by M. L. Forman
“Yes.”
Sindar nodded but remained silent for several minutes before speaking.
“I met your father once, many years ago. I did not get the chance to know him, but he was well-respected among us.”
“Among the elves, you mean,” Alex clarified.
“Oh, yes, among the elves, but that isn’t what I’m talking about. You see, the pendant is a symbol of the ancient order of Malgor.”
“The order of Malgor? What is that?”
“Basically the order is a collection of people who gather information. We keep records about people, places, cities—all kinds of things.”
“Why?” Alex asked. “What are the records used for?”
“From time to time we discover something important. I say discover, but it is more like making connections between points of information. When we do find something, we pass the information along to the people who need to know.”
“I don’t understand. What information? Who runs the order? Why was it set up in the first place?”
“I can tell you some things, but not everything,” said Sindar after a moment of thought. “For example, I can tell you that when I return home, I will report on this adventure and the fact that there appear to be more goblins in Norsland than there once were—including the presence of a goblin shaman. The order might decide that they need more information about goblins in Norsland, or they might just let the kingdoms of Norsland know that there are more goblins.”
“I see,” said Alex. “Still, who is in charge? Who decides what information is important? What else does the order of Malgor do?”
“So many questions,” said Sindar. “As for the who and the why, I don’t think I should say. Many people who belong to the order do not know who is in charge, and since you are not a member . . .”
“I’m sorry,” said Alex. “It’s just so interesting. Obviously my father was a member of this order, and he wanted me to trust any members that I might meet.”
“Yes, but I think your father may have overstated his desire. I would not be so quick to trust completely if I were you. You are a wizard after all, and blind trust does not go well with that title.”
“You don’t think I should trust the members of the order?”
“I think you should use your own judgment,” said Sindar. “Now, I think you should take a bath and get ready for the feast. It should be a merry night.”
Sindar said nothing more about the order of Malgor, and Alex didn’t press him for answers. He knew enough for now, and he promised himself that someday he would know more.
The brownies were thrilled that Alex and Sindar were their guests and would squeal and giggle when either of them would thank them for their kindness. Alex tried hard to remember all the brownies’ names, but there were just too many of them, and the brownies all looked very much alike to him. Whenever he would call a brownie by the wrong name, the brownie would think he was making a wonderful joke, and then tell him its correct name. In the end, Alex stopped trying to sort it out.
The days passed swiftly, and the brownies never seemed to grow tired of Alex and Sindar asking them questions or thanking them. Often Alex would conjure up weir lights and send them floating around the village, changing colors from time to time as they went. The brownies seemed to enjoy the lights even more than Halfdan had, and it made Alex happy to hear them laugh in surprise whenever one of the lights changed colors.
After a week in the village, Alex sent Whalen a long message, telling him everything that had happened at the tower and how he and Sindar were now guests in the brownie village. Alex also spent a fair amount of time in his bag, sorting through the treasure he’d recovered from the tower. He was hoping to have the treasure sorted and divided before they started south once more, but that was going to take some work. A few weeks later, Whalen sent a reply to Alex’s message.
Dear Alex,
You have done better than I had hoped. I am impressed with the way you’ve handled things. I never would have thought to change the stone into a breeze. Very clever on your part, I must say.
I do have some ideas about what the shadow is, but it will take some explaining, which I would rather do in person. I hope to meet you on your return to Telous, or perhaps in Alusia. I believe Bregnest, once he is recovered, will insist that you all go with him to complete your adventure by returning the Horn.
I was sorry to hear about Sedric Valenteen, but, as you said, he made his choice. You did what had to be done, so don’t blame yourself for what happened.
Continue to study your books, and feel free to start looking through the upper library, which you now have in your bag. I don’t think you will need to update me quite so often, but feel free to write if you have questions. Also, I think you can judge for yourself when you should and should not use your powers, so don’t let my earlier warnings stop you from doing something you feel needs doing. Of course, don’t use your powers for just anything; use your common sense and you should be fine.
Yours in fellowship, Whalen
P.S. Just a reminder to honor your promise to Tip. I know you would never break your promise on purpose, but you may find it difficult to keep once your friends recover. Perhaps you and Sindar should agree on a story for your friends. You still have time to think of something before they wake up.
Whalen’s letter lifted Alex’s spirits, and that afternoon he started working on a story with Sindar. They decided, after some debate, that the simple truth would work best. No mention of the brownies would be made, but the fact that the two of them had been stuck in the woods would be enough.
“Our adventure climbing down the mountain will be far more interesting,” Sindar commented. “The fact that we spent a few weeks or even months in the woods, with nothing to do but wait, will not attract many questions.”
As the days passed, Alex continued to sort the treasure from the tower and search for the Horn of Moran. Other days, he would look through the large library or visit with the brownies.
Winter continued, and Alex and Sindar both watched the weather for any sign that they could safely move on. Sometimes Alex would wander to the edge of the enchanted woods and look out across the frozen waste, thinking about the future. He appreciated Usel’s warning about not being in the frozen waste when winter came. The snow was almost as deep as Alex was tall, and the wind blew wildly across the open land.
Alex used his time to study and practice his magic, and to just think. He even had time to reread some of his books and learn how to magically mend Halfdan’s cooking pot. It was an odd bit of magic, but after a little practice, Alex was able to make the pot as good as new. He was pleased with his work, and he knew Halfdan would be glad to have his pot back.
“You seem strangely quiet,” said Sindar, one night after another excellent feast with the brownies. “Are you troubled?”
“Not troubled. Just thoughtful.”
“More like a wizard all the time.”
“Or more like an elf,” Alex answered and laughed. “I was just thinking about something—something I’m not likely to find an answer to.”
“And why would you spend time thinking about things that have no answers?”
“Oh, there is an answer, I’m sure of that,” said Alex. “I’m just not likely to find it anytime soon.”
“Then I suppose thinking about it won’t hurt, as long as you are prepared to wait for your answers.”
“I can wait. I believe I am less hotheaded than I once was.”
“I believe that you are,” said Sindar.
It wasn’t until Alex had sorted almost all the treasure from the Tower of the Moon that he found the Horn of Moran. It was about eighteen inches long and perhaps eight or nine inches across at its widest point. It was made of a black material that Alex had never seen before, and the gentle curve made it look like a horn from some enormous animal. True silver bands had been wrapped around either end, and there were loops in the silver where a strap could be attached so the horn c
ould be carried. Alex showed the Horn to Sindar, who was stunned when he saw it.
“It’s been carved from a Durnlow horn,” Sindar whispered in awe.
“What’s a Durnlow?” Alex questioned.
“They are a rare and magical creature, something like a giant goat or perhaps more like a ram,” Sindar explained. “Stories say that they are even more magical than dragons, and that to see one means good fortune for the rest of your days. Their horns cannot be taken from them, but they can be given as gifts to those the Durnlow deems worthy.”
“It is one of the three guardian objects of Alusia,” said Alex. “It makes sense that it would be something as special as a Durnlow horn. I wonder what it sounds like. You know, when the true king blows it.”
“I would not try to sound the Horn if I were you,” said Sindar. “If it makes no sound, we will think it a great joke, but if it plays a note, then what?”
“It won’t play a note,” said Alex.
“You do not know that for sure. Would you risk adding king to your already long list of titles?”
In the end, Alex took Sindar’s advice and returned the Horn to his bag. He really didn’t think the Horn would sound for him, but he didn’t want to risk being called a king as well as a warrior, a wizard, and a dragon slayer.
Winter held an icy grip on the land, but as time went on, there was little new snow. Alex knew that they would soon be able to leave the enchanted woods and continue their adventure, even if the temperature remained cold. Alex would be sad to leave the brownies, but he was also looking forward to meeting Whalen in Telous.
One night, after another long feast, Tip came to their cottage. He was smiling, but even with his cheery face, he seemed sadder than Alex had ever seen him before.
“It is time,” said Tip. “Winter is not over, but I think you will be able to travel south without too much trouble. Tomorrow I will lead you to your friends, and you can continue your adventure.”
“We will be sorry to leave your village,” said Sindar. “You have been most kind to us and to our sleeping friends.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Tip laughed. “We seldom have guests, and such excellent guests at that.”
“Can we do anything to repay your kindness?” Alex asked.
“You can keep your promise, which I’m sure you will,” Tip answered. “And if you get the chance, you might come and visit us again.”
“Then we will hope for such a chance,” said Alex. “Though you will forgive us if we don’t bring such sleepy friends next time.”
“Oh, of course,” said Tip. “Now I’ll let you get some sleep, and tomorrow we will be on our way.”
Tip left Alex and Sindar alone, but they didn’t feel like talking. They had agreed on the story they would tell their friends and the answers they would give to any questions. They had asked each other about the story so many times that they both knew every detail by heart. They both hoped that the story would satisfy their three sleeping friends.
Alex went to bed, and as he was falling asleep, he heard Sindar humming softly to himself in the darkness.
Chapter Fourteen
Awakening
The next morning was full of mixed feelings for Alex and Sindar. The brownies made a great fuss over saying good-bye and wishing them good luck. None of the brownies would accept any kind of gift, laughing whenever Alex or Sindar offered. Alex thought it strange that the brownies would be so helpful and yet so unwilling to receive anything in return. He thought there was a good lesson in their ways, but he knew that few people would see it.
Tip led Alex and Sindar through the woods for most of the day, but there was little talk as they went along. Dozens of brownies accompanied them, and when the group stopped for the night, the brownies took care of setting up camp, and before long they were all sitting around the fire, eating.
After they had eaten, Sindar told a story about an adventure he had been on, but Alex wasn’t listening. His mind was already racing ahead, thinking of the dangers they might still have to face as they returned to Alusia. He had thought that finding the Horn would be the hardest part of the adventure, but now he worried that returning it to the rightful king might be harder still.
They continued walking all the next day, and as night was falling, they came to a large meadow. Alex and Sindar spotted their three friends lying in the soft grass at the edge of the meadow. They looked as if they were sound asleep, but otherwise quite normal.
“In the morning I will tell you how to wake them,” said Tip. “Then we will leave you, and you can wake your friends and go on your way.”
“Where is the road back across the frozen waste?” asked Sindar.
“If you leave this meadow at the far end, you will come across the road very soon,” Tip answered, pointing. “You might have trouble traveling through the frozen waste, but if you continue south, you will be safe enough.”
“You have been so kind to us, is there nothing we can do to repay you?” Alex asked once more.
“Oh, no,” said Tip in a serious tone. “You have already repaid us by letting us help you.”
“As you wish then,” said Alex with a bow.
“Now, come my friends,” said Tip. “One last feast before we part.”
Alex and Sindar followed Tip back to the campfire and the feast, leaving their friends to sleep. When they had finished feasting, Alex put on a bit of a show for his friends. He conjured several large weir lights and sent them rocketing into the night sky like fireworks. When the lights began to look like stars, he would have them burst into dozens of smaller lights that fell slowly, fading just before they touched the ground. The brownies were all delighted by Alex’s show and cheered and clapped well into the night.
“We will be tired in the morning if you don’t stop soon. Our friends have rested for months,” said Sindar. “If we do not rest, they may leave us behind on the frozen waste.”
Alex nodded, and sent one last light into the sky, which burst into a rain of gold and silver sparks as big as coins.
The next morning the brownies said their last good-byes to Alex and Sindar, still cheerful and as full of joy as always. When the last of the brownies disappeared into the woods, Tip turned to look at Alex and Sindar.
“Now, to wake your friends,” said Tip. “All that you need to do is sprinkle a little water on their faces, like a soft rain. They will wake up and remember everything up to the time they went to sleep on the mountain.”
“You have our thanks,” said Sindar, as he and Alex bowed to Tip.
Tip simply waved his hand at them, and then followed the other brownies into the woods, vanishing from sight.
Alex and Sindar took out some water and woke their friends from their long sleep.
“How did we get here?” Andy questioned, sitting up and looking around in confusion. “And where is Val?”
“What happened on the mountain?” Halfdan demanded, wiping his face.
“Did you find the Horn?” Bregnest asked in concern.
“We will explain everything,” said Sindar. “And yes, Alex has recovered the Horn of Moran.”
The story of how Alex and Sindar had gotten the company to the enchanted woods was a good one, but Halfdan continued to ask what they had been doing while stuck there. Bregnest was worried about how much time they had spent in the woods and kept asking how soon they would be able to move. It took some time for everything to be explained, and it was nearly midday before the entire story was told.
“So the evil was with Val?” Bregnest asked sadly.
“He carried it with him for a long time,” said Alex, choosing his words carefully. “He said something about having met the evil on his last adventure.”
“The fault is mine,” said Bregnest. “I asked him to join the company. It is my honor alone that will be touched by this.”
“Not so,” Sindar said. “You could not have known. The evil was well-hidden. Even I was fooled and blinded by it, and that is much harder to do than yo
u may think.”
“Still, the choice was mine,” said Bregnest. “I have lost at least part of my honor.”
“Sindar is correct,” said Alex. “The evil fooled us all. It is darker and more clever than you can believe. Even I, a wizard, did not see it until it was almost too late.”
Bregnest nodded, but said nothing.
“It has all turned out well,” said Halfdan. “The evil was defeated, the treasure recovered, and our goal accomplished.”
“To blame yourself for this is foolish,” added Andy.
“I was leader,” said Bregnest. “I chose Val, and I alone must take the blame.”
