh, too, Lady. And all yer people. Truly I do.”

  Lor smiled and took Shyla’s hands. “Especially Pado and Neela, I would wager.”

  “Yup!” Shyla said gayly. “’Specially!” Pado and Neela giggled together from somewhere behind Shyla. Lor stood.

  “And that brings us to you, Wolf!” she said, reaching to scratch the great animal behind the ears. Wolf’s tail swished from side to side. “You are a brave boy, Wolf, and I know you will defend your friends to the end. The lands of the Eyre are forever your home, great beast.”