What Enchantment Hides - Book 1

Chapter 4

         Calya looked straight ahead, at the landscape between her horse’s ears, thinking over everything they had been told and the journey they had been sent on. Her expression was grim and her eyes showed a grave uncertainty. Kikarii rode beside her quietly, the weight of their charge heavy upon both of them. The prophet said she could not do this alone, but that he could not go with her. Kikarii spent a significant amount of time training with a sword, but he felt desperately inadequate to accompany the rightful queen back to her land. The day passed completely uneventful and they stopped at nightfall to get rest.

         They started out again early the next morning. Kikarii apparently knew of a city where they could stop for supplies. They turned their faces forward to enjoy the cloudless sky. The sun shone like a god of dripping gold, whose droplets could warm the whole globe. The breeze played with Calya’s hair and blew the grass around the hooves of their steeds. Had they been in a village, there would have needed only to be tots playing in the doorways of the houses for it to be perfect. Calya turned her bright eyes to the skies to watch red and green and yellow birds flit from tree to tree as if in a game of tag. She had seen many kids play that game in the streets in Dorsha, but was never given leave to join. She laughed to herself. As if the children of Dorsha would have allowed me to join in.

         Kikarii was in his own mind, wondering if Ariah had given up on him, or if she even still remembered him. He toyed with the idea that she might still think about it. Either way, I do not know for certain, so I mustn’t focus on it. He turned his attention to the road ahead. “Are you ready for a gallop, milady?”

         She seemed to trip over herself mentally. “Hmm?”

         “A gallop.”

         “Oh yes. Definitely.”

         They kicked their horses into a race, and listened as the hooves pounded into the earth beneath them.

         The next day was dreary. Clouds had come in from the waters in the far east, and rain seemed inevitable. They began their journey again as quickly as they were able after breakfast. Eventually the rain did come, and it soaked them to the bone. The next day was more of the same, which meant no fire for two nights. It came in sheets. Cold, freezing sheets. The wind howled with such force that it blew the droplets into their faces like stinging darts. Sometime in the middle of the night, however, the rain subsided, the sky cleared and the creatures came back out of hiding in the fields. The fifth day of their trek proved to be much more enjoyable. The sun shone again as if it had never left the sky for a moment. The birds were singing as if they had never stopped, and they even came across some wild turkeys. At midday, a large stag crossed their path, and soon after, they found hunters heading in the direction the great animal bounded away in. By the time they reached the city, they were nearly dry.

         When they entered through the gates, the sentries welcomed them to Gildad. They walked their horses through the stone streets. The houses all seemed grand – from the lowest peasant to the highest official. They were made of red stone, blending in with the clay streets. And they were large. The houses near the city square had pillars in the front and large doorways; big enough for a giant to pass through. Children were playing in the streets while their mothers sold their husband’s vegetables and game in the markets. Other women sold their patchwork and linens, and still others sold jewelry and mirrors. Toddlers sat, playing under the market tables with their mothers standing above, bargaining for high prices against the customers that bargained for low ones. In the square, men were out and about in greater numbers. Some sat on the rim of the great fountain whittling wooden figures. Taking a more focused look showed the figures to be one of the deities of their city. The fountain the man sat on was at least five yards tall, maybe even six. The stone was carved in the image of a dragon, saddled and mounted by a woman in a flowing dress much longer than she was tall. The winged serpent was climbing out of what was made to look like a pit, but was the base of the fountain. The woman’s long dress flowed down, over the dragon’s side and haunches and into the fountain spreading out under the water where it was overlaid with gold. The woman looked up to the sky instead of ahead, as if she anticipated something that might drop down to meet her. On her head sat a halo of flowers and leaves and in her hands she held reins that looked like chain links to keep control of her lethal mount. The dragon was large and long. His jaws were gaping with razor sharp teeth, two in the front being incredibly large fangs. Its tongue was partially sticking out of the beast’s mouth, not sickly, but like it was about to attack or breathe fire. The front claws were curled around the rim of the fountain, gripping it as if it were pulling itself out from its depths. The beast’s hind legs were bent, almost as if it was sitting on its haunches waiting for the signal to leap out and devour the people of the city. The stone itself was carved marble, the eyes overlaid with gold just like the rider’s dress that filled the large basin.

         Calya looked away as the horses plodded along. There were men making pottery, musicians, servants and soldiers. Some were singing, others were reading, still others were sparring with an entourage of onlookers cheering, betting and being all over rowdy. The two travelers looked around for an inn. They asked a man standing against a pillar of one of the enormous houses. He pointed and told them to continue a bit further and they would see it just past the edge of the square. Kikarii thanked him and urged his horse forward. They came to it and dismounted. A stable hand came out and asked if they wanted to board their horses for the night while they stayed at the inn. Kikarii nodded and dismounted, handing him the reins. Calya did likewise. The elf put his hand on the small of her back as a signal to other men that she was not for their pleasure. They entered. The sign hanging on the side of the building said Titan’s Perch, and the inside showed why. The decorations were dedicated to the gods of the city. It was almost like stepping into a shrine. A very rowdy, drunken and debauched shrine. Men at the bar chugged their ales while yelling obscenities to the ladies dancing in the middle of the floor. At the tables on the floor, men grabbed waitresses and put them on their laps, hoping to take some pleasure from them before they scurried away to serve another table. There was a table on the far side of the room in the corner. Kikarii could sit at the wall and see everything, including anyone who may try to approach.

         They made their way to the small table and sat down to rest on something other than hard ground or hard leather. Calya sighed deeply, glad to be indoors for the first time in days. A waitress came over to their table and asked what they would like. Kikarii ordered a coffee for the two of them and let her go. The young woman walked by a table with a large, burly man. His hair was dark and unkempt, his arms muscled and his eyes hungry. He grabbed the waitresses wrist as she walked by and pulled her onto his lap. She giggled and squirmed off his lap to continue on her way to the bar. It was rowdy here. Kikarii wanted to finish their drinks and go to a room to get away from the crowd. The girl came back and set the two mugs down. He thanked her and took a sip. It wasn’t the best coffee he’d had, but it also wasn’t the absolute worst. A hulking shadow landed just behind Calya. It belonged to the massive man. He was holding onto the waitress again with no regard, or maybe too much regard, for where he placed his hands. He looked down at the young woman at the table and licked his nasty lips. He shoved the waitress toward the counter, no longer interested in her. He approached their table and stood over the princess.

         Kikarii stood up with his hand on the hilt of his sword threateningly. “Back away before things get messy,” he said, sounding much more confident than he felt. In fact he was impressed at the boldness of his own bluff and desperately hoped that it would be enough. The man looked back at the rest of the tavern and let out an obnoxious, bellowing laugh. The princess took the opportunity to scurry closer to Kikarii. But the large man was fast. He swung back around and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back into him and backing further from Kikarii. The elf moved forward to engage, but a number of other giant men stood and drew their swords. He looked helplessly on as the bearded man dragged Calya across the floor by her wrists as she fought to get out of his iron grip. His mind raced through possible options as she screamed for help and screamed his name. And then things changed. Suddenly Calya’s orange eyes seemed to light up with red flame that overtook her natural orange until her irises were only a deep blood color. Only Kikarii saw the instantaneous change in her eyes. He swallowed and then all hell seemed to break loose.

         Lacerations and boils appeared on the large man’s arms and neck and covered his face. Blood seeped out mingled with pus. He screamed in pain and terror, releasing his hold on the young woman. She stood and faced him. “You ever touch me again…” her voice faded as he fell to his knees, begging for her to stop and take them away. He squirmed in intense pain calling for help, similar to how Calya had been screaming moments before. “How does it feel to beg for help and be ignored by a room full of people?” Her voice was high, hardly coming out how she wanted it to.

         “Please! Please help me!” He cried out again desperately. No one moved and no one made a sound aside from his pleading.

         Calya turned and walked to the bar counter. “We need a room. Now.” The bartender anxiously fumbled to get her a room key. The man who was screaming on the floor began checking his skin and quieted down as he saw that his wounds were closed up and healed. Only the blood smears on his clothing and the floor showed any sign of what had afflicted him not even a minute prior. She grabbed the key and walked back toward Kikarii. He tried to hide his horror at the scene that just played out before him. What was she? He followed her down the hall to the correct room. She opened it with the key and lit the lantern on the wall.There were three old beds, a mirror on the wall opposite two of them, a sink, and a set of shelves. Two other lanterns hung off the walls, and there was a small window on the far wall, opposite the door. Of course, there was no bathroom. Kikarii began to formulate a plan. He had to get away from her. And soon. He could get up later in the night and if she awoke and asked, he could use the bathroom at the end of the hall as a reason. He had seen it before he entered the bedroom.

         He claimed the bed nearest the door. He said something about keeping watch near the door and she didn’t argue. His plan was taking shape. The noise in the tavern quieted but continued throughout the night. It was good cover for his escape because it would block any noises that he may make on his way out.

         One hour passed, then two. He heard Calya’s breathing deepen and become slower and rhythmic. He waited another little bit before creeping out of bed, pulling on his boots, grabbing his cloak and slipping out of the door. Making his way down the hall toward the tavern, he scanned his surroundings. When he walked into the bar area, the noise quickly faded to silence. He nodded to the bartender before hurrying out the front door. Kikarii ran around the back of the inn to the stables. He found his horse and all his tack, saddled his steed and mounted before even leaving the stall. Leaning low over his mount’s neck, he dug in his heels and thundered out of the enclosure. He urged his horse faster, desperate to be rid of whatever that woman was as quickly as was possible. He did not slow his horse until he was beyond the city and in the fields outside of the wall. He slowed and swung his horse around. He looked back toward the buildings for a last moment before kicking his horse and taking off once again, across the dark landscape.

         The sun was beginning to set days later when Kikarii arrived at the prophet’s hovel on the outskirts of the village. The older man heard the pounding at his door and hurried to open it. Kikarii nearly fell through the opening.

         Cornelius stared dumbly at the boy. Words would not come. He assumed the worst.

         “Crazy,” Kikarii gasped out.

         “What was?” The prophet managed.

         “Not was, old man, is. That girl you sent me out with!” Kikarii pointed in the direction from which he came.

         “She is not crazy.” He glared at Kikarii.

         “Oh no. She nearly killed people with her eyes!”

         “So you abandoned her?”

         “Of course! I am not going to wait for her to kill me as well. I have a sword, but I am no warrior, especially not against sorcery.”

         “I see. I think you need to sit down and listen.”

         The old prophet pulled a stool up and then sat on the bed in front of the boy. He grabbed a sketch and held it up. Kikarii glanced at it, and looked at the man impatiently, as if telling him to quit wasting his time.

         “This was her great grandfather,” Cornelius finally said. “He was given a gift, through me, with the ability to heal the sick. It was a family blessing…” he hesitated, “well, for those who know how to harness it.”

         “Okay?”

         “Be patient, boy.” His deep set eyes looked right through him, as if judging whether he was worthy of hearing the rest of the story. When he seemed satisfied, he continued. “Every member and child born to the royal family had the gift. However, without the knowledge of the gift or the skills needed to harness such an ability, it can be misused. Like you saw, she can inflict people when or if afraid for her life, which I assume was the case. Or something similar.”

         “Oh, well that’s just great. So what do you expect me to do? I suppose you want me to go back and find her again, yes?”

         Cornelius waited.

         “Well no. I will not. I will not wait for her to turn on me next.”

         "Are you that timid that you will not help the heir to the throne of Kezna, the balance of the entire Highlands and the only one who can save thousands of people from needless death?” Cornelius looked at him sternly.

         Kikarii sat, brooding, not wanting to admit that Cornius was right. He had acted irrationally by fleeing. He was a warrior, a soldier whether he felt like one or not. He swallowed and put his face in his hands before dragging them both down and off the bottom of his chin in aggravation.

         "Are you done feeling bad for yourself?" Cornelius asked a moment later. The elf glared at him, annoyed, but remained silent. " If you are interested to know, she is going the wrong way and is heading back south east of here."

         “But that will lead her to the Mordin Marshes.”

         The other nodded. “Then I suggest you intercept her.”

         Cornelius gave him saddlebags of food and supplies as quickly as he could and sent him off. The elf whispered to his horse and thundered over the dusky landscape. It was not safe to travel at night. There were wolves to the south, but they did not scare him tonight. The only thing that bothered Kikarii was the thought that Calya could very well get to the marshes ahead of him and he would never find her again. A few miles from Cornelius’ hovel, he slowed, giving his horse a chance to prepare for the race he was to run come dawn. His ears pricked at the sound of howls in the distance. He prayed that he would see no wolves. His thoughts howled louder than the wolves, however; thoughts of his failure, and thoughts of her death. The moon shone through cracks in the clouds, and all around him night bugs made noises, and the night birds cawed their warning. Fireflies lit up and darkened in the air surrounding him.

         “Leave it to her to go the wrong way, just so I would have to go after her,” he muttered under his breath. He looked up at the clouded sky and sighed. “It’s not like she could have remembered to not go out the way we had gone in!” he yelled at the sky. A gentle breeze blew past him, and he closed his eyes. His freedom was short-lived. He heard more howls, closer this time. He trekked carefully, being ever watchful as he proceeded. There were few trees this far south, which meant little protection. He would not be sleeping much. Might as well get some while I still can. He dismounted and gave his horse a rest as he lay out a thin blanket under the clouds and lay down himself. Within moments his eyes closed, and he was sleeping deeply. Dreams came in color against a dark gray backdrop.

         Calya rode in front of him by about a quarter of a mile, toward the marshes. He knew she wouldn’t hear his scream for her to stop this far off. He urged his horse faster, but it was no use. He could never catch up with her at this distance. He watched her enter as he was helpless to save her. His horse began to slow, its energy exhausted. He patted the steed’s neck, and walked toward where the girl had ridden in. Five minutes passed like five hours. He finally reached the entrance to the marsh, and stopped, looking through the mist. He saw nothing. He dismounted, and led the stallion through the muck. He tried to keep everything in check as he moved. Kikarii saw a shadow before him, and heard a noise. He whispered to his horse, and let go of the reins. Slowly he inched forward. As he came closer, he saw a reviler hunching over something. That something was Calya’s horse, and the noise was the tearing of its flesh. The water moved to his left, and he hunched down. Another reviler crawled from the water and grabbed hold of something, dragging it back into the water with itself. He peered through the mist and saw the body of his charge. He screamed and stumbled backward. The reviler before him turned from the horse, and leaped at him, both sets of teeth parted for the kill.

         Kikarii jumped from the wet ground, his sweat-drenched tunic sticking to him. He had his sword in his hand, and he looked around desperately. Finally he got his bearings and lowered his sword. “This land is cursed.”

         He ate something small before setting out again. Dawn came quickly, and without the wolves to worry about, the day passed rather uneventfully. He galloped as much as the horse could handle, taking breaks few and far between. At midnight, he stopped again to rest, but he would get no sleep tonight.

         Before dawn, he set out again. He galloped until midmorning, when he saw the marshes. He slowed to a walk, and looked around. In the distance, he saw another rider heading right toward the accursed bog. He whispered to his steed and the horse jumped into a racing gallop. Mist hung over the entire landscape. But it was a light mist, and his elf eyes could still see quite a distance. The sun hung dully above him, unable to penetrate through the clouds, its warmth canceled out by the fog, and the chill of the place itself. Calya was further than in his dream, and as it was, he would not catch her before she entered the marsh. He dug his heels in and whispered again to his horse, but the animal could go no faster. Soon, the stallion slowed to a trot, and then a walk. He cried bitterly inside, unable to rid his mind of the dream. He watched her disappear into the fog of the swamp, and shouted to his horse in Elvish. It bucked in response, thoroughly exhausted.

         It was a good while before he reached the entrance to the marshes. Before he went in, he looked up and saw the sun hanging at midday. He went forward. The sound of birds and insects had gone silent about five minutes prior. A thick fog hung about him, and the chill went straight through to his bones. He dismounted and, taking what food he could hold in his sack, sent his horse off toward home, knowing that he could not defend two horses when he found Calya. He walked through the mist, the sound of creatures he had only heard about in stories vying for his attention from all around. The muck sucked at the bottom of his boots, hoping to pull him into the water’s depths where he would be the feast for a thousand revilers. It looked like dusk, but he knew it was just past noon. He could hear the mud pulling at him, making a plunger noise as he walked. His hope of stealth quickly diminished. His leg muscles strained against the pulling at his feet. He had his sword held at the ready as he continued his way along the wet path. He was careful not to step into the water, careful not to prematurely wake the demonic creatures in the profundity. Eventually he sheathed his sword again, and kept going forward. The mist darkened, and he was unable to see his path. He walked a bit further, and then stopped at a somewhat dry area. He ate a bite of dried bread, and pulled his cloak about himself. The sun set and he heard screeches come from the surrounding marsh. The noise was like that of a little girl screaming out in stark terror. Then he heard a new sound. – a whinny and the scream of a young woman. He rose and, drawing his weapon, charged through the mist until he saw black shapes.

         He heard the little girl scream again, and he spoke into what seemed like nothingness. “Calya.” No answer. His dream came back to haunt him. He only saw one black shape now, and it was a horse. If the revilers had found her, the horse would be dead now, too. He worked his way up to the animal, stroking its rump, making his way to its face. On the ground was Calya, unconscious. He looked up ahead, and saw the most terrifying marsh bird. He could not remember what it was called, but it had the legs of a spider, and the wings of a bat. It was grotesque, and had probably been the thing that had frightened Calya. It cried out, its call like the loud sound of a man gurgling in his throat moments before death. He tried to shoo it away, and when it refused to move, he killed it. Its blood was a sickening green, but thankfully it died without a noise. Kikarii picked up the girl and, placing her over the horse’s saddle, led the horse back the way he had come. He let Calya down off its back when he arrived at the dry spot, and settled her down under the marsh bush. He looked around. He knew from which way he had just come, but he had no idea which way he had entered from. He cursed himself before tying the horse to the bush and sitting down.

         He tapped Calya’s cheek gently to wake her up. She moved, groaned, and opened her eyes slowly. She looked around, and then focused on his face. “Kikarii?”

         “Hey.”

         She pushed herself to a sitting position. “How did you find me?”

         “Eh. The prophet helped some.”

         “Well now you know all about me,” she said bitterly.

         “Yeah, I do.”

         “Why’d you come back for me?”

         “Well for starters, you’re headed in the opposite direction of your kingdom. The complete opposite.”

         “Ugh.” She threw her head down into her hands.

         “And secondly, I was trying to intercept you before you got here.”

         “Did you see that… that… thing back there?”

         “Yes I did. But it’s not there anymore.” He looked at her and shook his head. “Okay, it is there. But have no fear. It is incapable of coming after you.”

         Calya cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

         “I have vanquished it.”

         “And should I be proud of you?”

         “No, you have no need to be. And while you’re at it, you can hate me. And while you’re at that, let me find my way out of here and leave you to find your own way back to Kezna, because it is not my fault you came in here.”

         He began to rise, but she put her hand on his arm. “Look, I’m sorry. Thank you.” Then she hesitated. “You said find your way out of here instead of just ride out of here.” Her grip on his arm tightened as the fear came into her eyes. “You do know your way out, right?” When he said nothing she persisted. “Right, Kikarii?”

         “No. I do not. I lost my bearings when I heard you scream and went to find you.” He settled down next to her. It was then that another little girl screamed. Calya shut her eyes tightly and gulped. Kikarii drew his sword and looked around. “You try to sleep; I’ll stay up and keep watch.”

         “I will get no sleep here.”

         “Well it will do neither of us any good for both of us to lose out on sleep, so I need you to at least try.”

         Calya lay down on her cloak and closed her eyes. A child’s scream pierced through her head, and she bolted upright. “It’s useless, Kikarii. I will get no sleep.”

         He sighed and looked into the fog. “Then keep watch behind me. I don’t want anything creeping up on us; catching us unaware.”

         They sat through the night, both barely daring to even blink. Even so, Calya’s mind began to wander, thinking about what her parents, the king and queen of Kezna may have been like. Was her father kind or cruel? Was her mother level-headed or self righteous? She assumed they were good people because it was very well known that the royal family had been adored by their people for generations and the same held true for her parents. Would she do them justice? Could she? It was strange to think of having parents. Yes, it was a fact that every person had parents at one point in their life and that only ceased to be when they died, like in her case. However, Where she had been an infant when she arrived at the temple, she had no concept of having parents. It seemed foreign for her while being completely normal for everyone else.The thoughts spun around in her head for hours as she sat, staring into the gloom, waiting for something unexpected to appear. Nothing ever did. Eventually the little girl ceased her screaming, and the sun lightened the marshes just enough for one to notice it was day. Of course, they could not see the sun. They could only see the tinting of the fog. They traveled through the day, coming across marsh birds and small rodents that could not be described in known terms.

         It was just beginning to become dark when they found another dry place. “We’ll stop for the night here.”

         Calya shivered, but made no complaint. They were soaked through, and she regretted ever taking the course she did after leaving Gildad. She sat and thought of Kezna and how beautiful it must be; its spires and buildings, whitewashed and shining in the sun. She thought of the banners waving in the strong wind that would carry her there. She imagined the sentinels blowing their horns to welcome her home. She could almost hear her horse’s hooves resounding off the white, cobblestone streets, and the equally stunning dark stone structure that would serve as home to her till her death. She thought of – the scream of the little girl cut into her thoughts. Revilers were closer now than last night. “Kikarii.” She was hardly whispering.

         “I heard it.”

         “I was not asking whether you heard it or not, but whether you heard how loud it was.”

         “Your point?” His frustration was evident.

         “I think we’ve moved further into the marsh.”

         “We couldn’t have. I…” His voice faded. The realization that she could be right suddenly hit him. “I tried to mark where the sun came up, but I guess I was mistaken. We need to move… now.” More screams sounded, seeming to echo to one side of the travelers. “Look, we’ll take this path, and we’ll follow it. We won’t stop until we’re out.”

         “Okay.” She mouthed the word to him.

         “Get on your horse. I’ll lead you.”

         Calya did as he told her, and she held her breath as they proceeded slowly from the dry patch they had found. They traveled without incident until the horse suddenly came to a stop. Calya heard the gurgled holler of a man, and looked forward, catching her breath again. A marsh bird sat on a branch before them. The yell came again, and she shut her eyes and shook her head in fear. She heard the ring of a blade, and all was silent. She peeked from one eye, and saw nothing. She let out a shaky exhale and they continued.

         A little girl screamed just in front of them. Kikarii peered through the mist, and heard water moving. He spoke in Elvish, and covered the girl and her horse in elven magic to shield them from sight. He put the reins over the steed’s head and handed them to Calya. Taking a step forward, he saw the reviler. Another scream and one more came out of the water to join the first. They faced away from him, their black hide dripping with marsh water and their arms dragging. They had skin, but it was dappled; all black, but you could see small circles on the pelt. They had short hairs covering their bodies, only noticeable because of the water droplets still clinging to them. Kikarii saw a ridge on their heads lined in blue. When they moved, he could hear scraping, like metal on wood. The first one screamed again, the noise deafening. It spun around to face the elf. Its blue eyes beamed in the darkness, piercing through both flesh and bone. It had tentacles hanging from what seemed to be its chin. It reached out its arms to grab at him. He cut down one with his sword, but was grasped by the other. Another scream broke from its throat. Both sets of teeth opened, readying itself for a feast. The second screamed, and nearly jumped on the first, also wanting to take part in this meal. As the mouth of the first came closer, he stabbed forward with his sword, into its mouth, and out the back of its head into the other reviler’s gut. The first one dropped him. He hit the ground with a thud and a splash, but jumped readily to his feet. The second held its stomach with one hand, and grabbed at him with its other clawed, gnarled hand. He cut through it, and severed its head from the rest of its body.

         He found a path leading diagonally away from the spot, and closer to where they had come from. He spoke in Elvish revealing the girl and her horse. Calya’s eyes were filled with terror, and her face was white. She stared straight ahead as he led her. He heard a gurgled scream behind him, followed by Calya’s. He spun to see marsh birds swooping down at her. He could not reach them from the ground.

         “Calya!” She glanced at him. “Take this!” He threw her up a dirk. She flailed it, striking birds by sheer luck. A few fell, and the screams subsided as the rest took flight away from them. No doubt telling more revilers where to find us. Calya gave him back the dirk, but still said nothing. He pulled on the reins and the horse began forward again. Kikarii slipped, and one foot hit the water. He caught his breath and waited, his blade still in his hand. The moments dragged on like years, and nothing happened. Finally he moved on.

         He heard a crunch under his boot and looked down. A bone lay crushed under him. They lay scattered for the next twenty feet. Each time they were stepped on, a blood chilling snap could be heard.

         Calya managed to speak. “What is that noise?”

         Kikarii shook his head. “You’d rather not know.”

         “Tell me. Please.”

         “Bones. Something else must’ve wandered into these bogs before us… long before us.” He heard her gulp. The little girl screamed in the distance, but nothing was heard directly around them.

         Kikarii felt something slither over his boot. He looked down but saw only marsh weeds. He sighed and continued on. A few more steps forward and he felt it again. When he looked down for the second time, he caught the tail of something. Pain seared the back of his leg and he let go of the reins. He spun, but the biting feeling only worsened. He looked back, and saw a marsh snake. He reached down and ripped it off of his leg by its head, cutting it in half with the sword in his other hand.

         He grabbed the reins and resumed his trek, but faster now. He stumbled, his leg giving way. He struggled to rise, but the leg with the bite was near useless already. The sun was lighting the bog just enough to see a few feet ahead instead of mere inches.

         “Kikarii.”

         “What?” he replied curtly, gritting his teeth against the pain.

         “Let me help you onto the horse.”

         “You need protection,” he retorted.

         “You can hardly walk. We’ll move quicker if you are on the horse.”

         To her surprise, instead of arguing, he let her pull him up, and he lay over the mare’s neck like a wounded soldier. The path widened after a couple hours, and Calya kicked the horse to a canter. Soon the mist began to thin, and she could see green in the distance. She slowed her steed to give Kikarii a break. Water moved to her right and a little behind, and a little girl screamed. The horse reared onto its hind legs, and with Kikarii’s weight added to her own, Calya fell back, and out of the saddle onto the wet path. Kikarii moaned, but he said nothing. The princess took hold of Kikarii’s shoulders and tried with all her strength to drag him. With his one good leg it made the task awkward and heavier than deadweight. So Calya grabbed at his sword, fighting to keep her fear at bay. The reviler dragged itself out of the water and toward her. She fought to handle the heavy blade as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, but her attempts fell short. She backed up to the horse, and looked down at Kikarii, terrified that she could only watch his death. Then she noticed the dirk at his waist. She dove for it, and stepped over his body. She held the blade in front of her, her arms shaky. The reviler screamed again and reached for her. Calya slashed at its arm, but she missed and the beast refused to halt its attack. Both gnarled hands grabbed her, the glowing blue eyes freezing her in her attempted escape. She gasped as both sets of teeth opened to finish her. The claws dug into her back and she could feel blood wetting her skin. She stabbed at the stomach, and orange blood seeped out, but it continued to draw her closer. It’s as if they don’t feel pain, she thought as she began to panic. The teeth were nearly at her face when she jammed the dirk down through its skull. The arms let go, but she persisted, pushing the hilt down further.

         “Die, you accursed helldweller!” Calya screamed as she slammed its head down on the wet ground. She stepped on its head and yanked out the blade. Suddenly she swooned and stepped back over Kikarii, catching herself on the horse’s rump. She wiped off the dirk on her cloak, and sheathed it in Kikarii’s belt, then proceeded to lift him, and push him up onto her steed’s back, to the front of the saddle. She clambered up behind him, and after making certain he was secure, kicked the mare into a gallop.

         They broke from the fog like the sun breaking from the darkness of clouds. Outside the marsh it was already dusk, and the last pink and golden rays of the sun were flaring into the cloudless sky before subsiding into night. Exhaustion hit and Calya slowed her steed, nearly falling from the saddle. She considered dismounting and setting up camp, but then the realization that Kikarii might very well not have much time left struck her like a sack of bricks. She kicked the horse, urging it into a gentle canter to be as careful with Kikarii as possible. A second burst of adrenaline poured into her veins as she suddenly understood that she was the only chance her companion had to survive. It was her lack of thought that had caused this entire situation. Why she went into the marsh was beyond her. Hindsight proved her to be a fool or worse. She rode on through the night for a couple hours, having to slow multiple times to give her steed a rest.

         A howl sounded in the distance to her left. It was answered by one to her right. She fought to keep calm. Nothing is worse than a reviler, she repeated to herself as she looked back over her shoulder. Nothing. She saw another horse coming up on her right, but without a rider. Fear overtook Calya as she realized that the small horse coming toward her was actually a kinnett wolf. She dug her heels in and yelled at her horse. It bolted the moment it heard the close howling. There has to be a settlement somewhere near the marshes. She tried to remember where the sun had set. She headed in that direction. She saw the peaks of mountains in the distance, their majestic cliff faces reflecting the moon’s ephemeral glow. The wolf was now behind her, sending up howls into the clear night. Stars winked at her from above as if mocking her predicament. She gritted her teeth, whispered to her horse, and rode on, giving her mare full use of its head. They thundered on, leaving the wolf in its wake quite a distance behind. More kinnett wolves joined in the pursuit. They raced over the grass, their howls all melding together. One by one they trailed off as the sky began to lighten. Calya’s steed eventually slowed to a shaky walk, and the girl looked back to see the last wolf stopped on a hill overlooking them. As the horse walked in a straight line toward the mountains, minutes passed like hours, and the hours passed like days, and all the while, Kikarii faded further and further from consciousness.

         The sun had just crested into a blue sky when Calya came upon a small village. Her mount was flecked with sweat and foam, its mouth foaming and its walk slow and uncertain. Children were playing on the outskirts, chasing hoops with sticks and kicking balls. She stopped at the first house and inquired about a healer. The woman gave directions to the middle of the small settlement and Calya followed them with little trouble.

         She dismounted in front of the shack, thoroughly unimpressed and so tired, she could hardly stand, feeling like she needed a healer herself. She knocked on the door, and it flung open. A little, stooped, old man with a mop of unkempt, white hair came out to greet her, using a cane to walk. She asked if he was the healer and he shook his little head, but beckoned her in. She pointed to Kikarii on the back of her horse and he hobbled over to take a closer look. His eyes became wide, wet orbs in his face that studied her companion with a deep concern. He clucked his tongue as a big, hulking man came out of the house. Without words, the little old man directed him to take Kikarii in. He used a lot of little gestures while walking beside the bigger man.

         Finally he turned back to the girl. “That is the healer,” he said in a strong but weary voice, as if the life of everyone in the village depended on him; maybe everyone in the east Lowlands. “He has no voice, and cannot hear but he is the most skilled healer you could find south of Ynhilay.” He smiled proudly.

         “Well, uh, thank you,” she replied, caught off guard by the fact that the healer could neither hear nor speak, and trying to sound sure and alert but coming across as neither.

         The old man looked her over and grabbed her hand. “He was bitten by a marsh snake, was he not?”

         “He was,” she replied, following him.

         “Well you just come in and make yourself at home. It’s bigger on the inside, just you see.” Calya entered and stopped, amazed at the size of the house. He answered her unspoken question. “Elven magic,” he said with an enormous grin, indicating his slightly pointed ears. “I see you too are half-elven.”

         “Uh, yes.” She was caught off guard again. That her mother was an elf was mentioned in a passing comment during the explanation of her bloodline from Cornelius, though she had no visible elven attributes. She also knew that elven magic alone could not make the house appear as it did. “How can you tell?”

         “The way you carry yourself. Yes.” He replied to himself. He saw her confusion and waved his hand as if warding off flies. “Oh no matter. Would you like some tea?” he asked, continuing as if she’d given him an answer. “Oh yes then, tea it is. Come here, my dear.” He directed her to a couch. “Your friend will be very well taken care of. Yes, very well indeed. Now, you just sit down while I get the tea. Something to take the edge off your trip would be nice, I suppose.” The old man went into the other room and began clanking around.

         When he returned to the couch with the tea, he found her curled up in the corner of the couch, asleep. He smiled and set the tea down on a table at the end of the couch by her head, and pulled a small blanket up over her. After taking a moment to make sure she was taken care of, he went out to put her horse in a stall behind the house.

         Kikarii could feel pain, but he could not move. He could hear, but he could not answer. He could hear Calya and a man speaking but a room away. Who was she with? His entire body was on fire; the flames licking at his very bones. It was not a normal sort of burning. It was the sort one would experience if they were in hell, he supposed. But he couldn’t be there, he reasoned. He tried to backtrack, but no memories presented themselves. What had happened to him? When did this nightmare begin? Something stabbed into his leg. He felt a cool sensation, and then burning again, and then nothing. Suddenly there was pressure – an overwhelming pressure in his chest. He was suffocating. He couldn’t breathe. Why did he need to breathe? His head swam. There were ducks… no cats… or were they pigs? Nothing made any sense. But then again, why did it have to? He argued with himself while the dragons – or were they carrots? – ran in circles all around him.

         The stooped, old man came into the room just past dusk and lit some candles when Calya awoke. “How long have I been sleeping?”

         “Less than a day. Yes, much less.” He moved across the room to take the cup from the end table. “I must say, though, that your tea is cold. That won’t do for you, miss. It just won’t do at all.”

         She put her hand on his arm. “It’s alright. Cold tea is better than none.”

         “Oh fiddlesticks! I won’t have it known that I served a guest cold tea!” He stomped a foot to emphasize his point.

         “Well, let us just say that you gave me hot tea, and I simply neglected it until it was cold.”

         “Oh no! I can’t say that! Goodness gracious, would you have me say that? No! That would be a lie!” He walked out of the room quickly, and returned just as quickly with a new cup. “There you are, my dear. A fresh, hot cup of tea.”

         She smiled, genuinely thankful. She stirred it slowly and looked around. There were some maps in frames on the wall. “What is that a map of?” she asked, pointing to one of them.

         “Oh that one is the only map of its kind, my dear.” He took it down with great care, stoking the wooden frame as if it were the head of a sick child. “It is a map of Ynhilay.”

         “But it is empty in the northwest part.”

         “That is because no one – not elf, dwarf, nor man – has ever been much past the border of the wood and come out again.”

         “But there are mountains drawn here.”

         “Well yes, of course there are mountains drawn there.” He put his hands on his hips and stared at her like she had just morphed into a turtle. A very stupid turtle. When he saw her confusion he sighed. “One can see the mountains before you ever enter the village. The Ynhilay mountains are the tallest mountains in the west Highlands. Are you saying you didn’t know that?”

         “Yes. Well, no. Uh… Yes?”

         He whistled. “Have you been in a box? All your life?”

         “Just about. I was bought from the priests of the temple of Misheth by an older man who set me free.”

         “So you were a fire dancer!” he exclaimed excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to know what it was like. And I suppose he was a bull dancer?” She nodded in affirmation. His face suddenly changed to a somewhat downcast expression. “What a sad life. The children forced into that have no knowledge of freedom. No knowledge of anything other than slavery and misery. Their lives seem meaningless.”

         “Our lives are meaningless.”

         “Oh but they aren’t! Or at least they don’t have to be. Oh no they don’t!” He became elated, his face turning bright pink. “There I go again, losing my audience.” He threw up his hands. “Now why would you want to listen to me? You wouldn’t!”

         She decided to humor him. At least it would pass the time. “Yes I would. Go on.”

         He clapped excitedly, and continued. He began reciting his thoughts on meaning and reason and all things that made one’s life important, including wisdom and logic. He was a very learned man and for all his elderly awkwardness, he was a fountain of information. Calya curled up on the couch, holding her tea with both hands, and decided to keep the older man entertained. They spoke for hours, her asking questions and the old man answering in his quirky, humorous fashion. The conversation moved from maps and history, to royal etiquette and military formations, to elven bloodlines and the ability to learn elven magic naturally as long as you had some sort of elven heritage. She thought about this and asked him if he knew any magic. He gave a slow, sad smile and shrugged his shoulders, refusing to answer in a way that gave her his answer.

         The giant man came in at dawn and waited quietly for the old man’s attention. Without needing to be told, the excitable old man turned around and made some gestures with his hands. The other man waved to him.

         “He wants us both to go in.”

         “How do you know both?”

         “Come.” She hesitated. “Yes, come on!” She followed them into the other room.

         Kikarii was sitting up watching them as they entered. His leg was bandaged and his wound was healing. He looked confused. “I’ve been asking the man where I am, but he keeps ignoring me.” He pointed to the old man. “Perhaps you can tell me?”

         “He does not speak. No. He cannot hear either. Not a thing. You are in Tant. It’s a marsh village at the base of the Mordin Mountains.” The old man replied.

         “How did I get here?”

         The old man smiled and nodded toward Calya. “I assume this young lady came past the kinnett wolves and rode all night until she came upon this village, in her sleep deprived state, and then laid you upon us.”

         “But…”

         “It’s true.” Calya interjected.

         “Well, you are more skilled than you thought.”

         The older man smiled at the two of them, and then pulled the giant out after him.

         “Are you okay?” Calya asked him, concern creasing her face.

         “Yes. I had the strangest dream, though.”

         “Well, we must get back to Cornelius and get you a horse.”

         “That would be a good idea. How did you get here?”

         “I rode through the night with you over the neck of the horse.”

         “You really did, eh? I thought the old man was just exaggerating.”

         “No, now let’s get you out of here.”

         She walked into the other room and he could hear a conversation taking place.

         “Yes, he is finished working on your friend.”

         “Can he leave?”

         “Yes, he can.”

         “Okay. How much do I owe you?”

         “You do not owe us a thing, miss. Your kind company was rewarding enough.”

         “Take this.”

         “But that is a lot. Yes! Too much!”

         “It was worth it.”

         “Why thank you!”

         She walked back in. “We’re leaving.”

         “You had me ready when you walked into the room the first time.”

         The old man walked the horse around front and handed off the reins to Kikarii. He mounted up, and held out his hand. Calya grabbed hold, and he pulled her up behind him. “What is your name?” he asked.

         “My name is Habbi. And the big one I call Ven.”

         Kikarii thanked the old man, and urged the horse into a trot.

         They left the small clustering of buildings behind, and set out over the grassy landscape. The sun shone brightly in the sky as thin wisps of clouds glided by. The birds sang, and dragonflies flew around in every direction. The horrors of the past week seemed like a distant dream. Kikarii hummed and Calya thought about her conversation with the little old elf. When they stopped that night, they found a little stream in a gathering of trees that ended in a small pool of water. They let the horse drink from the pool as they set up camp. Kikarii started a fire and settled down..

         They galloped much of the next day. And just as the day before, this day was glorious. By nightfall, they came upon the prophet’s shack.

         He ran out at the sound of hooves. “You’re alive!”

         They slid to a halt in front of him and Calya pushed herself off, letting Kikarii swing his good leg up and over the back of the horse. “We are,” he replied.

         The prophet caught sight of the bandages on his leg and furrowed his brow in concern. “What happened to your leg?”

         Kikarii looked at Calya and smiled. “A marsh snake. But Calya rode out of the marsh and through the night to get me to Tant in time.”

         “A marsh snake? Those are only near the mountains! You went…” He stopped himself and then replied to the rest of what Kikarii had said. “What? Tant? Habbi lives there. He must’ve been the one to take you in if you’re still alive.” He laughed. “Well come on in. Your horse made it home safe. Of course, that is why I assumed the worst. Come, tell me everything.”

         They talked over everything that had happened. Calya continued trying to exaggerate her defeat of the reviler while being corrected by Kikarii on and off throughout the conversation. Cornelius chuckled at the sudden companionship he saw growing between the two and it warmed him. They had been forced together by necessity and Kikarii had wanted nothing more than to leave her on her own after being faced with the explicit misuse of her blessing. But he was coming around and it seemed they had begun to rely on one another in a sibling-like way that gave him a newfound hope for the success of their endeavor. Even so, the reality that she had killed a marsh creature on her own with nothing more than a dirk astounded him.

         “You killed a reviler?” Cornelius’ old eyes widened, showing his obvious surprise.

         “Well you did not think it odd when Kikarii said that he killed one.”

         “Well no, but you killed one with a dirk, not a sword. You must have been within inches of its teeth.”

         “Yes. Now that I think of it, it must have been pure adrenaline. Nothing else could have given me the strength… or anger.” She smiled dully.

         “Well you two are exhausted. Sleep. I will get you another pair of breeches, Kikarii. And you, my dear, will also rest along with him for a few days until I say you two can resume your journey.

         Calya opened her eyes the next morning and grimaced. Pain wracked her upper body. It was then that she remembered the claw marks on her back. She sighed, and slowly began to sit up. She yelled in pain. A moment later Kikarii rushed into the room, falling to his knees by the mat.

         “What’s wrong?”

         Calya forced herself into a sitting position. “I’m okay.”

         “That did not sound like you are okay.”

         “Kikarii, I’m fine.” She started getting to her feet when he put his hand on her back to steady her. She screamed and sat back down.

         He took his hand away and saw the tattered cloth of her tunic. “You’re hurt.”

         “Yes,” she said, sweating.

         “Stay here. I’ll ride for Cornelius.”

         “Where would I go?”

         He glared at her as he ran out to the stable. A moment later, she heard him ride toward the village.

         Kikarii ran through the market. He found the prophet picking up dried bread. “Cornelius!”

         He turned, surprised. “Kikarii?”

         “She’s hurt.”

         He paid for the bread, put it in his satchel, and headed back toward the horses. “Tell me everything.”

         “I haven’t the slightest idea what happened. She seemed to be well last night when we parted for the night.”

         “What did she say happened before she stabbed the reviler?”

         “She was grabbed by it?”

         “Where was she hurt?” Cornelius’ concerned expression worried the elf.

         “Her back.”

         “She needs to go back to Habbi.”

         Calya was standing, when the two horses galloped up to the house, unsteady on her feet, leaning heavily against the doorway. The men dismounted and headed inside.

         Cornelius was the first to speak. “You must leave now. I’ll give you some money, food, and a dirk. You must go back to Tant, to the healer.”

         “What?”

         “The claws of the reviler are poisonous. You must leave now.”

         Calya changed into riding garb from the royal house of Kezna. Her shirt laced up the back which would make it easier to treat her properly. Then they mounted their horses and departed.