 
  1. The Adventures  
of Sage Goliad

# By Lara Lee

Bite-Sized Exegesis · Texas · USA
Text copyright © 2019 Lara Lee

All Rights Reserved

Bite-Size Exegesis (2016-09-28).

The Adventures of Sage Goliad

Visit www.laraswanderings.wordpress.com

## Table of Contents

### Any Reputation will do

### The Devil Himself

### Sage and the Quest for Cake

### The Worst Hero Ever

### The Cerulean Stone Caper

### Drankenstien

## Gryphendale

Chapter 1 The Beginning

Dedicated to my husband, Dr. Kerry D. Lee Jr.

Thank you for the adventures and teaching me how to laugh.
Any Reputation Will Do

"If the jewels in the back side of the earth's crust could sparkle down on us any brighter, they would still pale to her inexhaustible beauty," said Sage, the sixteen-year-old Huldra.

He leaned against a pathetic gnarled tree, just taller than a bush, watching their small herd of four ugly goats. Sage's brown fox-like tail causally moved in a brushing motion in the red sand dreamily, and his eyes changed color from green to blue.

"She's the one. I know it," he told the old Dryad sitting at the doorway of the dark goat hair tent they called home.

The old man just grunted.

Sage put his hands behind his head full of overgrown dark brown hair. He was a strong, thin youth who had earned extra money by doing chores in the small stone town such as digging ditches, hauling rocks, hunting coyotes, or not bothering grumpy trades people. His academic education had ended when he fled from the palace of Vervain at eleven years old. His education since was how to survive by getting in and out of trouble. He watched the vast empty desert with the pleasure of one newly in love... again.

"I think the desert wind must pivot around her dainty figure," said Sage. " Or would it be better to say rotate? Or perhaps, pirouette? I know! Circumvolve!"

The old man grunted again.

Sage sighed and looked back out at the desert panorama from his home.

The Nomad Desert was named so because it was full of... well, Nomads. It was the place one went when one wasn't safe or wanted anywhere else. The red sandy wilderness was scattered with precarious rocky formations leaning and tilting in unnatural directions, tempting gravity to pull them down on someone's head at any moment. The gravelly ground was hard and unforgiving to most soft-footed animal life, including the bipedal kind. A few villages interrupted the naked desert in pure randomness, not regular enough to be found when you really needed them. Tufts of long silver grass scatted the otherwise monochrome desert landscape like a hairy old Dryad who never bothered to pluck his nose or ear hairs. It was a hard place to live. The outcroppings of rocks, caves, and canyons provided an excellent place for Trolls and thieves to congregate for their routine activities of terror. The sun could easily deep fry your skin without the loose Nomad trousers, tunic, and keffiyeh. The massive sandstorms, like the chaos of a black cat's fury, could kill a man without proper shelter, and the boring substance of water was always in short supply. Yet, the Nomad Desert was a safe place where one can hide from their enemies, at least if you consider your enemies worse than all of the above.

Sage and Toble were exiled in the desert for this very reason, to escape an enemy much worse than the desert, or so they believed. The odd pair had come to the Sprite Nomad village near a muddy spring about five years ago after fleeing for their lives. The races, even in the desert, lived among their own kind in anti-democratic fashion. The Nomads weren't a race of faerie, just like taco seasoning isn't a spice, but instead, a collection of the races from the nine countries of Gryphendale with a few odd races sprinkled in for good measure. Sage and Toble weren't welcomed among the Sprites, so they had bought a goat's hair tent and settled outside of town. Sage and Toble were also afraid to go among their kind. The Huldra owned the Dryads as slaves. Sage looked up to Toble as a father when his own parents had been murdered. The other reason they didn't want to go among their kind was that Sage's cousin, Turmeric, one of the most powerful people in the world, had killed Sage's parents. They hoped Turmeric had forgotten about Sage, and they didn't want the Huldra to remind him of their existence.

"You said that about Hazel last week. Cherry hates your guts," said Toble after a moment of silence. He didn't bother to look up from a wooden contraption with wings he was trying to fix. "I think it is unwise to set your heart on a girl who told you she would rather sleep with pigs than be in your presence. Besides, she's a Sprite. Her father would kill you if he thought you were interested in her."

Toble's wild white hair stuck out from his head as much as his long pointed ears. He furrowed his thick eyebrows under the layers of glass lenses that were mounted on a massive helmet with other lenses flipped up. The effect was that his eyes looked huge, and light reflected all over the place in strange beams. Toble picked up a metal pick from a long leather roll lined with oddly shaped metal objects so that he could adjust a tiny spring in his device. The disheveled old man was far different than the ambassador fighting for his people's freedom he had once been. Sage's father, the captain of the Queen's guard, had paid for Toble's freedom and had helped him in his efforts to stop Dryad slavery, but all of that was gone now. He was now just a Dryad tinkerer who sold odd toys in town to affluent travelers for more money than they were worth. His loyalty to Sage was the continuation of his gratitude to Sage's father.

"She just isn't used to me yet," said Sage as his eyes turned green from blue. "Master Kenworth is teaching me how to sword fight, and then she will be impressed. Once I woo her, then we will marry and..."

"More beautiful than Peony or Iris? Are you now calling that over-grown knife you have been carrying around a sword?" said Toble still trying to get his contraption to move properly when he pulled on a string. "No, wait. You thought Jessica was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen last week. I can't keep up with you."

"That was before her uncle tried to kill me, and they moved on to another town," said Sage. "Sprites are by far the most beautiful of the faerie races."

"And what about the Undine girl last month or the mixed blood before that. Then there was the human girl," said Toble still messing with his device. "Drat, I know a spring is loose in your head, my friend, and your nut is too loose."

Sage sat up wondering if Toble had said that last statement to him, but then he noticed that the wooden device he was working on was a model of a Sprite man. Sage leaned back without concern. He had a hard time finding the right girl, that was all. He was sure he finally found her, but then he started to think about the other girls he knew, and his conviction began to waver. They were each lovely in their way. As soon as they smiled at him, his heart turned to mush, along with his brain. He loved to make them laugh and to see their eyes sparkle. Nothing else mattered after that.

"Aha!" exclaimed Toble with satisfaction as his model of a Sprite with working moth wings finally started to flap its wings.

"I like girls," said Sage. "I see a damsel in distress, and I want to rescue them. Life out here is tough."

"We need to move on," said Toble trying to remove his helmet and then getting it stuck in his white messy hair. "Your brain is starting to rot. You don't rescue a person from carrying a cup of water or walk down a deserted street in the middle of the day."

Sage glanced at the old man as he reached for scissors to cut his hair out of the helmet.

"Blah!" said Sage. "I like it here."

"What about helping the other town's people?" said Toble in the process of butchering his hair. "You could be learning a trade rather than just sitting around watching the goats. Chasing girls doesn't earn you a living, you know, and it doesn't make life any easier for their worried parents."

"I haven't done anything to the girls," said Sage. "So, they like kissing me. I like it too. Why should their parents get so upset? So, what about the other townspeople? They can take care of themselves. Why do I need a trade? I am happy and fine."

Toble looked up at the young man with a serious expression, at least as serious as one can look with a helmet hanging from your hair.

"Sage, you will never return to your old life," said the old Dryad. "One day you will want to marry and settle down. How will you feed your family? How are you going to live? You need to start thinking about the future."

Sage sat up a bit stunned as Toble went back to cutting his hair.

"Think?" said Sage. "Like really work? I suppose the girls might want a real house to live in rather than a tent, but I'm not good at anything. I just do odd things to help people around the town. Sometimes they don't have more than an apple to pay me with. I can't make a trade out of that."

He looked out at the desert sand and the barren wildness. He had always thought this would be temporary, but temporary until what? He had nowhere else to go. He glanced back at the village of stone houses built to last generations. At first, Toble had been worried about being followed, but now they should be making plans. They were poor, and life was just moving on. They lived from day to day on what they could throw together.

It was as though Sage suddenly saw his life from a different perspective, and it shook him. It was the first time Toble had ever said they weren't ever going back. There was nothing to go back to. They just never talked about it much especially as Sage had been grieving his parents.

Was he supposed to do something with his life? He had never even thought about it since he left the palace. It was as though for years he couldn't think past today. He had lost his whole life, and there had not been a future except surviving one more day.

Suddenly, Sage sat up and glanced to the east. Riders in black were riding their horses towards them fast. Both Sage and Toble got to their feet as quickly as possible watching the oddity. It couldn't be official soldiers. Those weren't Huldra uniforms, and those weren't shod horses with expensive saddles, and those couldn't possibly be swords strapped to their sides. The light was playing with his eyes.

The Huldra men in black rode into the small village and stopped at the first Sprite man they saw. Sage recognized him as Tansy's father. He was a potter and was sitting in front of his house working on his wears. The lead rider dismounted and approached the Sprite.

"Where is Sage Goliad?" asked a Huldra man that Sage immediately recognized from his nightmares, Turmeric, his cousin. "A Sprite man in the village east of here said he tried to seduce his daughter."

Tansy's father smirked. The hair on the back of Sage's neck stood up.

"And everyone else's daughter too," said the potter and immediately pointed toward Toble and Sage.

Toble dropped his helmet cracking a lens.

"I didn't do anything!" said Sage.

"Run boy!" said Toble as he spread his arms out and transforming his arms into vines.

Sage turned and ran as hard as he could into the desert. Within moments, horses galloped up and were surrounding him. Sage was knocked over by a club and fell into the rocky sand. A soldier jumped on top of him and tied his arms behind his back with a rope. Sage tried to fight the man off, but the other soldiers dismounted and restrained him. Sage glanced back seeing Toble calling up plants and vines to fight Turmeric. The power of swinging greenery is nothing to the Huldra flame. Turmeric threw red fireballs burning all the plants, their tent, and what life they had built. Then Turmeric rushed Toble and punched him in the face. The old Dryad immediately crumpled under the blow. Turmeric continued punching. Toble was soon overwhelmed, the plants went limp, and the fight was over. Turmeric grabbed Toble's tunic and dragged him over to where Sage laid.

"Are you Sage?" asked Turmeric as a soldier began to tie Toble's arms behind his back. "I must assume that you are."

"You don't need my name, you have one of your own," said Sage still laying in the sand.

"You have your entire life to be a jerk. Why not take today off?" said Turmeric.

"I don't like procrastinating," said Sage.

"I have been searching for you for a long time," said Turmeric. "You have made quite a few enemies."

"Just the fathers of the nineteen girls I've dated," said Sage.

Turmeric blinked.

"Nineteen? How old are you?" asked Turmeric. "There aren't even nineteen girls in this godforsaken place."

"He finds them," grumbled Toble.

Sage glanced at Toble's bruised face and then looked away with guilt. He had been reckless, and it was coming back to get him. Then he smirked. It had been fun, though. He liked girls.

"Set-up camp," said Turmeric. "I have plans for my cousin."

***

A camp of ten white canvas tents was soon set up with one tall one in the middle. The goats from Toble and Sage's herd was slaughtered to roast over the fires for dinner. Sage watched all that happened from where he laid in the sand. He counted twenty Huldra soldiers in black uniforms. Five of the soldiers were women. One of the women, the youngest prettiest one, Sage watched with particular interest. He heard one of the soldiers call her Poppy. He smiled at her every time she looked in his direction. She noticed after a while and continued to glance back at him with curiosity.

"Are you going to flirt now?" whispered Toble.

"What else am I going to do?" whispered Sage.

"Think of a way out," whispered Toble.

"That's what I'm doing," whispered Sage.

Toble snorted and then started to cough on the sand he breathed in. The guard watching them raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Sage and Toble were left outside while the soldiers ate in front of their tent by the various fires. The smell of the food made Sage's stomach growl loudly. He looked up at the reddish sunset.

"Sandstorm is coming," whispered Sage.

Toble looked up as well.

"I don't think they would leave us out here unless they want us dead," said Toble.

"That's an idea," said Sage.

Toble glanced at him with a scowl, and Sage smirked at him.

"Sandstorm is coming," Sage shouted to the guard by them. "You might want your master to know his cargo might get damaged laying here."

The wind began to pick up, and the guard looked around. He stopped Poppy who was walking by.

"Tell Lord Turmeric that the young man predicts a sandstorm," said the older soldier.

Poppy saluted.

"Maybe he'll put me in your tent, beautiful," said Sage.

The female soldier looked down at Sage still laying in the red sand. Sage winked at her. She kicked his face with her leather riding boot. Sage screamed out with a bloody nose. She then marched off to the large canvas tent.

"Sage, you might want to rethink your life of chasing girls," said Toble. "You did deserve that."

"It's part of the plan," said Sage.

Toble rolled his eyes.

"I have never heard you be so rude to a girl," said Toble. "You used to have good manners. It's almost like you want to be killed."

Before Sage could respond, Poppy reappeared and motioned for them to come. Three soldiers gathered around Sage and Toble and hauled them to their feet. They walked into the tallest tent that barely had headroom. Inside, a rug, stolen from the village, was laid out with a feast on silver platters.

"Sandstorm, eh?" said Turmeric sitting cross-legged at a lavish meal next to another female soldier. "Sit cousin. Your slave can stay standing."

Sage's expression grew dark, and he remained standing. Toble was not his slave, and such a statement boiled Sage's blood. He may chase after girls, but he did care about people genuinely, especially Toble.

"That wasn't a request," said Turmeric.

A soldier kicked the back of Sage's knees causing him to fall into a kneeling position.

"That's better," said Turmeric ripping apart some flatbread. "I have a proposition for you. I think you have potential, and you are waisted exiled in this cow paddy on the backside of the civilized world. After all, you have my blood in your veins. I would like to train you as my apprentice in fire magic. You know I am a powerful man. I can give you anything you want or dream, money, power, fame, mansions, and more. The only thing I ask is for your unwavering loyalty."

Sage glanced around the tent. Five soldiers and Turmeric were crowded in there with Toble and Sage. The wheels of his underused brain creaked past its rusted static state and began moving in new ways. He had once been called clever before he had been obsessed with girls.

"Anything?" asked Sage.

He then glanced up at Poppy, the young female soldier he had been flirting with earlier. Her face turned as red as her hair, and the corner of Sage's mouth curled up. Turmeric's eyes followed Sage's gaze. He smirked.

"Ah, yes, you do have a thing for women," said Turmeric continuing to eat. "Yes, young cousin, I can give you anything."

Poppy stiffened as she glanced at Turmeric and back at Sage. Her expression grew dark. Sage had heard how this new government worked. People were just things that it used and threw away. Male and female soldiers were disposable, but people continued to join the army because it was better than starving to death.

"How soon do we begin?" asked Sage. "Do I get all the girls I want?"

Toble choked and gaged. Then he cried out.

"Sage! All for the sake of a girl!"

The old Dryad fought his bonds until a soldier kicked him into submission. He landed on his knees behind Sage. It was hard for Sage to keep his gaze on Turmeric. He cared about Toble, but this was important. Outwardly, Sage's expression was hard, and he didn't look back. Instead, he waited for Turmeric's answer.

"Wonderful," said Turmeric as the wind picked up and howled outside. "Yes, yes. You can have as many girls as you want. It's good for dark magic anyway."

"But I want her now," said Sage. "Right here, right now. I am sure she really wants it too. She has been drooling over me the whole time I had been outside. It was a good thing you had a guard because she might have..."

The young female soldier turned even redder, pulled out her dagger, and leaped towards Sage. Turmeric looked up startled.

Sage sprung to his feet. He twisted his arms over his head with a popping sound in his shoulders of a double jointed acrobat. His hands came down in time to catch Poppy's dagger aimed for his gut in the ropes around his hands.

His hand began to bleed, but he twisted the rope with a jerk pulling the dagger from the soldier's hand. In the process, the knife cut his rope loose. Everyone in the tent stood stunned for a moment. As Sage turned to Toble and sliced through his rope tied hands, everyone leaped towards him. Sage could feel hands grabbing at him. He pulled Poppy with him as he fell to the ground. He pushed Toble back, so the old man fell almost out of the tent. Then Sage pulled down all the other soldiers around him until everyone was in a huge dog pile of fight wiggling bodies. Turmeric was dragged into the mess because of a lack of space. Food flew the air. The storm grew louder and shook the tent adding to the general chaos.

Sage manage to wiggle out of the pile and drag Toble with him in a crawl out of the tent. He cut the anchor ropes to the tent as he and Toble ran into the whirling sandstorm. The front of the tent collapsed on the pill of soldiers.

"Have you lost your mind!" screamed Toble over the storm.

"Later!" shouted Sage as he searched the landscape quickly.

The soldiers outside were struggling with the frantic horses and flying tents. The sandstorm was here and growing stronger. No one paid any attention to the men running away.

Sage headed to an outcropping of rocks where he knew there was a cave. It was not too far away, but in the storm, it seemed forever to get there. The wind threatened to knock them completely over. As they approached the massive rock formation, a ten foot tall Troll stepped out into their path.

"I don't have time for this!" shouted Sage.

The hairy creature looked almost human except for its long arms, gnarled heavy features, and bulbous nose. It hardly even knew how to speak. Instead, it roared happily lifting his fists as he started to come after them. There was nothing Trolls like better than fresh meat.

Toble immediate threw up his arms and transformed into a large oak tree.

"What are you doing?" shouted Sage.

"They don't eat wood, just meat," shouted the oak tree.

"Yeah! Well that doesn't help me!" shouted Sage as his voice cracked.

"Then run!" said the oak tree.

Sage turned to run. His only choices were to go to the village that betrayed him or to Turmeric's camp which was in the process of flying away. He ran as hard as he could towards the village as the wind tore at his clothes. It was as though he had to run perpendicular to the ground to keep the wind from knocking him over. He could hear the Troll behind him as he slid in the sand and fell over a rock. He pushed himself up and continued to run. The sandstorm was making his skin feel rare, but it was better to have raw skin than no skin at all. He could move faster than the lumbering giant as long as the wind didn't knock him over again.

He recognized the first stone house on the edge of town. That was Jackie's home. She was another Sprite girl Sage had liked and whose father hated him. What had happened? He used to be known as the nice boy in town who did all sorts of helpful things. Now everyone hated him. Sage barely pondered this as he jumped up and climbed into the window of Jackie's bedroom.

Immediately, Jackie gave a loud scream from her bed and pulled the cover up in fear.

"No wait," said Sage as Jackie continued to scream at him. "I'm just running from a Troll."

"Who are you?" bellowed a Sprite man running in through Jackie's door with a sword.

Sage recognized her father and his deadly expression immediately. That was how he looked the last time they met, but he didn't have a sword then.

"No wait," said Sage holding his hands up in surrender. "It's a misunderstanding."

"You're that boy who keeps bothering the girls in this town," growled the Sprite man. "I am going to teach you a lesson."

Sage backed up towards the window. Now what?

"I never hurt any one of them," said Sage. "but there's a sandstorm outside and a Troll and... "

"And you thought you could hide in my girl's bedroom?"

The Sprite man lunged towards him and swung with his sword at Sage. Sage ducked. A massive hairy arm reached into the window just in time to get hit with the sword. The Troll bellowed out in anger.

"See!" shouted Sage as he darted past the man through the house.

Sage heard two or three more screams from various people in the house before he found the front door. He burst back out into the sandstorm and was nearly blown over. He had to find shelter, but no one in this town liked him much anymore. He felt the full consequence of his reputation hit him. Then again, that might just be the debris in the storm.

The Troll was roaring with anger and banging on the wall of the stone house trying to break it down. Turmeric's camp was still being blown around wildly, but all the soldiers and Turmeric were trying to run toward the village. Sage wasn't sure if they were coming after him or trying to find shelter from the storm. Their canvas tents weren't strong enough to endure this kind of weather.

Sage found a large rock and ran around to the other side of the house to where the Troll was. He threw the rock into the Troll as hard as he could.

"Here I am you over-grown wart!" shouted Sage.

The Troll roared and turned around toward Sage. The sound was enough to make Sage's legs feel weak. Sage took off running back around the house towards the Huldra soldiers. As soon as they spotted him, they changed course towards him.

"Save me!" shouted Sage. "Save me!"

The soldiers immediately grabbed Sage and held him. One soldier tied Sage's hands with a rope. Poppy punched him in the face.

"Yep, I deserved that," he muttered as his bloody noses started to bleed again.

A roar followed from behind Sage, and Sage smirked. The Huldra soldiers all looked wide-eyed as the Troll emerged from behind the house and stood ten feet tall with the sandstorm swirling around him. Turmeric immediately formed red fireballs in each hand. A few of the soldier took off running. The rest of the soldiers drew their weapons. The Troll lumbered towards them.

A few more soldiers ran off. One started cussing. Another soldier wetted himself.

"Yep," shouted Sage with a nod. "I make enemies pretty quickly."

Turmeric glanced at Sage and then back at the Troll. The soldiers tried to hold onto Sage with their free arm as they backed up. Turmeric shot his fireballs at the monster, but that only enraged him. The Troll leaped toward the group. Sage fell backward on purpose and rolled on the ground on of the way of the soldier's feet. The Troll grabbed a solder in each hand and knocked their heads together. Sage continued to roll like a log away from the fight. The Huldra soldiers then used their swords to cut at the thick skin of the Troll but didn't stop him. Sage rolled some more towards the desert. A mighty battle ensued as fire magic, swords, the sandstorm, and the enraged Troll converged. Sage kept rolling quietly away.

Sage continued to roll, powered by the wind, until he got as far away as he could. He then jumped up onto his feet and ran as hard as he had ever run in his life. The sandstorm was blinding, and he could barely see his destination. He ran low to the ground pushing through the wind with desperation. He didn't stop until he reached the outcropping of rocks with the cave. He didn't even slow down once he entered the cave. When he tried to stop, he slid across the hard flood past Toble. Then stumbled, rolled, and smashed into the far wall.

Toble sighed and sat down on a rock.

"Well, at least you're alive," said Toble.

Sage rubbed his head as he sat up. His skin was raw, his lip was bleeding, he had a black eye, his hand had a huge gash, and his clothes were rags. He glanced around the cave as the wind howled more intensely.

"Yeah," said Sage. "I guess I'm alive."

"Were you actually going to join Turmeric?" asked Toble.

"Blah!" said Sage. "I was trying to make the girl angry enough to attack me."

"You're a moron," said Toble. "When did you learn that move?"

"Between kissing Rosy and her father attacking me with a knife," said Sage. "I don't know why they get so angry. I haven't actually done anything more than kiss a girl."

"You've done a lot of kissing," said Toble as he got up and cut the rope off Sage's hands. "You also have a reputation that says differently. You need to start learning the power of a reputation."

Sage rubbed his head again.

"I might have a hard head, but some things are getting through. I promise you," said Sage. "Now what?"

"We leave," said Toble with a sigh as he stood up.

Sage followed as Toble lit a torch made of debris in the cave and flint from his pocket. Then they wandered deep into the cave.

"Do you know where this leads?" asked Sage.

"We have lived here five years," said Toble. "I do try to make sure I always have a way out."

They continued to travel deep into the earth. Sage told Toble all that happened after Toble had turned into a tree as they walked through a narrow passage.

"We won't be able to stay in one place anymore," said Toble. "We know that Turmeric is searching for you."

"The Troll will take care of Turmeric," said Sage.

"No," said Toble. "Turmeric will be able to fight the Troll. If he didn't think so, he would have run."

"So, then what?" asked Sage. "The new government rules the nine nations. There isn't anywhere Turmeric can't find me. Am I not exiled from my exile?"

"We will just have to keep traveling," said Toble. "I have no other answers."

Sage swallowed. His stomach growled.

"And do what?" asked Sage. "I won't be able to learn a trade or get married or anything."

Toble paused and turned to Sage.

"Is that what you want?" he asked the youth. "You weren't pursuing those things when you had the chance. You were just tormenting girls."

Sage frowned.

"I thought they liked it," said Sage. "Honestly. You know I like helping people out. The girls said they liked being kissed and held. You should see how they smiled and giggled."

"Were you helping them out?" said Toble. "Is that why I risked my neck to save you? You are only helping people when their lives are better after you leave them. You stopped helping anyone other than girls two years ago. I am not sure if you are the same person as the boy I knew."

Sage walked on quietly as he pondered this for the next hour. The winding path eventually led them up again into a cave similar to the one they entered. The sandstorm was slowing down, and then they had to figure out what to do next.

***

They ended up northwest of where they had settled. They left the cave to find a small Nomad village of Gnomes. Sage was able to find some work carrying stone to repair the buildings damaged by the sandstorm. He earned a silver coin which they spent on food. That night they slept in the open by a campfire.

Sage continued to ponder Toble's words and his ruined friendships in the Sprite village. That wasn't the person he wanted to be. His father and mother would have agreed with Toble. He wondered what could he possibly do with his life now. He wouldn't be able to stay in one place until Turmeric was dead. What trade could a person do while traveling and hiding?

Toble and Sage continued to find odd jobs to do for the next few days before moving on to another town. As they traveled from town to town looking for work and buying necessities, Sage began to find more to do other than just paid jobs. In one human village, Sage helped repair a cart for an old widow. Then he climbed a palm tree to fetch a boy's ball. It was little things, but he liked how it made him feel. It was nice when people smiled at him rather than always having an angry father trying to kill him.

After a month of traveling and working, they were able to buy some new clothes and some supplies that they carried in rucksacks. Sage still found he like girls, but he learned how to flirt more subtly so that a woman actually still had a smile when he left.

"Sage," said Toble as they approached a large town. "I need to get some news in the tavern. Can you stay out of trouble for a while?"

Sage smiled broadly.

"I haven't been in trouble in over a month."

"I know," said Toble. "That's what worries me."

Sage shrugged and glanced around the market as Toble entered the tavern. The broad market held more imported items than nearly any other village he had ever been to. The awnings of the many busy booths lined the market street in a colorful display, like a puked up box of paints. The market was filled with all kinds of Nomads of every race, shoulder to shoulder, in a quest for the perfect over-priced purchase. Merchants shouted out what they sold with promises of excellent prices and better sales than their cheating pigged-faced neighbor.

Sage stopped at a booth that held handcrafted items from Vervain. Many of the items held vague memories of his distant childhood. Had he only been in the desert five years? The porcelain plate and hand painted maps reminded him of the palace. It had been years since he had seen lace, silk, or even a fork.

"These are beautiful, no?" said the old mixed-blood woman who was selling them. "They are unique, and the world will never see the like again."

"Really?" said Sage glancing up at her. "Why?"

"Don't you know?" asked the woman. "Vervain was burned to the ground fire years ago. No one has lived there since."

Sage's face grew pale.

"Really?" asked Sage as his mouth went dry. "Was everyone killed?"

"Of course," said the old woman. "Men, women, children. Rich and poor. The whole city either joined the army or was slaughtered. The world has never seen such a massacre before or since."

Sage turned away from the booth feeling sick and began to wander. He had seen his mother get killed. Toble had witnessed his father's murder. They had then escaped the city soon after that. Sage remember having wanted to stay and fight, but Toble had said it would be impossible. An eleven-year-old boy stood no chance against an invading army. This was the first time he had learned that everyone had been slaughtered, all the kids he knew at the royal school, the nobility, the townsfolk, all of them. Somehow, he thought that they would have just carried on without him like always, just under the new government.

Sage sat at the village well. He breathed in deeply, reliving his past. He wanted to do something about all of it. His life was continually ruined over and over again but a fate determined to squash him into the ground like a roach by a phobic homemaker.

"What are you doing here?" came a booming voice.

Sage's eyes widen as he spotted Jessica's father. The Sprite man looked angry as he pointed his finger directly at Sage.

"Have you chased my daughter all the way here? Are you determined to ruin her?" shouted the man as he pushed through the crowd towards Sage. "I will pulverize you with my bare hands!"

"I didn't do anything!" Sage muttered to himself before jumping up and running into the crowd.

Sage heard the man's voice calling out for him to stop. Random merchants reached out to stop him thinking he was a thief. Sage avoided them, dodging attempts to stop him. Soon a chorus of "stop thief" echoes behind him.

"I didn't do anything!" said Sage glancing around quickly to find the tavern where Toble was at.

Sage soon found it and rushed inside. He found Toble at the bar talking to the barkeeper over a mug of brewed cinnamon tonic.

"We've got to go," said Sage as he grabbed Toble's arm.

Toble sighed as he looked at Sage.

"I didn't do anything!" said Sage. "Jessica's father saw me wandering the market and started to chase me."

Toble gulped down his drink, paid for it, and they quickly rushed out of town.

"Sage, you are a magnet for trouble," said Toble when they were far enough away that no one could see them.

"I've been good," said Sage. "I am trying to turn over a new leaf or twig or whatever the saying is."

"That's not what I mean," said Toble. "Jessica's father was a problem, but I found out that Turmeric has put a price on your head. Fliers are being delivered to every town."

"What?" said Sage as he paused mid-step. "That means I can't go anywhere without someone after me. Now, no matter how much we travel, I'll get discovered anyways."

Toble turned towards the young man and nodded.

"Yes," said Toble with a sigh. "It doesn't matter how good you become, trouble will find you from now on. I have no idea what we can do about it. We have been hiding as well as we could these past five years, but now..."

Sage ran his hand through his brown hair and glanced around the desert. He loved it here, but now it didn't make any sense to stay.

"Well, if trouble is going to find me either way, then perhaps we should make a good reason for it," said Sage.

Toble raised an eyebrow.

"More girls?"

Sage shook his head with a serious expression.

"No, Toble," said Sage. "You keep talking about the fact that I should think about my reputation. Well, my reputation worldwide is that I'm an enemy to the government. You weren't the only one who learned something. I found out that Vervain had been burned to the ground and everyone killed. What kind of government does that? What kind of people slaughter women and children?"

"We live in a dark world," said Toble gravely. "We have had much news for a while, but I haven't heard anything good."

"Yes, well, I intend to do something about it," said Sage forming first with his hands. "If they are going to hunt me down, then I am going to give them a reason to."

Toble studied Sage's face.

"For a moment, you looked like your father," said Toble a little in awe. "What do you have in mind?"

Sage relaxed and stood up taller with a smirk.

"We find any person that the government is abusing and stop them," said Sage.

"There are thousands of people who are being abused, enslaved, and executed each day, Sage. You can't save them all," said Toble. "Believe me. I spent most of my life trying to end slavery, and now even more people are enslaved then even before."

"No, I can't save everyone, but I can save one," said Sage with a smile. "And then perhaps another one. Who knows where it'll lead? After all, I have nothing better to do. I have no trade and no future. Why not help someone who does? Then if I die, I've done something that some girl might think is pretty hot."

Toble grabbed the youth by the shoulders and embraced him as his eyes watered up.

"Sage, so help me, I will follow you in every rescue," said old Toble. "Your father would be proud."

"My father would dirty his britches with all the trouble I'll be causing," said Sage.

Toble busted out laughing as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

"That too," said Toble.

They continued to travel north into the country of Samodivas, the homeland of the Huldra. Sage and Toble traveled with their faces covered by their keffiyeh and stayed away from crowds. The luscious forested nation was easy to wander compared to the desert. The villages of wood building were close together, no more than half a day's travel apart. It was easy to catch meat for dinner, and odd jobs were more varied. Once they entered the country, they visited the taverns for news and work. Sage had his first tastes of both wine and strong cinnamon tonic. He also learned how to get news and work by himself. Toble had to teach him, because while they were in Samodivas, Toble would only be safe posing as Sage's slave. Sage had to start pretending he was a man in his early twenties. It wasn't too hard. He was tall and more muscular than the other Huldra teens his age. The desert had equipped him better for this life than he had anticipated.

It took weeks, but they learned about a small underground movement who met to oppose the current government. Sage couldn't learn anything about how to reach them or how to join. Instead, he learned about a scheduled execution for the underground's current leader.

"Serves him right," said the Huldra barkeeper as he was cleaning the bar with a rag. "They just cause trouble. Every time there's trouble soldiers come into town and start taking stuff. If they would just do what they're told like the rest of us, then we would have peace."

"What kind of trouble do they cause?" asked Sage as he sipped his cinnamon tonic.

Toble stood behind Sage holding his bag as they had seen other slaves do. Only two other people in the tavern had slaves. Both of them were doing the same thing.

"The underground free prisoners and slaves mostly," said the barkeeper. "Violent bunch. Sometimes they steal tax money or whatever. Dante is the name of their leader. He'll be killed in Kilgore next week. Then we'll have some peace and quiet. They aren't anything without him. He's their brain. A born nobleman who has had his property taken away for treason. Some say he's even a cousin to the king of Samodivas, not like that means anything anymore. The world government tells the king what to do anyway. With Dante gone, the underground will go away, and we'll have some peace and quiet."

"Sure thing," said Sage as he sipped his drink, "because the soldiers don't do anything to cause problems."

Toble kicked Sage's foot, but Sage just smirked at him.

"Nothing too bad," said the barkeeper. "I'm not saying they are perfect. I just don't like unnecessary trouble."

"I hear you," said Sage.

He finished his drink and paid. Then he left the tavern with Toble following behind.

"So, we go to Kilgore," whispered Sage.

"That's a big first rescue," whispered Toble. "Kilgore is the capital. It will be the biggest city in Samodivas and will be crawling with soldiers."

"Then they won't expect anything," said Sage. "We just need to find out more about the execution and how it's going to happen."

***

Sage stood near the wooden platform in the middle of Kilgore's massive market square where the execution was to happen. The city of waddle and dob building towered three stories tall around the square. Uneven stone roads led to and away from the square like a drunk spider's web. Horses, carriages, mules, carts, were parked in odd places. The wooden market stalls were trying to sell food and souvenirs to the crowd. Entertainers, jugglers, puppeteers added to the deafening volume in the square. The enormous bustling city was full of thousands of people crowded shoulder to shoulder to watch the show or execution, depending on who you asked. There weren't even this many people in the entirety of the Nomad desert. Sage remove his keffiyeh to breathe, but the smell of body order was overwhelming.

An awning was set up on a second wooden stage for Samodiva's royal family, the nobility, and Turmeric to sit and watch the executions above the crowd, noise, and smells. Sage had found out that these structures were less than five years old and in continual use. Huldra soldier in black uniforms stood posted all around the market. The imposing royal castle sat on a hill inside the gated city casting a feeling of being watched over the exhibition. Sage could hear the sound of the procession from the castle hill approaching the platform. Trumpets blared, and soldiers shouted for the crowd to make way for the prisoner. The crowd began to murmur in anticipation.

The black haired middle-aged man being pulled in a tiny cart had his hands bound with rope behind his back. His face held bruises, and his clothes were rags, but he stood to his full height with his eyes straight ahead like a king. Sage smirked in appreciation of the dignity of this man. He just looked like a natural born leader.

The cart stopped near the execution platform, and the man was dragged from the cart by a pair of Huldra soldiers. A third soldier followed behind as they climbed the wooden stair up to the stage. The man, Dante, was forced to kneel at a block of wood set in the middle of the stage. The third soldier then unrolled a long parchment and read out a list of charges that no one could hear of the continual roar of the murmuring crowd.

Sage glanced around to see where the soldiers stood posted. Two were at the corners of the wooden stage, and group surrounded the monarch and his companions. Another group was with the cart. The reading the charges continued on until a couple of people shouted for them to get on with the execution.

When the list of charges was finally finished being read, the soldier turned to look at Turmeric. Turmeric nodded in approval. The soldier rolled up the paper threw it down and drew his sword.

"You!" shouted a booming voice from a few yards behind Sage. "You're the one who accosted my daughter! I'm going to kill you!"

The whole crowd grew silent at the odd interruption. Even the soldiers on the stage looked up to see where the voice was coming from.

Sage turned around to see a massive Huldra man pointing his finger at him. Sage's eyes grew wide.

"Now!" shouted Sage. "I didn't do anything!"

Toble rolled his eyes and moved away into the crowd.

The man rushed towards Sage pushing through the crowd. Sage glanced around quickly for an escape. He rushed to the platform and jumped onto the stage just as the huge man nearly reached him. The startled soldiers just stood gaping at the situation. The soldier with the sword hesitated, but then began to move forward again to do the execution. The colossal man chasing Sage didn't slow down though. He drew a sword and rushed at Sage onto the stage. Sage grabbed the sword from the executioner's hand and blocked the blow from the Huldra father. The whole crowd erupted in chaos. Some wanted Sage to go away. Others were thrilled for the pre-show show. Sage and the colossal huldra man exchanged another blow which knocked Sage to the ground. Dante took the convenient distraction and dived off the back of the stage.

"Come with me," said Toble from the ground as he sliced the man's rope around his hands.

The underground leader didn't pause to ask questions but rushed off with Toble into the chaos. Dante and Toble soon disappeared into the mass of people observing Sage's fight.

Soldiers soon came to their stupefied senses. A couple of soldiers pursued the underground leader. The others looked around trying to figure out what they should do.

"That's Sage Goliad!" shouted Turmeric standing from his seat. "Guards seize him! Don't let him escape! Where's Dante? Who let him get away?"

Sage was still sword fighting the angry Huldra man while rolling around on the stage dodging his blows when he saw the two soldiers start toward him. Sage rolled off the front of the stage. Then Sage pushed through the crowd to escape in the opposite direction of Dante and Toble.

"No!" shouted the Huldra father. "I won't let you get away!"

He jumped off the stage to go after Sage. The soldiers followed the man searching the crowd for where Sage went.

"There he is!" cried the Huldra father as his pushed forward.

The soldiers helped the father get through the crowd and followed after him. The crowd parted easily for the soldiers with swords. Sage ran for his life, rushing toward open areas in the square. The soldiers perused behind him shouting for him to stop and for someone to catch him. The crowd was in chaos as Sage would point to random places also yelling, "Stop him! He's over there! No thief, you can get away!"

Sage ran down an ally, but the Huldra father spotted him. The soldiers not confused by the random shouting happening all over the crowd at this point followed the Huldra father in his pursuit. Sage continued to weave around the curvy, narrow allies until he reached a tavern door. He glanced behind him. Seeing that the purser couldn't see him from around the corner, Sage rushed in and closed the door silently. He then paused at the doorway listening to the Huldra father roaring threats as he and the soldiers rushed past the door.

Sage smirked. He then scanned the small dark tavern full of patrons smoking and drinking quietly among themselves. Then he made his way towards the darkest corner. There, in a booth, sat Dante and Toble. A barmaid served both of them a mug of cinnamon tonic as Sage approached. Sage smile at the curvy girl, and she gave him a wink. Then Sage sat down in the booth next to Toble.

"What took you so long?" asked Toble.

"You try doing it," said Sage stealing Toble's drink.

"Son," said Dante studying the young man. "You are either the dumbest boy I have ever seen or the cleverest."

"I think the Huldra man who I paid to put on that show that saved your life would say I was clever," said Sage.

He took another sip of the potent drink.

Dante's mouth dropped open, and he stared at the young man in astonishment.

"You're going to be Turmeric's worst nightmare," whispered Dante.

Then he held out his hand to Sage which Sage took gladly and shook it.

"I plan on it," said Sage. "After all, I have a reputation to live up to."
The Devil Himself

Mudwort was not your average Ogre brute; he was a captain in Maldamien's vast army. The dull-witted Ogres were almost never officers. That honor was typically saved for the more intelligent races such as Huldra or human Nomads. Mudwort was proud of his hard-earned distinction as he guarded the main road out of thick Shenlong forest. His polished, silver armor glittered reflecting the rays of light shining through the enormous trees. He watched every traveler with his keen dark eyes. His warty gray skin stretched tight over his bulky muscles, and his pointed lower teeth stuck up over his top lip making him a terrifying sight.

Today marked an important day that had brought even Turmeric, Maldamien's second in command, to this far country of Sprites. The Duke and Duchess of Greenpond had been arrested and were to be executed for treason in just a couple of hours. The nation of Caoineag needed this high profile execution to squash the emerging underground movement opposing the great wizard dictator.

Mudwort put his rough hand on the hilt of his massive broadsword. He watched a poor family of three Sprites driving a half-full cart of apples. The melancholy family rumbled past, down the wide dirt road into the base of the tree-top town. These vain Sprites were ungrateful. Maldamien ruled the eight countries of Gryphendale with strict order. His soldiers numbered in the tens of thousands and patrolled every corner of the kingdom. Crime was unheard of anywhere in the land. The taxes and slaves that Maldamien demanded was a small price for the stable government that had brought the Ogres out of poverty in their mountains. These Sprites had always had life easy, but now they were the same as everyone else.

A family of five round Gnomes in pointed hats walked out of town in front of Mudwort. The anxious mother pushed her three children to the opposite side of the road. They all glanced fearfully at Mudwort who stood more than twice their height. This terror didn't bother Mudwort at all. He liked the feeling of power those fearful looks gave him.

He enjoyed being a soldier, and he took his job seriously. He had been given special orders today. Rumor had it that the most wanted men in the kingdom, Sage the Huldra and Toble the Dryad, were also here. For nearly fifteen years they had been causing problems at executions. They were known troublemakers who traveled all over the kingdom encouraging underground resistance movements and even freeing some slaves. Turmeric especially hated Sage. They had a troubled history. Mudwort wanted to be the one to catch the rogues and earn the admiration of even the nomad officers in the army.

"How are you doing, Mudwort?" asked Lord Jacob as his moth wings brought him to a soft landing by the road.

The Sprite lord in the frilly white blouse and a stylish striped coat was one of the most stalwart supporter's of Maldamien's government in this country. Mudwort had formed a casual friendship with him when he had acted as Lord Jacob's bodyguard for a few trips. The cocky Sprite was middle-aged with stripes of white in his dark brown hair. As a leader in the Sprite court, Lord Jacob held tremendous power and influence. He was also one of the very few who spoke to Mudwort at all.

The pig-faced ogre bowed slightly to the nobleman.

"Just guard duty, sir."

The massive ogre stood head and shoulders taller than the fashionable Sprite.

Just then, a large wooden cart full of barrels approached them. The pudgy Sprite man driving the cart had undersized moth wings that didn't seem strong enough to support him. Mudwort held up his hand and stepped into the road. This cart was just the sort of thing that Sage would hide in to get out of town.

"You should check that cart well," said Lord Jacob folding his arms and narrowing his eyes. "That is Ezekiel. He has no love for Maldamien."

Ezekiel snarled at Lord Jacob.

"Does it matter? I'll keep my mouth shut to stay in business."

The portly Sprite was known to have the best brew in the country. It was said that he was one of the few Sprites who didn't live in the trees. He made his home on the floor of the forest after he fell out of a tree, drunk on his own tonic.

Mudwort took Lord Jacob's advice seriously. He opened every barrel of the strong cinnamon smelling beverage. He even searched under the cart. It was all clear. He motioned the impatient sprite brewer to go.

"Well," said Lord Jacob, "I still don't trust him. Are you planning on coming to the execution?"

"Can't," said Mudwort. "Sage is in town, and I plan on catching him."

Lord Jacob tilted his head with a skeptical smirk.

"Good for you, but I am not sure the devil himself could catch that rascal. Last year, he sneaked by Turmeric himself with freed slaves."

"I'll catch him," said Mudwort folding his arms over his silver armor.

He continued to watch the road intensely.

Five nomad soldiers rode their brown horses up the road at full speed. The commanding nomad held up his hand to stop his troops in front of Mudwort.

"Have you seen a cart with barrels drive by here?" asked the commander sharply.

The nomad with intense brown intense eyes wore a full dark beard and had his head covered with a keffiyeh. All the soldiers wore the loose tunic and trousers of that desert people.

Mudwort nodded with confidence.

"Just came through a few minutes ago."

"You fool!" shouted the nomad commander fiercely. "That cart had Sage, the Duke, and the Duchess!"

Mudwort dropped his arms and turned pale.

"That's not possible! I checked every barrel!"

He glanced at Lord Jacob. Lord Jacob shook his head.

"I knew Ezekiel was a traitor. Perhaps, he had a false floor in the cart, or maybe the barrels were cleverly made only to be half full of tonic."

"You better hope we catch him!" said the commander. He kicked his horse with his soft knee-high boot. "Or you'll have to explain it to Turmeric!"

The nomad solder rode through with his troops at full gallop.

Mudwort watched them ride off after the cart.

"How is that possible? I checked everything. They couldn't have passed my eyes even with an invisibility spell." He turned back to Lord Jacob. "You saw how carefully I checked everything!"

Lord Jacob sighed.

"One day, they will catch Sage, but it will probably have to be Maldamien himself. I would not have done any better than you."

Four Ogre soldiers and Turmeric came running up to them. They stopped in front of Mudwort and Lord Jacob and panted to catch their breath.

"Did some nomad soldiers come by here?" asked Turmeric panting hard with his sword drawn.

His loose nomad tunic and trousers were covered in sweat. His Huldra eyes changed from dark green to black and back again. His dark fox tail barely brushed the ground.

Mudwort was shaking now. Turmeric was a Huldra wizard with a bad temper.

"Yes, sir," said Mudwort licking his lips. "They just rode by. They said that Sage was in the cart with barrels, but, sir, I checked the cart. There couldn't have been anyone in those barrels. I am sure..."

"Shut up, you idiot!" snapped Turmeric turning red with rage. "Sage wasn't in the blasted cart! The nomad soldiers were Sage, Toble, the Duke, the Duchess, and two friends. They just now stole my horses and escaped."

"The devil himself!" said Mudwort as he stared down the dirt road where Sage and the others had vanished.
Sage and the Quest for Cake

The Huldra Nomad crouched down in the grand oak tree at the edge of a small forest. He watched the procession of faerie creatures pass on the dirt road through drought-ridden fields of purple grain. The gnarled, seven-foot-tall Ogres in gray armor shepherded a line of hairy, two-foot-tall Brownies towards the Odemience fortress. These quiet, little, farming families were marching to certain slavery or death. The Nomad, Sage Goliad, swished his fox tail as his almond-shaped eyes changed colors from green to brown. He studied the situation carefully perched in his hiding place. Only four Ogres traveled in this group. That wasn't bad. He had seen worse.

"I need a better view," said Sage as he stood in the tree. His brown tunic and trousers tucked into his soft knee-high boots helped him blend in with the shadows of the tree.

The oak tree responded by growing another thick branch above Sage's head. He grabbed onto the branch and pulled himself up higher. He crouched down and frowned as he spotted the brown tail and light skin of the huldra leader in the group. Sage swore as his eyes turned black with rage.

Turmeric.

Sage despised him. Turmeric was Maldamien's lackey who had ruined his life, twice. The wizard dictator, Maldamien, had killed Sage's father in a military conflict, but Turmeric, Sage's own cousin, had murdered his mother in cold blood. Then, Sage, at only twelve years old, had escaped into the desert with Toble to scavenge a new life. Only a few years later, Turmeric began hunting him in the desert ruining Sage's chance for peace. Now, Sage, at thirty years old, did the hunting. He deliberately tried to make Turmeric's life miserable. One day, he would kill him.

Sage bared his teeth in the way only a Huldra could. He now had two reasons to rescue the Brownies, but he waited. He liked to have all the information he could before going into action. He noticed the petite carts of produce pulled by the Brownies' large family dogs. In the middle of the line of carts was one glorious cart holding pastries.

"Oh wow," said Sage as his eyes turned bright green. "They have cake! When was the last time I had cake?"

"At your twelfth birthday party," answered the oak tree.

Sage wrinkled up his face as he thought.

"Didn't I have cake once in the desert?"

"They don't make pastries there," answered the tree.

Sage tighten his cloth belt. When was the last time he even had a decent meal with a dessert? Perhaps, ten years ago? Fifteen? Well, that was reason number three to attack the caravan. Good enough.

Sage took hold of the branch under his feet and swung down to the branch below. Then he dropped from that branch to the ground. The oak tree began to slowly shrink as Sage hid behind a bush to watch the procession. Twenty Brownies, five carts, four Ogres, and a magic using Huldra bad-ass. The tree continued to shrink down and transform into a white-haired Dryad with large, floppy, pointed ears. The tall, old man dressed in olive green Nomad clothes picked up his rucksack from the ground by his feet. He strapped the over-sized canvas bag to his back as he crouched down next to Sage.

"That's a bit ambitious, don't you think," said Toble.

"We've done more," said Sage. He was forming a plan in his mind. It would involve a lot of running and dodging. He frowned. He needed something a little better.

"With one of the underground groups," said Toble. "Not on our own."

"Maybe I can help," said a voice behind them.

Sage spun around drawing his short sword in the process. How did he not hear anyone behind him? Toble had already grown vines on his hands to use as whips.

The young Brownie teenager stood behind them with his arms folded. He had the large nose and floppy ears of his people, but he also had a couple a remarkably large scars running down his head and neck. The minuscule oddity, only two feet tall, held out his rough hand. This stranger had done something very few had managed: he had taken both Sage and Toble by complete surprise. After over fifteen years on the run, that just didn't happen.

"Arthur," said the plain Brownie.

Everything about him was brown instead of the bright colors other Brownies wore. If he laid down, he would look like he was carved from wood.

"I'm assuming you are Sage and Toble from all the stories," said Arthur. "If you are here to rescue my kin, I can be of service."

Sage sheathed his sword as his eyes turned colors from reddish brown to green. A Brownie adventurer? Who had heard of such a thing? These were farmers and house faeries. Then again, dark days created odd heroes.

"Your cousins?" asked Sage.

"Kind of," said Arthur scratching his wild brown hair. "It's my mother's uncle-in-law's second cousins."

Sage blinked at Arthur.

"We keep track of our distant relations," said Arthur with a shrug. He held out his hand again. "Does it matter? You might need the help either way."

Sage shook Arthur's little hand with a skeptical smirk.

"Good to meet you," said Sage. "What can you do?"

"I can sneak, and I can throw," said the Brownie as though that was good enough.

Sage nodded. He could most definitely sneak. That was for sure.

"Can you throw knives?" asked Toble.

The Dryad also shook the little Brownie's hand.

The Brownie shrugged.

"I don't have any with me, but I could," said Arthur.

Toble unstrapped his canvas bag and dug through it burying nearly half his body into the rucksack. Toble carried lots of strange things in his bag such as dried blackberries, ticker tools, first aid supplies, maps, clothes, rope, odd bits of lint, and moldy unknown substances that may developed sentience at this point. Sage rubbed his unshaved chin wondering what Toble would pull out. Eventually, Toble found a couple of small carving knives.

"That'll work," said Arthur taking the two knives and weighing them in his hands.

Sage arched an eyebrow. This little guy knew more than he showed, and he couldn't be more than nineteen.

"Alright," said Sage. "You each get an Ogre, and I'll try to keep Turmeric busy."

"That leaves two Ogres left," said Arthur.

"Sage was never good at math," said Toble strapping his bag back on, "but trust him on this."

Sage had already drawn his short, curved sword and made his way toward the back of the line of carts. He darted up to the farthest back Ogre in the convoy and walked behind him matching his steps. His fox tail swished in time with his silent steps. The Ogres were massive fighting beasts who towered head and shoulders over the rest of the races in Gryphendale. This one was a smelly, gray, boar-headed warrior.

The two Brownies driving the carts behind him gawked at Sage with wide eyes. Sage put a finger to his lips, and all the Brownies immediately focused ahead like nothing happen.

Arthur and Toble quickly followed behind. They stayed back creeping at the rear of a cart. Sage glanced back to see when they were ready. Then, he stabbed his short sword into the back of the Ogre with as much force as he could muster. These thick-skinned monsters were tough to kill, and he wanted to make sure he did it right. The Ogre's heavy thud face first onto the ground launched the rest of the Ogres and Turmeric into action. Turmeric vanished into thin air, and the Ogres drew their swords as they ran towards Sage.

Sage immediate ran away from the Brownies searching the air for the clear ripple of Turmeric's invisibility spell. A reptilian, brown Ogre caught up to Sage instead. Sage crouched down ready for the attack. He darted around the ugly pile of muscle and stench to keep from getting caught in the Ogre's firm grip. The scaly Ogre swung hard with his massive broadsword. Sage rolled to the side. Then he jumped back on his feet.

Toble used his arms like vine whips to battle a charging cow-faced guard. Their energetic conflict threatened the precious pastry cart. Sage ran to the wildly rocking cart. The reptilian Ogre nearly caught Sage as he ran. A dagger shot passed Sage and embedding in the Ogre's forehead in between his eyes.

"Great shot!" shouted Sage as he avoided the falling mass of flesh.

Sage caught the rocking pastry cart and kept it from falling over with the cake. He then darted right as he saw the silver light of a fireball forming in mid-air in front of a transparent ripple in the air.

Turmeric.

In the corner of his eye, Sage saw Toble tying up the cow-faced Ogre with vines. Arthur was darting through the legs of the last Ogre who had large tusks. All the Brownies ran out of the way of the fighting with their hands still tied in front of them.

Turmeric reappeared to throw the fireball. Sage rushed him. The fireball came at his face so Sage dropped flat on his back. He slid on his side into Turmeric's feet. He rolled and sliced with his sword, but Turmeric jumped out of the way. Turmeric drew his sword.

"How many times do I have to kill you?" said Turmeric with a growl.

"As far as I can tell, you haven't succeeded once yet," said Sage.

He lunged forward hacking with his short sword. Turmeric blocked the attacks with his sword easily. Sage tried to stay close so that fireballs were harder to throw. Turmeric's longer sword was awkward as well when Sage was almost in grappling range.

Sage moved aggressively forward fighting with every bit of skill he had. Turmeric responded defensively, not having the chance to really get a good hit in.

The short sword Sage owned barely coped with the fine long blade Turmeric swung skillfully. Sage's recklessness in getting as close as possible in a fight was the only thing that helped him. He crouched low as he fought, but he swung at Turmeric's gut with passion.

They moved back towards the carts. The corner of Sage's mouth curled up. He continued to move forward swinging with his sword quickly. Perhaps, today he would kill Turmeric. It was turning out to be a good day already.

Arthur's dagger killed the last Ogre in the forehead.

"Not the cakes!" shouted Sage with his eyes wide.

The Ogre's towering body rocked like a teetering pine tree being felled and crashed right into the cart with the pastries. Sage groaned.

With Sage momentarily distracted, Turmeric took the opportunity to stab his sword at Sage's chest. Sage dived right. The sword hit his left arm instead.

Toble's vines shot out of the ground and began to wrap around Turmeric's legs.

"No!" Turmeric shouted.

He hacked at the vines with his sword. He then vanished.

Sage crouched down searching for the ripple in the air. Sometimes, Turmeric would continue to fight, and, sometimes, he ran off. Sage smirked. It felt good to not be the one running this time.

The Brownie prisoners cheered, and Arthur helped untie their hands. Sage kept his sword out watching all around as he and Toble shook hands with the Brownies.

A petite Brownie woman gave Arthur a surprise hug.

"Thank you, Cousin Arthur!" she exclaimed.

Arthur scratched his head.

"Have I met you before?" he asked.

"I'm your mother's uncle-in-law's first cousin."

Sage rolled his eyes.

They kept watching for Turmeric as the Brownies discussed what to do next. After a few minutes of waiting, they turned the procession around to head to the nearest village only an hour away.

Toble wrapped a strip of cloth around Sage's left arm to stop the bleeding. The stab wound hurt, but Sage grimaced at yet another hole in his clothes.

"By the Gryphon," moaned Sage still holding his sword and keeping watch as they traveled. "I wished we could have saved that cake!"

Arthur smiled while walking next to them.

"You should have given that order before running off," said Arthur.

"You're not bad with those knives," said Sage glancing down at the young adventurer. "Are you part of the Brownie underground?"

Arthur snorted.

"What Brownie underground?" said Arthur. "I have never heard about it our gossipy family gatherings. The most adventure and daring you'll get from my people is the random attempt to add parsley to their stew."

Sage smiled. At least Arthur was honest about his people.

"We meet tonight," said Toble digging in his bag and eating random snacks that made Sage shiver. "It's mostly foreigners who live in your country who gather, but we can always use some help."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully.

"I'll be there," said the Brownie with a twinkle in his eye.

They soon reached the small country village of Grassmarket. The gathering of wooden buildings, wandering farm animals, and scampering children around muddy roads was hardly even called a village in other countries, but here, it was the nation's capital. Sage finally put his sword away, and he gave Arthur directions on where to meet. If Turmeric wanted to attack, he would have done it already.

The quiet town had one main dirt road lined with shops through the middle. Lots of little yellow farms laid all around with fields of purple wheat. The Brownie prisoners were greeted by the various generous families who may have been kinfolk. You never know with Brownies. Arthur disappeared in all the furry brown heads of the townspeople.

Sage and Toble made their way to the main crossroad of the town and knocked on what appeared to be thin air. The Plough and Thistle Inn materialized, and the tall wooden door to the inn opened. Hickory, the old Dryad who own the business had already gathered the few members of the underground. This was a full sized inn that all races of Gryphendale could enjoy without bending in half to Brownie size. Sage immediately felt relaxed as he greeted the members of the underground who were already sitting at the small wooden tables with mugs of intoxicating cinnamon tonic. He hadn't been there for nearly a year even though he tried to visit all the underground groups as he traveled. Sage shook hands with the two Nomads, three Undines, and a small group of Gnomes. He plopped down in the wooden chair by the fireplace.

"Nasty cut," said Hickory getting his medical supplies from behind the bar. "Did you get tickled by an Ogre toothpick?"

"Nah" said Sage. "This time my old friend was scratching an itch."

"Turmeric?" said an Undine man with a patch over his eye. "Whatever Brownie farm town he burned down this time will mean tightening our belts in the rest of the country for a while. I'm not sure if my bellybutton is touching my spine yet, but I guess we'll see soon enough. The harvest season is still two month away. We'll have to wait that long to refresh the storehouses."

Others in the inn grumbled their agreement sourly.

"Are we ready to start the meeting?" asked a portly Gnome who led this particular underground group.

Hickory sat by Sage and Toble with a large wooden box in one hand and two mugs of tonic in the other. Toble took one mug, and Sage took the other. Hickory began to clean Sage's arm.

"No," said Sage. "We need to wait for one more. I am expecting a Brownie named Arthur. Any of you met him?"

"A Brownie?" said the Undine woman lifting her webbed hand to her forehead. "They can't stand adventures or risks. It doesn't matter what Turmeric does to these people, they don't fight back."

"This one is different," said Sage as he watched Hickory wrap his arm with a bandage. "He killed two Ogres today."

The dark room erupted with murmuring.

"I'll believe it when I see it," said a Nomad mix blood. "A two foot tall Brownie against and eight foot Ogre? You have told better stories, Sage."

The Nomad took a deep drink of his mug of tonic as the room murmured their agreement. Sage shrugged in response. He probably would have agreed if he hadn't seen it himself.

A loud knock came from the door. Sage and Hickory both stood up. Hickory walked quickly over to the door. Sage watched to see how the room would react to Arthur's presence.

"Well, come on in!" said Hickory with unusual enthusiasm. "Our new friend came bearing gifts!"

Sage stepped a round the table towards the door to see the knee high Brownie carrying a cake nearly as big as himself.

"Fantastic!" exclaimed Sage as his eyes changed colors from dark green to sky blue.

He took the cake from Arthur and put it on the bar next to the plates Hickory was pulling out.

"My sister-in-law's first cousin's father-in-law is a baker here in town," said Arthur. "Those you rescued wanted to pitch in to show you their appreciation. Don't worry, they think you're in hiding. The meeting is safe."

"My dear friend," said Sage staring at the cake as his mouth hurt in desire of it. "I think I may owe you my life."

Sage eagerly took the first plate with a generous slice of chocolate cake and creamy butter-cream frosting. His hands shook as he picked up the fork. The rest of the room leaped out of their chairs and were immediately lined up to get a piece of this extremely rare treat. Food, in general, was rare, but cake could cost a king's ransom. They all shook Arthur's diminutive hand as though he was a true hero. Any grumbling about a Brownie adventure was long forgotten. In everyone's minds, a more valiant figure didn't exist.

"Take me on your next adventure, and we'll call it even," Arthur replied to Sage.

Sage shoved a large bite of cake in his mouth, and a tear rolled down his face.

"With a cake this good, you can go on all my cursed adventures!" said Sage.

"Here! Here!" shouted the underground room in agreement.

The Worst Hero Ever

This was first published in Stinkwaves Magazine  
in the Fall of 2019

"You're the worst hero ever," said Arthur, the minuscule Brownie as he paced the prison cell. His messy brown hair was now matted with blood, his brown clothes were shredded, and his course tan skin that reminded people of a log of wood was black and blue. "Literally the worst."

"It's a matter of perspective," said the lanky Huldra man sitting against the stone wall of the prison cell with his ragged legs stretched out. His bruised hands were behind his knotted head as he swished his charred foxtail nonchalantly.

Arthur stopped his pacing and glared at the dilapidated man.

"Sage, they're going to kill us," he nearly shouted. "Especially you! You're the most wanted man in the nine kingdoms. Maldamien wants your blood tonight."

The door to the dungeon opened as a gigantic Ogre in full silver armor stomped in dragging a Sprite woman down the steps. Ogres were massive creatures built for battle. Rumor said that once they captured you, you never escaped alive. The Sprite woman screamed as she was shoved into the only other prison cell in the dungeon. The Ogre slammed the iron-barred door closed with a grunt and left her sobbing.

"Glad to see you, Zinnia," said Sage as he stood at his own iron doors staring at her.

She wiped the tears from her bruised face and tilted her pointed chin up to see the mysterious speaker. The aristocratic Sprite stood and dusted her silk ballgown before going to her door. She appeared to have just come from the royal court.

"Do I know you?" asked Zinnia as her moth wings flutter through the stone wall.

"We're here to rescue you," said Sage with a shrug.

"Really?" she asked.

"So we got captured on purpose?" said Arthur with a snort. "Great idea." He rolled his eyes.

"Well, not on purpose," said Sage as he ran his hand through his messy hair. "Not this time at least, but it'll work."

Sage pulled off his green cloth belt that cinched the waist of his ragged tunic and trousers. The inside of the belt had multiple tiny pockets.

"If your here to rescue me, how did you know I was going to get captured?" Zinnia asked watching Sage dig things out of the pockets.

"I overheard their plan to hold you ransom until your father supports Maldamien's spy as part of your kingdom's parliament," said Sage as he pulled out metal picks from the cloth belt and laid them on the ground. "Ruling the world isn't enough. He wants to control each of the governments in the nine kingdoms. This is the nearest outpost to the Sprite court, so you would have to be held here."

Arthur grabbed the picks and began to work on the lock of the iron door. Sage pulled out some string and flint. Then Sage pulled out some little bags from his soft knee-high boots and tied the bags to his cloth belt with the string.

"Can I use your corsage pin?" Sage asked Zinnia.

The cell door clicked open. Arthur tucked the picks into his shoe as Sage walked out of the cell.

"I'm keeping these for the next time you have a great idea," said Arthur before following him. "I didn't know you were a walking toolbox."

The dungeon was just two prison cells on opposite sides of a basement that stored building supplies. The expanse of stone wall between the two cells was under construction to add more prison cells. After Maldamien had conquered the central government, all the outposts were being enlarged for more prisoners and slaves. Sage grabbed an iron bar as he walked by a pile of bars.

"It didn't come up until now," said Sage.

Zinnia took the pin out of her corsage. She through the flowers to the ground and handed the pin to Sage through the door. Arthur began to work on the lock of her cell door.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"It's complicated," said Sage. "But I'm kind of an outlaw and kind of a friend of your government. Sort of."

Arthur snorted.

The door clicked open, and Zinnia left the cell smoothing out her silk gown.

"Wait here," said Sage as he climbed the stairs of the dungeon.

He vanished from view and returned a little later without his belt or the pin. Then he walked around the dungeon with Arthur, and Zinnia following silently behind.

"What are you doing?" asked Arthur.

"Shh," said Sage.

Sage stopped at an outside wall farthest from the stairs and in the middle of the construction. He placed his pointed ear next to the wall and listened.

After a moment, he took his iron bar and tapped a stone with a rhythm. Sage waited and then did it again. A minute later, a green vine pushed through the stones like a little finger. The vine grew wider and wider until a chunk of the wall caved in. Zinnia suppressed a squeal of surprise. The vine immediately shriveled up, and the dirty head of an old Dryad man with wild white hair popped through the opening.

"I heard you the first time," said the old man to Sage. "Have patience. It takes time to dig a tunnel."

"When did you tell Toble to start digging a tunnel?" asked Arthur.

"That was plan A," said Sage.

The door to the dungeon squealed open.

"Hey, what's going on down there!" shouted an Ogre.

A massive explosion followed.

"Drat!" said Sage as his eyes turned yellow. "They're early. Toble, get us out."

"When did you learn to build bombs?" asked Arthur.

"Around the time I learned not to die," said Sage.

"In here, my dear," said the Dryad to Zinnia as they heard the sounds of more shouting.

"So are we on plan B?" asked Arthur.

Arthur helped Zinnia climb into the tunnel behind Toble. He then followed as Ogres began to dig through the debris at the entrance of the dungeon. Sage climbed in last, crawling through the tunnel backward.

"No, I think we are on plan F," said Sage.

He hit the dirt with his iron bar to collapse the passage as he went.

"Don't listen to his nonsense," said Toble. "He doesn't have plans. He just makes it up as he goes. That's why we are all still alive."

They crawled for what seemed like a mile before they reached the surface in the middle of the Sprite forest.

"Arthur," said Sage. "Take her to Ezekiel's brewery. Toble and I will distract the Ogres."

The group split up running in opposite directions.

"Who is he really?" asked Zinnia as she ran with Arthur deeper into the forest. "I can't believe we just escaped an Ogre outpost that quickly. That's supposed to be impossible."

"That's Sage Goliad," said Arthur with a smirk. "The best hero ever."
The Cerulean Stone Caper

Today is the day of my execution. I, Puck Alexander Capernaum III, will die by hanging when the sun sets this evening. My former student, Maldamien, Warlock dictator of the faerie world of Gryphendale, has planned a sweet revenge to celebrate his 150th birthday. My demise was only a last addition to this celebration, a candle on the cake.

I suppose I should be grateful that I am not alone in my small, stone cell. Is it truly fair to think I am the sole focus of Maldamien's extensive hatred? He is magnanimous enough to share his vileness universally. So, the hospitality of my host lands me here with my companions in the basement of the Ogre outpost next to the ancient palace ruins of Yarrow.

The large stone building and barracks of the outpost blights the landscape south of the ruins by the wide Undine River. The river is the main causeway through the center of our small world of Gryphendale. This particular barracks provides Ogre soldiers to regulate the Undine population who live in the river, even though the Ogres can't swim. Being located in the center of the kingdom, Maldamien often chooses this location for his most spectacular events so that all can be compelled to come and see.

Four other unfortunate souls share my fate. Smithy the Gnome, Jordan the Undine, Cherry the Dryad, and Paula a human nomad are equally hated enough to be my peers in death. They each opposed many kinds of crimes and abuses before being caught. Even though I had not known them all before now, I consider it an honor to stand among them.

"You there," says a gruff, seven-foot tall Ogre in full armor from outside of the cell. He points at me with his nasty gray hand. I stand up and adjust my orange top hat and matching orange waistcoat. After all, I don't have to die looking like a barbarian, though, that may be closer to the truth. My poor white dress shirt has a burn hole in my right shoulder and is covered in dirt. My two goat-hooved feet make an awful lot of noise as I walk to the door of the cell.

"You bellowed," I say with a grand bow, slightly lifting my hat.

The boar-faced Ogre wrinkles up his nose in a snarl. "Yeh, you get to meet with Maldamien before you die."

Fun. At least, I'll get to tell him what I think before I go. It doesn't surprise me much that he would want to gloat. He had always thought he was smarter than me from the moment he walked into my class as a teen. Yes, that does make me quite old. I am 287 years old, in fact, and should have died a long time ago, but that really doesn't make this any easier. My death was not inevitable. I walked right into it with the help of multiple good friends.

***

It all began two months ago when I was enjoying a mug of deliciously brewed cinnamon tonic in a dark corner of Ezekiel's magically hidden inn and brewery, The Dead Toad. The Sprite underground rebellion was having their monthly meeting. The usual debates about the abuses, taxes, and slavery digressed into drunken remembrances and songs about the old days. The twenty-two half-starved Sprites were crowded together in the small, dark dining room full of wooden tables, benches, and chairs. Their bitter complaints about the last Ogre aggressions were interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

Only friends of Ezekiel knew that the large boulder on the bottom of the Caoineag forest was actually an inn, especially since all the Sprites lived up in the branches of the trees and not on the ground. Ezekiel, the large Sprite with undersized moth wings, moved quickly to the door and answered it. The room waited in hushed terror of discovery. I immediately recognized the young Huldra adventurer, Sage, and the old Dryad inventor, Toble. They were greeted enthusiastically and dragged into the room as everyone rushed at them for news of the other underground groups. These two men were legendary among these underground gatherings for their daring rescues and continual fight against the evils of Maldamien's dictatorship. As always, they looked like they had run into trouble with some of Maldamien's soldiers.

I joined the crowd of star-struck Sprites in greeting them as Ezekiel fetched his medical supplies. It is hard to be seen in a group of human height faeries when I am only a little over three feet tall. I got my chance to push through the throng and shake Toble's large rough hands.

"Ogres, nomads, or Huldras this time?" I asked.

The white-haired man with large pointed ears smirked tiredly. "Ogres," said Toble as he dropped his large canvas bag and brushed off his dusty clothes. "Sage has a thing for aggravating them."

I laughed, because it was the truth. "Well, what has brought you here this time?"

"Ah!" said Sage. He flicked his dark brown fox tail that matched his messy hair and unshaven face. The athletic man in his early twenties plopped down in a chair as his eyes changed colors from black to green. "I have a plan! A great idea that will be remembered for years to come."

Ezekiel immediately started to work on the gash on Sage's left arm. Ideas were what Sage did best, but they weren't always the safest way to spend one's time. No one in the room was surprised by this announcement. In fact, it was both expected and part of the excitement of his visits.

I shook my curly red and gray-haired head. "You always do. What is it this time?"

"No! This is much bigger and better than my normal ideas," said Sage. He hissed as Ezekiel cleaned the raw scrape on his face.

Toble cleared his throat. "Yes, we are going to need as many people as we can get."

"What is it?" asked an older Sprite harvester in the back, growing impatient.

"I intend to steal the Cerulean Pendant from around Maldamien's neck at his 150th birthday celebration," said Sage loud enough for the room to hear.

The room went silent. Even Ezekiel stopped working and just stared at Sage.

"Have you lost your mind?" said a gaunt Sprite woman. Her translucent moth wings twitched nervously and intangibly through the furniture. "You want to steal a legendary jewel that can block magic attacks from around the neck of the most powerful Warlock that has ever lived at a time when most of his armies are going to be parading around singing his praises?"

"Yep," said Sage with another flick of his fox tail. "Who's in?"

It was an idea only Sage could ever think was possible. The whole crowd dispersed and returned to their seats. I felt sorry for the group of Sprites, really. They wanted to bring back the old days of peace and plenty, but they were too beaten down to risk their lives to do so. They had families to care for, and homes to protect. I, on the other hand, had nothing to lose.

"I'll help you, Sage," I foolishly said, "but it had better be a good idea."

"Then we will leave in the morning, and I'll tell you more on the way," said Sage. "We have a few more places to go to collect some more people."

Sage didn't explain the plan until a month later.

***

The memory of Sage's reckless nobility always causes me to admire him, but at this moment, sitting in this dark prison cell, I would like to punch his face. Still, that scoundrel has a charismatic way of making people believe anything was possible. I never had a doubt that he was trying to help someone, and that the cause would be important. That was just his way.

"What are you smiling about?" asks Cherry. She sits cross-legged on the stone floor of the cell with Paula next to her. The poor girl has been crying on and off about the execution all day. Paula is doing her best to comfort her.

"I am just remembering some of my adventures," I tell her. "It keeps my mind busy."

"You knew Sage Goliad didn't you?" asks Smithy. The gruff Gnome who was about my height was staring out of the iron bars of the cell doors. He seems like the kind who was trying figure out how to escape. "Do you think he will come this time to rescue us?"

"He would be a fool to try," says Jordan as he waves his webbed hand towards the Ogre guard. "The parade for the armies has already started. Half of Maldamien's forces will be out there watching us die."

I fold my arms and sigh. "How should I know anything? I have been in this prison the same as all of you."

Most of the group nods or grunts in agreement. Cherry starts crying again. I feel a little guilty, but I just lean against the stone wall and return to my musings. There isn't anything better to do.

***

Sage, Toble, and I had spent nearly a month traveling to the various underground groups in each of the eight countries. Sage had specific people in mind he wanted to recruit, but he opened the invitation to everyone. At every gathering, the consensus was that Sage had lost his mind, but those that Sage sought joined the group.

We were an odd bunch. Arthur the Brownie was only two feet tall with an odd ability to sneak up and surprise even the wind itself. He had brown hair and brown eyes and reminded me of a stick of wood. Zachery was a laid-back Undine Seer who joined Sage's mission easily but rarely showed initiative to offer ideas. He did have the ability to move massive amounts of water with a wave of his webbed hands. Jackson was a dandy Sprite Seer with a sense of humor. He liked to use his wind magic to move objects on the other side of the room or path to startle the absent-minded Toble.

"The last one we need is Bladderwrack," said Sage as we traveled to the Ogre homeland of Rokurokubi.

"What a name!" said Arthur. "What can he do?"

"SHE is our wild card," said Sage. "Without her, we might as well not even try."

And that was all he would say.

We just crossed the border of the Ogre homeland before we found the Ogress, mix-blood nomad waiting for Sage in the shade of an olive tree. She was a hideous mix of Huldra and Ogre blood. She had the tail of a cow, purple eyes, and gray, warty skin. She was laying back against the tree with her hands behind her head and her eyes closed.

"Bladderwrack," said Sage with a big smile. "Were you expecting me?"

"The rumors of your schemes travel like wildfire, young Goliad," she said with her eyes still shut. "Your late father, the great General, was never so cocky." Then, she opened up her eyes to look at him and smiled. "That's why I like you."

Sage folded his arms and swished his fox tail. "Well, we have about a month left to make this work. Are you and Soul's Bane in?"

"Who's Soul's Bane?" asked Jackson twitching his moth wings.

"My sword," said Bladderwrack. She stood up to her full seven feet and drew a massive two-handed claymore with one hand.

Arthur swore, and the rest of the group gawked. The Ogress chuckled. I should have known that cursed woman was trouble, but those are the kind of people Sage gravitated towards.

"I hope it's worth my time," she said as she sheathed the sword. "Come, we have much to talk about, and I am hungry enough to eat a village."

We followed her to a cave in the Odemience mountains not far away. We pooled our food for a hearty meal as we discussed Sage's plan in detail.

"I had opened this venture up to anyone who wanted to join, but I specifically sought each of you for a purpose. Maldamien's 150th birthday celebration is not so much a party as a demonstration of power to cement his reign. It will take place near the ruins of Yarrow, which is as close to the center of the eight kingdoms as you can get. Around Maldamien's neck hangs the Cerulean Pedant, which protects him from magic, but it does not protect him from theft. I want to steal it and give it back to the Undine ruler, King Martin, to protect his hidden palace. He is one of the strongest opponents of Maldamien still in power. If he doesn't have something to protect him soon, Maldamien will wipe him out. In return for the Cerulean Pedant, King Martin has offered us safety, shelter, and even rewards.

"All of you have been dedicated to defeating Maldamien from the beginning of his reign. Stealing the Cerulean Pedant brings us very close to accomplishing that purpose. He isn't immortal, but this relic has made it impossible to hurt him. Maldamien will be at the celebration, and it is one of the few opportunities to get to him outside of his fortress. I have two parts to my plan, one is to get that pedant, and the other is to stop the execution of four very good people. The prisoners are to be hanged at sunset on a wooden platform built for that purpose. Each one of you are essential to this plan. If any of you fail, all of our lives are in very real danger." Sage looked at each person in the group. "Are all of you certain you want to help?"

"Our lives are in danger just breathing these days," said Zachery. Everyone agreed.

Sage nodded. "Toble, do you still have the map?"

Toble dug around in his large canvas bag and pulled out a parchment scroll. Sage unrolled it on the floor of the cave. We gathered around to study it.

"The ruins of Yarrow are located in an open valley, but the rectangular foundation and broken walls of the ancient palace will provide us with good cover," said Sage as he pointed to the structure in the center of the hand-drawn diagram. "Each of us will have to work our way into the crowds. Arthur, Zachery, and Jackson will be dressed like peasants and remain near the locations of your tasks. Toble will need to stay with a wagon on the road to the north of the ruins. I know the nomad who collects the bodies of the executed. He will end up dead drunk the night before, and Toble will be replacing him. Bladderwrack, you will be in Ogre uniform."

"I hate the army," she grumbled.

"I will be in disguise as a nomad soldier too. Bladderwrack will work her way as close as possible to Maldamien."

"And what about me," I asked.

"You need to be near invisible," said Sage. "I suggest you wear brown nomad clothes and cover your face with a matching keffiyeh. You will be working your way right up to Maldamien himself. You will be the one stealing the pedant."

The revelation was like a slap in the face. I gasped and knocked my top hat off my head.

"Puck, you are the best pick-pocket I have ever not seen," said Sage. "I have never been able to actually see you accomplish your theft even when I know you are going to do it. I have seen many people do the same tricks, but I have never been able to catch you. I know you can do this."

"A pick-pocket?" said Jackson. "You were a royal tutor weren't you?"

"You learn quite a few skills in three hundred years," I muttered.

"We will wait until close to sunset before we act. Arthur, your job is to get to those prisoners and cut the rope around their wrists."

"You want me to climb onto a platform where everyone can see me do this?" asked Arthur incredulously.

"You will climb up from under the stage," said Sage. "I will be making a big show to distract everyone. Don't act until I reveal myself. Zachery, you will need to find a high point to cut the ropes around the prisoners' necks. I suggest the tall south wall of the Yarrow ruins." He pointed to the place on his map. "How far can you shoot your ice daggers?"

"About 100 yards accurately," Zachery said.

"Well, you need to hit the ropes from 150 yards before the executioner pulls the lever for the trapdoors. You have four ropes to slice in less than a minute," said Sage.

Zachery swore.

"There is a tree closer," offered Sage, "but the branches might get in your way. It could be possible to hang upside down and shoot, I suppose."

"Have you ever done magic upside down before?" asked Zachery.

Sage shook his head. "I don't do magic."

"Well, it's near impossible," said Zachery. "The blood rushes to your head, and you can't get the magic to flow to your hands." Toble and Jackson both verified Zachery's statement.

"I never knew that," said Sage. "That could be useful information."

Zachery snorted as he crossed his arms. "I'll do the 150 yard shots from the wall."

"OK," said Sage. "Toble, you will need to drive the wagon for everyone's escape. You have to be driving like the wind as soon as I show myself. The prisoners will drop under the platform. You need to load them and get them out before the guards arrive. Can you drive a team of horses and do magic at the same time?"

"You might as well ask me to do calculus and surgery at the same time, Sage," said Toble.

"Then I'll take that as a yes," said Sage. "Jackson, you need to protect them as they escape. We need a good storm surrounding the wagon once it gets noticed. You need to be stationed at the front of the platform keeping the Ogres away with a small tornado. Once the wagon shows up, you will need to expand the storm to surround the wagon as Toble drives it south."

"A storm from a high-speed wagon? We will drive right into the rocks and branches caught up in the wind!" said Jackson.

"You have to move the storm to match Toble's speed," said Sage. "We will have time to practice. Now, all of this doesn't happen until after I reveal myself. Many of the soldiers will start chasing me and that will be the signal for everyone to move. I will lead the soldiers through traps that we will have set up near the Undine River to the west." He pointed to places already marked on his map.

"What kind of traps?" asked Zachery. "I am not good at coming up with complicated things like that."

"I will invent the traps," said Toble. "I have been doing that for years. I especially think my swinging logs are most effective."

Sage nodded. "I will be on the west wall of the palace ruins when I make my appearance. Whatever you do, don't leave the plan no matter what! I expect to have a massive herd of Ogres after me. Bladderwrack, you are our insider to Maldamien. Shaded wooden bleachers have been built for the nobility to watch the parades and execution. Maldamien will have a private box near the center of the bleachers. We will replace the Ogre closest to him with you before all of this begins. You will obey Maldamien's commands and keep him distracted so that Puck can pull off a slight of hand."

"In the middle of everyone running around like crazy and moving all over the place?" I said.

"I suggest you do it right when I show myself," said Sage. "Everything needs to happen as close to the same time as possible. We will have only one moment to catch everyone by surprise."

"It sounds well planned except that most of Maldamien's armies are going to be there. No matter how many you lead away, they aren't just going to let us go driving down the road to get away," said Jackson.

"We are going to escape into the river with you and Zachery working together," said Sage.

"What do you mean?" asked Zachery. "Their archers and fire Warlocks can shoot us on the river."

"He means under the river," clarified Toble. "You both are going to have to combine your magic so we can run right into the river and travel under the water to the Undine Palace. Wind and water magic together can make a small bubble around our wagon. We only have to go under the north shore just ten miles south of Yarrow."

"What!" said Jackson. "Ten miles after I have been making tornadoes and wind storms? That is a lot of magic."

"I can help with that," I offered. "I am proficient in most kinds of magic, but it would be good if we practiced some. Combined spells are tricky and this is a big one. One person will not be able to do it especially after fighting for our life beforehand. Then again, when am I going to get out with the pedant? Will I even be with them?"

"You, Zachery, and Bladderwrack will catch up to the wagon at the sharp turn in the road just before the river. You will need to run southeast through the woods. So, yes, you will be there when they enter the river," answered Sage.

"What will prevent Maldamien from following us?" asked Arthur. "He is the strongest Warlock who has ever lived. You aren't going to just nab him in a spring tree noose trap like you would a squirrel."

"What's a spring tree noose trap?" asked Zachery.

"It's just a rope noose on the ground tied to a bent tree with a light trigger," said Bladderwrack. "Hardly anyone uses it anymore."

"I use it," said Arthur. "But not for catching Warlocks."

"I can take care of Maldamien," said Bladderwrack sitting up with her hands on her hips. "I just need to give him one good cut on the wrist in the right place, and that will make it hard for him to cast a spell until it has healed."

***

She had been right about that. Even at my age, you learn new things every once in a while. The bandage on my right wrist demonstrates that Maldamien already knows of that little trick and uses it on his prisoners regularly. The cut on my wrist hurts like crazy. I try to ignore it, but it is probably the first time in my life that I cannot use magic. What a way to face the gallows!

I glance around at the other four despairing prisoners. They are all still silently lost in their thoughts. I wish I could cheer them up or give them some kind of hope. Hope has been a bit expensive lately.

It was certainly taking a long time for my meeting with Maldamien. I would be really annoyed if he hid behind a closed door instead of facing me. I dedicated four years of my life to teach that little brat. I have spent the rest of my life trying to undo my mistake. Even four weeks ago, when we had been practicing our plan, I knew that there was a high probability of us all dying in the process. It was a risk I was willing to take to bring Maldamien down a notch. I didn't have a problem with the risk then, but it is a little more disconcerting with it looming right before me as it is right now. I am pretty sure I still would have made most of the same choices if I were to go back. I would just tweak the plan a bit better. At the very least, Maldamien can look me in the face before he kills me. The amount of work it took for me to get into this prison cell was ridiculous!

***

Our crew had spent two weeks practicing our skills and moving our location. We perfected the spells to steal the Cerulean Pedant, free the prisoners, and escape into the river. We had measured out the size of the ancient palace ruins and timed each part of the plan on Toble's minute glass. We continually spied on Yarrow in case changes were made to the celebrations. Then, Sage learned from a drunk nomad that Maldamien wasn't going to show his face at the celebration at all. We were devastated.

"We just need to tweak the plan," said Toble as everyone sat around the Gnome inn nursing their mugs of strong tonic.

"Sure," said Bladderwrack. "We can interrupt the hanging, but what do we do about the pedant? Without the pedant, we just rescue people to get them recaptured. That pedant would have been one step closer to ending this nightmare permanently."

"He will still be there, but just inside the outpost," said Sage. He gulped more of the tonic. "I have an idea."

I should have noticed the slight slur in his intoxicated voice. Well, we thought it was a good alternative at that point, so we adjusted our plans accordingly. Rash judgments are not well done when one is running out of time. We still needed to get our supplies and set the traps in the woods for Sage's escape.

We split up into groups of two and three to get what we needed and to set up the site. Sage, Toble, and Arthur traveled to the woods around Yarrow to set the traps. Jackson and Zachery went to steal medical supplies and some weapons from a crooked merchant. Bladderwrack and I were commissioned to steal a wagon. That should have been the easiest of the tasks.

Being seven feet tall, Bladderwrack knew almost nothing about sneaking anywhere. We had decided we needed a large wagon built by one of the tall races. We had to drive nine people into the river with it, so we traveled over to Caoineag for a Sprite wagon. Almost as soon as we crossed the border, we spotted the dull stone structure of an Ogre outpost with a wagon tied near the stables.

"Hey! An Ogre wagon will be the biggest thing that there is," said Bladderwrack. She was a firm believer that bigger was always better about everything. "Look, and there is one right there with four horses already hitched."

I knew better than to steal from the military. Soldiers tend to have weapons and all those fancy toys, but it seemed pretty easy at the time. We just walked up, untied the wagon, and climbed in. Bladderwrack took the reigns and was just about to get the horses going when an Ogre at the doorway of the outpost started shouting the alarm. I turned and shot a sleep spell at him. I should have done that first before getting into the wagon. It was the quietest and quickest spell I could muster, but by then it was too late. Ogres poured out of the outpost in every direction.

Bladderwrack flicked reigns and got the wagon out onto the road before the first Ogre could get to us. For a moment, I thought we would get away, but a fireball hit me in the arm knocking me out of the wagon. I'm glad I didn't break my neck!

"Puck!" shouted Bladderwrack as I rolled on the ground. She glanced back at me, but the Ogres were already surrounding me. It was too late for her to do anything.

"Go!" I shouted, "Get away!"

I heard her shout at the horses and drive them hard down the road. I have no bad feelings about her getting away. I am angry at her for suggesting we steal from an outpost to being with. Cursed woman!

The Warlock Huldra who had shot me quickly took my arms and bound them so I couldn't do magic. It wasn't like I could fight back after the fireball injury and the tumble. I felt sick just standing.

Well, the rest is history. I am too valuable of a prisoner to have avoided being included in Maldamien's birthday hangings, so, predictably, here I am.

***

I notice the Ogre guard with boar's teeth at my cell door.

"Maldamien is ready for you," he says.

I straighten my orange waistcoat and adjust my top hat before I walk to the cell door. It was pointless vanity considering my burns, scrapes, and cuts, but life is a mental game. I tend to face it as a gentleman scholar.

The boar-faced Ogre opens the squeaky iron door and lets me out. We walk silently through the extensive basement. He grows nervous as we travel out of the basement and up a set of narrow stone stairs to a room in the officer's section of the barracks. Everything I have seen of the plain stone building was purely functional, but when the Ogre opens the door to this office, it has the luxurious adornment that belongs in a palace.

Maldamien sits behind an ornate wooden desk. He considers himself a human Englishman and dresses the part. I suspect that he has some blood of one of the more undesirable minor races of Gryphendale. If he does, it isn't obvious. His slick, black hair and chiseled goatee compliment his youthful appearance of a man in his prime, no older than thirty. He looks really good for 150. I'm impressed.

Maldamien glances up from his writing with a slight smirk.

"My dear, old teacher," he says with bitterness. "I have longed for this day for many years."

I barely conceal my snarl. Funny how his first sentence gets under my skin. I cross my arms waiting for what he wants. He stands up from his desk and walks around it with the arrogant bearing he has had since he was a youth. I can see the Cerulean Pedant hanging from around his neck just as Sage had described. The ornate bluish jewel hangs from a thick gold chain as a teasing reminder of my friends on the outside. I wonder how many people Maldamien killed to steal that relic from the Undines?

Maldamien stands before me looking down at me. He folds his arms over his silver waistcoat and well pressed shirt.

"You embody everything that is wrong with this world," he says. "Do you really think I didn't expect you and your friends to crash my celebration. What was the wagon for? To steal my prisoners? I have expected your friend Sage from the very beginning."

My thoughts immediately start to whirl. This has been a trap from the start? I suppose Sage has interrupted enough hangings that it would have been predictable. Still, Sage and the whole group are in danger if Maldamien is prepared for them. There is no way for me to know what they are doing right now, and no way to warn them.

"Does Sage make you nervous?" I say finally after a small pause.

Maldamien raises an eyebrow. "You know me better than that. I get rid of my pests. I don't run from them. Sage will come, and then I will squash him."

I narrow my eyes. "I think you would have done that before now if you could have."

"I have not even begun to try," says Maldamien.

He holds out his hands to his sides forming molten lava fireballs in each. His eyes glow red as wind blows around his clothing. He glows with an obnoxious display of all-magic. It would have impressed anyone else, except I can do that too if my wrist isn't cut.

"My underlings may have struggled, but I will not," says Maldamien.

Fiery anger boils up in me. The arrogance is nauseating. I can usually hold my temper, but the dark use of perfectly good magic touches a sore spot with me. This all comes from my instruction in the magical arts. I bear that guilt. He had potential once. What a waste! I grit my teeth but restrain myself.

"You have always had skill in manipulating magic, but you have never been clever, Maldamien," I tell him. "Talent only goes so far. A smart scoundrel is worth ten Warlocks. Magic is just a tool. It is a club that you use to bully those around you, but one day you will trip over the simplest wit. You will be trapped by your own superiority complex."

"You are such an old fool," snarls Maldamien as he puts out his fire spells and leans close to my face. "I have seen what the great minds out there have devised. I have destroyed the most complicated plots, the cleverest contraption, and the most skilled wizards."

"You have hardly done any of that," I say with fury. "You have hidden away in your fortress and used your overpaid army to protect your throne. You use brute force, not intelligence. Your horrendous reign has destroyed thousands of lives and plunged the majority of the populace into absolute poverty."

"I rule this world rightfully," growls Maldamien. "Not one person has successfully opposed me. Even now when I rule the whole world, you won't admit that I am your better. I am more powerful than anyone else you have ever known."

"You are nothing, Maldamien," I growl in return. "I can name dozens who are better than you. Your warped mind has poisoned your magic, and I despise you more than any other living person. I would never say that you're my better. My dying breath would bless Sage Goliad before your name ever crossed my lips."

"Do you think that an illiterate orphan from the Nomad Desert has any hope of getting away from me?" shouts Maldamien. "I hope you live long enough to see me burn that scruffy rogue into a crisp. I will drink to your death knowing that you have seen all you have done reduced to ash."

I leap towards him and put my hands around his neck. He is the biggest mistake of my life, and I wanted to destroy him at that moment. Maldamien knocks me across the room with one sweep of his hand. His magic gives me no chance to even hurt him. I slam into the stone wall. I have a hard head, but my hat is crumpled. That makes me even angrier as I sit up swearing.

"I could kill you for that, but it would be too fast," says Maldamien. He walks over to the door and opens it. "Guard, take him back to his cell, and you don't have to be too careful about it."

The boar-faced Ogre steps in and grabs the back of my waistcoat. He drags me to my feet. I put my crushed hat back on as he shoves me out of the door. I catch a glimpse of Maldamien's perverse pleasure at my torment before I leave. All I can do is growl under my breath.

The Ogre shoves, jostles, and kicks me all the way to my cell. It hurts like steak in a meat grinder, but I have been through that before. That doesn't make it any easier. I mentally swear at Maldamien, and then at Sage, and then at Bladderwrack. Since I am still angry, I go through the circle a second time for good measure. The hanging is due in less than an hour. That has my nerves on edge. I am ready to indulge in any mental exercise that would keep me focused and level-headed.

In the cell, I just can't sit still, so I pace. My four cell-mates haven't moved the whole time I have been with Maldamien, and they just watch me exert my nervous energy. Two nomads came to the cell only thirty minutes later. They bind each of our hands behind our backs. Cherry wails, and Smithy struggles until he is beaten into submission. The rest of us just submit to the inevitable. Then, they lead us out of the cell and up the narrow steps to a door that leads outside.

The sky is beginning to darken as we walk through the door to a crowd of observers gathered in the open field south of the palace ruins. To the right of the wooden platform and gallows stands legions of soldiers in formation. In front of the gallows, thousands of observers from all the countries congregate. Behind us is the decorated wooden bleachers full of rich nobility with a colorful cloth awning giving them shade from the diminishing sun. Banners hang on wood poles scattered around the field. Merchants are selling food and souvenirs, though few are buying them. It is hard to tell which are Maldamien's supporters and which are just compelled to come by soldiers. The crowd divides before us as we trudge to the stage.

We walk in a line with me at the front by a nomad guard. I climb the six wooden steps up to the platform. Five ropes hang down from a wooden beam overhead. Each of us is lined up on top of trap doors. Two extra trap doors lay next to me. Apparently, Maldamien is prepared for last-minute additions. A noose is placed around each of our necks. It is nerve breaking. I can smell death. I can't take it anymore. I struggle as hard as I can, but what can I do against my tall captors without my magic? I honestly have never been so close to death before, and I don't like the look of it.

At that moment, a magnificent voice shouts over the crowd. "Death to the tyrant, and long live a free Gryphendale!"

It is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. I look up to see Sage standing on the western wall of the Yarrow ruins with his curved sword drawn and held over his head. With the sunset behind him, I am sure I am staring at a picture from an old book of legends. My old heart leaps up into my throat.

Part of the crowd cheers while others scream or hiss. The entire valley erupts in chaos. Captains of nearly every group of soldiers bark out commands. Sage jumps down from the Yarrow ruins. A mass chase ensues as troops from everywhere try to converge on Sage.

Maldamien emerges from the outpost with a huge grin. He moves impossibly fast as Sage runs into the woods to the west. In a moment, Maldamien is in front of the charging troops. A mass of soldiers follows both Sage and Maldamien at a full run. As they disappear into the woods, Maldamien is gaining with his magically enhanced speed. I can see wind, water, rocks, and debris whirl up as Maldamien calls his magic to destroy Sage.

"Oh, Sage!" I exclaim. "May your stars line up, and your luck hold out!"

I feel the small hands of Arthur cutting through the ropes around my wrist as the Nomad in charge of the hanging comes to his senses. He gives the order to pull the trap door. Ice spikes fly through the air and cut the rope above my head along with the ropes for the prisoners next to me in rapid succession. I fall to the ground as the trap door drops. It is quite a fall, but I roll over quickly. I have no desire to wait around to get caught again. Arthur jumps down next to me.

"To the wagon!" he shouts to the other prisoners and points to my left. We all run blindly where he points. I can hear screaming and swords clashing as we run out from under the wooden platform. Wind is blowing in every direction. Jackson runs towards us as rocks fly through the air around him hitting soldiers and clearing his path.

Toble drives the cursed Ogre wagon at full speed through the crowd. Everyone in the crowd has the sense to move out of the way of the four galloping horses. Jackson creates a storm of wind surrounding the wagon as we climb into the back as fast as we can. My fellow prisoners look completely stupefied by all that is going on, but they each react like the seasoned underground fighters that they are. Sticks, rock, debris, and even people fly in all directions as though we are in the eye of a hurricane. Jackson jumps up next to Toble.

"We are all in!" shouts Arthur.

"Yah!" shouts Toble as he flicks the reins and drives the wagon through the rest of the crowd down the road towards the river.

"What about Sage, Zachery, and Bladderwrack?" I ask Arthur. "Maldamien was planning for him to come this whole time. The scheme has been compromised."

Jackson and Toble are too busy with those chasing us to deal with the sixteen Ogres trying to blockade the wagon with huge rocks and their bodies.

"Puck, we need some magic!" shouts Jackson as we draw closer to the soldiers on the road. Toble isn't slowing down.

"I can't! My wrists are cut," I shout.

"Puck, take the reigns!" shouts Toble. "I'll deal with the blockade then."

Just I climb to the driver's seat and take the reins, Bladderwrack with Soul's Bane drawn steps into the road in front of us. She is dressed in Ogre armor which confuses the Ogres at the blockade. Before I can blink, she cuts down six Ogres her size with a swing and slash of her sword.

I slow the wagon just enough for her to finish. I have never seen anyone fight like that. She doesn't waste a move as she fights in a blur of speed. Her lightness and flexibility resemble a dancer using her full range of motion.

Jackson focuses his storm on the mass of soldiers closing in behind us. Toble waves his arms causing trees and vines to sprout up through the rock blockage, pushing it apart just as we drive through. Bladderwrack stabs and swings killing the last ten Ogres before grabbing onto the back of the wagon as we pass. Everyone in the wagon helps her climb in.

"Maldamien went after Sage!" she shouts as she sits in the wagon. "That wasn't the plan. I was supposed to keep him busy."

"He can take care of himself!" shouts Toble. He and Jackson are standing in the wagon maintaining their spells to stop our pursuers. "Stick with the plan."

"It was a trap from the beginning!" I shout as I navigate the obstacles in the dirt road. The wagon rocks wildly as we make a sharp turn to the right towards the river.

"Everything is a trap," says Toble as he continues to grow plants and obstructions in the road behind us. "Don't worry about him."

I have to trust him. There are too many people in the wagon to risk their lives for one person. We are coming up to the river quickly.

"How close are they?" I shout. "I can't help with the river either. Where is Zachery?"

"Don't stop!" shouts Toble. "The whole camp is on our tail and nearly touching us."

"What am supposed to do!" I shout. "Drive the wagon into the river?"

"The faster the better!" shouts Zachery. I glance over my should to the left, and there he sits on top of a giant salamander with a beat-up Sage right behind him. The enormous slimy creature can really move. They must have caught up with us right after the turn.

This only vaguely looks like the last version of the plan I heard. I drive the wagon into the edge of the river. The water dives and splashes over us creating a bubble of water as we move forward. Suddenly, the wheel of the wagon breaks, and we lurch forward.

"Unhitch the horses!" shouts Toble. "Anyone who can ride, do it."

Arthur pulls out his dagger and cuts the horses free. Cherry, Jordan, Paula, and Toble climb onto the horses. Bladderwrack throws Arthur and Smithy onto the horses with Cherry and Paula. When Bladderwrack picks me up.

"I don't do horses with my hooves!" I shout.

"Hurry up!" shouts Zachery. "Sage, take the reigns!" Sage reaches around Zachery's waist and takes the reigns as Zachery stretches out his arms to focus his water magic on the bubble. "Move it, people! I can't do this all day!"

"It isn't like you are doing it alone!" shouts Jackson as he takes flight with his moth wings.

Bladderwrack shrugs and then tosses me over her shoulder like a bag of wheat and runs behind the horses. I make sure she hears me swear at her. The group races forward following Zachery's salamander along the river bed. Toble uses some of his Dryad magic to make grass sprout in a path before us so the horses don't slip.

The moving water bubble is a unique and disconcerting experience especially as Jackson and Zachery continually complain how hard it is. We travel as quickly as we can, but the bubble shrinks noticeably as time passes. The horses have been conditioned to this task and trot as they should with the nice green grass before them, but the smaller breathable space motivates us to move even faster.

"We need a little space!" shouts Paula as her shoulder hits the edge of the bubble splashing water on her. The horse is picking up speed.

"You're lucky you aren't swimming yet!" growls Jackson. His outstretched arms are trembling with the effort.

We come upon the cave tunnel leading to the Undine palace in just under an hour. The tunnel slopes upwards and the magical bubble is barely keeping us out of the water as we travel up it. My head dunks under the water periodically as Bladderwrack runs behind everyone. We emerge at the top of a stone platform that forms the above-water entrance into the subterranean Undine Palace.

King Martin is anxiously waiting for us with ten of his armored soldiers on the platform. The middle-aged king in his royal robes paces in front of the mosaic entrance to the palace itself. The open entrance hallway with tiled floors functions as an ornate transition from the river to the palace doors. The mosaics depict the history of the Undine people framed in aquatic motifs and patterns. King Martin stops his anxious exercise when he sees us. We all pretty much collapse once we reach him. Jackson is trembling all over with the effects of exhausting his magic. Zachery and Toble are not in much better shape. Bladderwrack drops me on the hard stone floor and then bends over breathing hard from the run. I find it painful to breathe with the way my ribs were bruised from Bladderwrack's armor.

"I can't believe you all made it alive!" exclaims King Martin. He immediately greets Sage and the rest of us. The soldiers help with the salamander and horses as everyone dismounts and wobbles around to find a place to rest.

"Did you get the relic?" asks King Martin. I can see he is trying not to be impatient, but it is the whole point of the mission and no one is telling him anything about how it went yet. "I hope you aren't bringing Maldamien's army to my doorstep without the Cerulean Pedant. Were you successful?"

I get up and dig in the pocket of my orange waistcoat. "Here it is," I announce pulling the blue bauble from the pocket by its golden chain. I hold up my trophy for all to see. That cursed thing took a lot of work to get.

"By the Gryphon's magic!" exclaims the king as he carefully takes the pedant from my hands. His undine soldiers and the other prisoners gawk. My fellow conspirators all display big grins and share pats on the back.

"I had no doubt you could do it!" says Sage. His eyes change color from brown to blue. "You are the best pick-pocket there is."

"That's fantastic!" says Jackson. "I didn't actually think the plan would work. I was pretty sure Sage was drunk when he suggested it. When you let yourself get captured, I was certain there was no way Maldamien would fall for it."

"When did you get it?" asks Jordan. "You were with us in the prison the whole time!"

"I got it when Maldamien invited me into his office to gloat," I explain. "He has the ego of a cock rooster. He bated me until I tried to wring his neck. I certainly had to let my emotions run wild and acted more rash than typical. I have always been a method actor at heart. Since that was the response he wanted from me, he didn't notice the performance. Then he knocked me across the room which helped him feel in control of the situation. The whole thing was long enough to pocket the relic." I bow and sweep off my squashed top hat to the cheers of my friends. As I stand up again, I add, "By the way, Sage, you have another idea like that and I'll launch a fireball into your face."

Sage tries to smile with his busted lip. "So you didn't enjoy Maldamien's hospitality?"

"Look at my hat!" I put the horrendous thing back on my head.

"By the Gryphon's magic!" says King Martin as he stares at the small glowing stone in his hand. "You did all this right under Maldamien's many armies and powerful presence! I will give you ten hats if you want. Tonight, we are safe, and we will feast like the days of old!"

With the promise of food on our minds, we stand and follow slowly and weakly. The soldiers depart with the horses and salamander down a side passage, but we travel with the undine king down the mosaic-lined entrance through grand wooden doors into the glittering palace. Uniformed servants greet us as heroes and immediately set to work fulfilling the king's commands for our care. As we are led upstairs to our new rooms to clean up, I notice about a third of Sage's fox tail was burned off. He is covered with scrapes, cuts, and bruises as well.

"How did you get away?" I ask him as I point to his tail. "Maldamien had been expecting you. I saw him go after you like the wind."

Sage glances around, and we allow ourselves to fall to the back of the group.

"Yeah, he chased me down," says Sage quietly. He gives me a crooked smile as his eyes turn from green to brown. "Maldamien was moving fast. I had to slow down so he would slow down. He certainly had a real storm going, but then he stepped right into a spring tree noose trap as he was shooting me with fireballs. He was dangling from an oak tree as I got away. Apparently, he can't do magic upside down either. I only had to jump into the river to escape the Ogres after that, and Zachery picked me up with his salamander."

A simple noose trap. Ha! The most powerful Warlock of our time was out witted by a non-magic scoundrel just like I warned him. I should add prophet to my resume!
Drankenstien

Sage swirled the smooth dark liquid in his half-empty pewter mug as his eyes mirrored the color of the opaque depths. Then he closed one eye because the reflection of light on its surface stung. The stupid drink should have better manners than that.

"I'magivin' up the busss... iness hero, Toble," he slurred and then took a gulp of the intoxicating beverage.

"You mean the hero business? You've said that before," replied the white haired Dryad man sitting across the wooden table from the rugged Huldra. His pointed ears stuck out from his head through the white mass he rarely ever combed. "You're drunk. We should go before you cause trouble."

"No, I meanit thisss time," said Sage hanging his head so that his dark brown hair hung over his eyes. His usually kaleidoscopic eyes never changed colors from the black it had been for the last hour. His fox-like tail laid limp on the floor, and he leaned heavily against his elbows on the table. "I sssave thessse people'ss livesss five timess... just tahave 'em die on the ssix-th. What'ss the point anymore? Maldamien winss. He rules... the world, and I'ma nobody."

Toble glanced around the small dark Sprite tavern for a way to distract Sage. It was a dilapidated two stories building with the barkeeper's home on the second floor. The main room on the ground floor held only a dozen crowded wooden tables and a bar. Some Sprites with their translucent moth or dragonfly wings were staring at them, but the hum of conversations continued on around them.

The stares weren't surprising. Sage had been an accidental hero of the people since he was nineteen years old. He was now fifty, but didn't look a day over thirty. It was the odd effect of the curse on the world. Sage would never age a day more, and Toble would never look a day younger than he did now.

"Sage, you'll feel differently tomorrow," said Toble pushing away his half empty mug of brewed cinnamon tonic. "It was one failure. You have saved hundreds of lives over the years. You're more drunk than I think I have ever seen you and that means trouble. We need to go."

Sage gulped down his drink, and Toble stood to pick up his massive canvas bag. Sage then grabbed Toble's drink and pulled it to himself across the table.

"I'm... not... leaving... until they drag me outofhere," said Sage with a wave of his arm. "I'm tired of runnin'."

Toble sighed and sat back down.

A Nomad with a keffiyeh covering half his face stood from a dark table in the corner and walked up to Sage and Toble, drawing his massive curved sword. The swagger of the new comer was silent from the soft leather boots strapped around the legs of his loose trousers, typical of Nomad attire.

"Are you Sage Goliad?" asked the stranger.

"Who asks?" Sage replied without looking up from the mug he had stolen from Toble.

"I was sent by your mortal enemy to kill you," replied the stranger.

Sage wrinkled up his face and squinted up at the man.

"Which one?" asked Sage.

Toble rolled his eyes and left the table to talk to the barkeeper. The red-headed barkeeper with undersized wings began to whisper to Toble his concern about the fierce Nomad.

The Nomad stranger blinked slightly confused at Sage.

"How many mortal enemies do you have?" he asked.

Sage looked back down at his mug.

"Never had much time to count."

The Nomad swung his sword at the same time Sage lifted the pewter mug. The sword clanged against the mug spilling the contents on Sage.

"Heeey!" said Sage.

The Nomad swore and lifted his sword to try again.

The door of the inn burst open and two huge grotesque Ogres in shiny silver armor came marching in. Their heavy stomps were natural considering their massive size. The tallest one had to stoop over to get through the doorway. Even the shorter one was nearly two feet taller than most of the Sprite men in the room. Everyone could tell they were from Maldamien's army, and the room immediately became silent. The Nomad froze in the middle of his attack.

"Barkeeper, we're here for your taxes," demanded the slightly shorted one with the pig snout.

"I paid it two day ago," said the barkeeper still standing across the bar from Toble.

Sage slammed down his empty mug and then tried to stand up. The attempt made tons of noise that ended up with him falling back into his chair.

The Nomad stranger tried to back into the shadows away from the Ogres, but tripped over Sage's out stretched legs. He fell back into a table surrounded by workmen.

"Hey what do you think you're doing" shouted the group as the Nomad slid back on the rectangular table into the center of the plates and mugs.

"Yooou needto watch whered you're goin'," said Sage as he grabbed the top part of the curved blade still held by the flailing Nomad to get up.

"Shut up you stupid drunk," growled the Nomad. "I'll kill you for this."

When the Nomad tried a second time to get back up, all the Sprite workmen start cursing and pushing him around. The Nomad loosened his grip on the curved blade. Sage stumbled backwards with the sword in his hand.

"Well, lookyhere," said Sage staring at the sword as though it appeared in his hand by magic. His eyes changed colors to green and his tail gave a quick swish of pleasure.

"Enough of this!" demanded the tall brownish Ogre as he slammed his fist down on the bar.

Everyone in the room jumped at the noise. Sage leaned forward to focus on the Ogres. Somewhere in the back of his foggy mind he was certain the brown one was named George and the short one was named Pete. Then again he could have just made that up.

"We're here for the taxes, and we aren't going to leave with out it," said George.

The Nomad man was finally able to get up from the table. As the Nomad turn to Sage to get his sword back, all the Sprite workers at the rectangular table gave him a shove at the same time. This launched the Nomad into the Ogres at the bar.

"You're the thief from Shenlong!" exclaimed Pete as the keffiyeh fell from the Nomad's face from bumping into the wall of Ogre flesh. The tan man had a scar down the side of his face. Sage shook his head still not recognizing him. Pete grabbed onto the Nomad by the front of his tunic and lifted him a few inches off the floor. "There's a reward for you. The misses will be happy for the extra cow that'll buy us."

During this time Sage slowly turned the blade in his hand around so that he was holding it by the handle. He looked back up at the Ogres.

"Georgy and Petey, good to see ya again," Sage said and then tried to walk over to them. His progress was like that of a man on a violently rocking boat. He bumped into two tables before he made it to his destination.

The Ogres glanced at each other.

"I'm Oxblood and he's Porkblade," said George.

"Wait! That's Sage Goliad!" said Pete to his companion and pointed to drunk Huldra with his free hand. "The reward on him is worth more than a year's pay!"

Sage stopped and scratched his head with his free hand. "I'm shure you're Georgy and Petey from downin Dwende... whenI knocked you out to sssave dose Gnomes. No. Wait. They might have been green-n-grey Ogres."

"Sage, I think you should run," said the barkeeper glancing from the Ogres back to Sage who was two feet shorter than them.

Sage blinked at the barkeeper stupidly.

"I've redired from da isiness bero," said Sage as he swayed in place. "I... I don't haveto run aaanymore."

"You're retirement does erase your past," said Toble with a sigh. He leaned against the bar and pointed his hand at the two Ogres before him. "So what are you going to do with that sword now that you've quit being a hero?"

Sage glanced down at the curved blade.

"Oh, just kill the idiot and let me go!" shouted the Nomad still struggling in Pete's grip. "He's worth more than me anyway!"

"Hush you," said Pete shaking the Nomad. "Oxblood, get the drunk and let's go. We'll get the taxes later."

"I don't think that's an doog igea atall, George," said Sage with a shake of his head and then a groan. "Bood ibea... Toog ibea."

"It's Oxblood," growled the tall brownish Ogre.

"Sage, what are you saying?" asked Toble.

"Idon't know," replied Sage with a sigh.

George rushed towards Sage, but Toble's foot had transformed into a long root that tripped him. George stumbled forward and fell towards Sage. Instinctively, Sage held out his sword as the nine foot Ogre fell into him. They both crashed into the table behind Sage. The Sprite husband and wife who had been sitting at the table both screamed and jumped out of their seats before getting caught in the crash.

Pete drew his sword with his free hand while still holding onto the Nomad's shirt. The barkeeper took the opportunity to slam a small bag of flour into Pete's face.

The Nomad didn't hesitate. He drew a dagger and stabbed Pete's shoulder in the henge of his armor. Pete dropped the Nomad and roared in both pain and anger. The Nomad tried to escape, but the doorway was blocked by Sprite customers who were trying to flee the scene.

Sage, laying in the wooden debris that was once a table, pushed over George with the curved Nomad sword stabbed through him just blow the breastplate. It took Sage a full 5 seconds to study the dead foe and then wrestle his sword with both hands out of the heap of flesh.

"Sage, are you sure you're retired?" asked Toble. "It seems to me you're about to save the day again." Toble pointed to the Nomad who was just caught by Pete. Pete held the Nomad in his left hand and lifted his sword with the right as though to kill him.

"I'm not heroing anymore, Doble... I mean Hoble," said Sage.

Sage then glanced around the room as his eyes changed colors to yellow.

"Hey Petey!" shouted Sage as he stumbled to an open window on the other side of the broken table. "I'm about to escape!"

"I'm not Pete!" growled the flour covered Ogre. "I'm Pigblade!"

Pete turned to look at Sage as he spoke, giving the Nomad just enough time to escape the Ogre's grip. Pete swung his sword, but it hit the low ceiling. The Nomad ran towards Sage and grabbed the dead Ogre's sword on the way.

"I just shaved you," said Sage pointing his sword at the approaching Nomad.

"That's great, but your mortal enemy still wants you dead," said the Nomad as he lifted the blade while rushing forward.

"Whit mordal enemy?" said Sage, swaying with his sword still held out.

At that moment, Pete had caught up to the Nomad and stabbed the Nomad through the middle.

Both Sage and the Nomad's eyes widen. Then the Nomad collapsed to the ground dead.

"Danks Pete, but I never found out whit mordal enemy he was talking about," said Sage as he bent over to study the dead body.

As he unsteadily stood back up, Sage pointed his curved sword down to the ground like he would lean against it. Pete swung his sword down to kill him, but Sage's sword was three inches too short to lean against. So instead, Pete swung through air, and Sage stumbled into the stairwell and got his head stuck in the bars of the banister.

The flour covered Ogre growled and stepped towards Sage, readying his sword for another lethal attempt.

"Are you going to help him out?" the barkeeper asked Toble.

Toble shrugged.

Pete lifted his sword to kill Sage while he was still trapped. Sage rolled onto his back to lay flat on the stairs and lifted his sword in one movement. They met blades with a loud clang. The new position also allowed Sage to get his head free. Sage sat up and blocked another attack by the Ogre.

"Dang it, I'm redired," said Sage as he swayed and fought at the same time.

He tripped over furniture and stumbled around the room as though he was fighting during an earthquake.

"I'll kill you and take your body to Maldamien myself," growled Pete as he tried to strike his erratic target.

"You can't help it," shouted Toble from the bar. "You'll never retire from this. You love it too much."

"Love this? Whadabout you?" said Sage as the sword fight progressed to the center of the empty room. "Aren't you going to help?"

Pete tripped forward into Sage.

"There," said Toble retracting some of his roots covering the floor of the tavern.

Sage's sword slid into the side of Pete's breast plate and went deep as the Ogre fell. Sage dodged getting pulled down at the very last minute. Toble and the barkeeper rushed up to see the results. Sage leaned forward, barely balanced, to inspect the dead Ogre.

"I'm pretty sure it was Pete's ghost," said Sage as his eyes turned green.

"I'm pretty sure it's not," said the barkeeper with a snort.

"Why?" asked Sage slowly leaning closer to touch the flour covered face.

"Ghosts don't bleed," said the barkeeper.

"Oh," said Sage as he continued to lean closer at a snail's pace. "I dold him I'm not in the hus-iness dero anymore."

Sage continued his progression forward in slow motion, altering his path to the right of dead body, until he collapsed unconscious in a drunken heap onto the floor.

# Gryphendale

If you love the short stories about Sage and Toble, pick up the novel, Gryphendale, to read more about their next adventure!

(Sample chapter)  
Chapter 1: The Beginning

_If there is a door_ , _it must have led to something,_ thought the young woman as she examined the solitary structure in a small opening of the forest. The oak leaves on the forest floor crunched under her tennis shoes as she walked around the ancient stone platform upon which a set of large double doors stood. She searched the ground for a building foundation or path that gave the doors a purpose, but nothing else was there. She proceeded to examine the nine-foot-tall doors. They were held up by a green marble door frame engraved with patterns of blowing leaves, flying creatures, and fairies. The woman couldn't find any indication that the marble door frame had been attached to any other structure.

"How strange!" she muttered to herself. "Perhaps it's a monument."

The doors themselves were a dark wood trimmed in gold. The panels were engraved with a medieval-styled gryphon. The door handles were also gold, and above the golden handles, they were barred with a heavy wooden beam. The woman struggled to remove the beam from the gold holders and tried to pull on the handles. The doors were firmly locked.

The woman walked around to the opposite side of the doors. The back of the doors had no handles. Instead, a colorful mural depicting an epic battle filled the smooth surface of both doors. The warriors in the battle consisted of a variety of mythological creatures and humans. In the foreground, almost life-sized, were depicted two men face to face in combat. One was a human male with dark hair and a sword. The other was a moth-winged man with light hair, pointed ears, and fire coming from his hands. Diagonally at their feet lay a dark-haired woman with pointed ears and a mortal wound to her abdomen. Her face looked peaceful, as though she had been sleeping. Above all this chaos, was painted a flying blue gryphon staring straight at the viewer.

The woman was studying this art piece when the doors began to rattle and creak. Just as she looked around the corner of the door frame to see who might be playing with the handles on the front side, the doors flew open inches from her face, forcing her to jump back. She rushed around the open doors to the front to see who opened them, but she only caught a glimpse of a blue tail and the back foot of a large feline disappearing through the doorway. The woman darted around the structure, back to where she had been before the rattling, and was shocked to find that the doors with the mural on them were still closed.

"Are there two sets of doors?" she asked herself.

She returned to the front with the open doors and looked directly in. She could see through the doorway to the trees on the other side. The woman then walked around again to the back. The smoothly painted doors were still closed with the same mural she had observed before. She continued around. The front of the doors were open so she could see through. After completing this circle a third time, she stopped and stared through the opening. _It must be an optical illusion,_ she thought to herself.

She reached out her right hand and walked towards the opening to touch it. Her hand went through as though nothing was there. Suddenly, a force shoved her from behind, and she stumbled through the doorway landing on her knees. The sting of the fall on her hands reverberated through her like the hollow sound of wind through an empty cave, sweeping away her memories. For an instant, she started to look back, but the sight of the blue feline tail disappearing into the brush took hold of her attention.

"Hey, wait!" she shouted.

She decided to go after it and see what it was, forgetting anything about the doors she had just gone through. She took off in a sprint toward the forest edge where the creature had entered the brush. The sun sat low in the sky, causing visibility to diminish rapidly. She ran wildly to keep up with the sound of the creature somewhere close in front of her. The woods were increasingly dense and dark as she followed the sound. After some time of fighting through the brush, she found herself drained of energy and short of breath.

"Stop! I can't keep up. Who are you?" she gasped.

The closing branches around her entangled her reddish hair as she rushed by. Her clothes felt heavier as she tired. She tripped over her own feet and splashed into the muddy ground.

"Dadgummit!" she shouted in anger.

Now she was lost, too. There was no way she would be able to catch up to the noise, now distant in the far brush. She pushed herself up and wiped the mud off her trousers. Her clothes had become much too big, and her shoes had grown three sizes too large. She looked down at her hands. They had transformed into soft, round, child-like hands. The girl felt panic welling up inside of her. How did she get here? She could not remember. Who was she chasing? She did not know. Why was she chasing it? Who was she? Where did she come from? She could not remember anything at all from before running into the forest. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"If anyone is out there, I give up. I'm ready to go home."

No one responded.

She walked over to a nearby oak and plopped down under it. Then she wept, feeling helpless and alone. She could do nothing to fix her situation. Even if she could get out of this forest, she didn't know where to go.

The girl stopped crying as she got an idea. She searched her pockets, finding a set of keys, some gum, a pocket knife, a cell phone with a dead battery, and a little money. She also discovered a picture, and in the darkness, she was still able to see the person in it. The black and white photo was a beautiful light-haired lady with rich, dark eyes. Her thin face was perfectly framed by her long hair, and she was laughing cheerfully.

The girl studied the picture closely in the darkness. No writing was on it, and there was nothing to indicate the identity of the lady in the picture or when it was taken. She carefully folded it back up and placed it in her jean jacket pocket with the rest of her stuff.

Just at that moment, the girl heard the rustling again. The wind then blew through the branches as though following the creature in the brush.

A voice on the wind spoke, "Don't be afraid. I am with you."

The voice faded away as the wind died down. The girl heard the creature begin moving through the forest once again, just out of sight.

"Wait. I'm coming with you," the girl shouted after it.

She jumped up to follow. This time her clothes were so baggy that she had to hold up her jeans so she could hobble forward. After a few yards, she stopped, took off her shoes, and rolled up her jeans before proceeding. The creature seemed to be barely moving forward as though it was waiting for her.

"Thank you. I'm ready to follow now," the girl shouted to it.

She progressed slowly through the dense brush. Even though she was certain that she was following the creature, she was astonished to notice that its passage through the brush left no bent branches or trampled ground. It did not struggle as she did.

She ducked under the last branch and emerged into a clearing. As she looked up, she gasped at the landscape before her. The clear night sky glittered with stars like diamonds on a black velvet gown. A huge moon the size of a giant porcelain plate barely touched the horizon. At the base of the moon, a hilly forest stretched into the distance. A misty lake which began a few yards in front of her mirrored the moon and night sky. Everything was an eerie pale green in the lake's glassy surface.

A high-pitched wail pierced the silent night revere. The girl shivered and turned to her right towards the sound. The wail repeated, this time lower, like a sob, followed quickly by a louder cry. The sounds appeared to be originating behind a group of large rocks on the lake's edge. She cautiously crept around the stones and saw an elegant woman sitting on a simple wooden chair with her back to the girl. Next to her was a basket filled with white garments. The woman's hands appeared greenish against the pale robe she was washing.

The greenish woman, sensing an observer behind her, turned her face towards the girl and the rocks. The girl gasped at her vividly red eyes. The greenish woman's skin around her eyes was also red as if she had been crying for days.

The strange woman rose to her feet, faced the girl, and called out, "Child, are you lost?"

The girl started to slink away from view, but then gathering courage, stepped forward and responded, "Yes, I..."

The girl faltered, unsure what to say. She considered asking for directions or information, but she blurted out, "Why are you crying?"

"I can see that you are not from here. You are a human child. Well, child, I am Mara of the Sorrowful Lake, Queen of the Banshee." She paused, but seeing that the girl did not understand, she continued. "The Banshee are a people given to the task of mourning. We weep over every individual who dies. We also foretell the nearing demise of the noble, preparing their burial clothes in advance for their coming doom. This night my sorrow is exceedingly bitter. The garments I have washed are for a very great hero deserving the attention only a queen could give. The robes puzzle me for it is rare not to know who the clothes might be for. These are perhaps the size of a small Sprite or a tall Brownie, but I know not of one who fits this description."

She sighed and dropped the garment she was holding into her basket next to the wooden chair. Then she looked up.

"Now tell me about yourself. Who are you and how did you come here?"

The girl lowered her eyes from the majestic woman and began to dig in the dirt with her sock-covered toe.

"I don't remember," she mumbled. "I don't know where I am, how I got here, or where I'm from."

"Do not worry, child." The queen reached out her hand with a kind smile. The girl stepped forward and took it. "I sense the good in you. I will help you. What is the last thing you do remember?" The queen sat in her chair to look into the girl's eyes. "It might be imperative."

"Well, I remember running through the woods after something..." As the girl started her story, a violent rustling came from a bush at the forest edge.

A voice cried out, "Off! You horrid arachnids! Die, I say!"

The violent rustling continued.

The queen stood up, and the girl hid behind her.

"Whoever you are, show yourself immediately!" demanded the queen.

A bundle of fur leaped from the forest edge and rolled around, dropping a bright orange top hat and matching umbrella. Finally, it stood up, brushing itself off. He was a small satyr, about the girl's height. He wore a white long-sleeve shirt, a fine patterned orange vest, with a chain coming from the pocket. He had a reddish goatee, sprinkled with streaks of gray hair, and a mop of the same red and gray curly hair on his head. He walked over and picked up his hat and umbrella.

The little satyr then gave a grand bow.

"Your Highness," he addressed formally.

"Puck!" the queen exclaimed, then sighed. "Why are you here? There is a price on your head."

"I had a vision about the wind portal and journeyed here to verify its security. I was resting nearby when I was awakened by this girl's running through the woods. I pursued her until those terrible beasts assailed me," he explained. "The girl arrived here on her own, but she will not be able to return. I do not know how, but the portals were unlocked without being opened."

The queen gasped.

"Unlocked?"

Suddenly, a huge crow began to fly straight for the girl. Puck stepped in the way and whacked him with his umbrella. He then waved his free hand, creating a clear bubble around them.

"A spy," said Queen Mara.

Puck nodded.

"The shield will make us invisible for a little while," he said to the girl.

After a moment of silent thinking, the queen said, "The girl is here now, and she must be kept safe from the eyes of Maldamien. I think she is under a curse. We are not safe here. Maldamien will know she has arrived. I cannot bring her to my court. There are spies everywhere, even in the Banshee palace."

"Let me take the girl," Puck volunteered. "I can both protect her and teach her how to survive. I also have to stay away from Maldamien's eyes."

"That would be best. Thank you, Puck."

The queen pushed the girl around in front of her and knelt to her eye level.

"What is your name, child? Do you remember?"

The girl looked into the queen's bright red eyes.

"Yes. My name is Autumn."

Queen Mara frowned and stood up, looking at Puck.

"That is a portentous name."

Puck shook his head and shrugged.

"It is a lovely name," he replied.

The queen's frown softened.

"Yes," the queen agreed, a smile briefly touching the corners of her mouth. "Puck, we must hurry. Autumn is definitely under the curse of the portals. She has the smell of magic on her. She has no memory, and whatever her previous age, she has been transformed into a child. As her guardian, I would like to bind you two together."

Puck and the queen seemed to have a quick exchange of expressions until a silent understanding passed between them in that momentary pause. She looked at Autumn.

"This would magically help you both keep track of each other. If you are separated for any reason, you will always be able to be found by Puck. Also," she turned to Puck, "I can give you papers to help you travel securely as master and slave. It would be less suspicious if she is disguised." The queen smiled at Autumn. "This will only be a disguise for your safety. Trust Puck. He was once a school teacher, and he will take care of you."

"I am afraid that your plan would be best, but I detest slavery, even the image of it," grumbled Puck. "At least the magic bond will be there in a worst-case scenario, but the girl must be willing."

Autumn looked at both adults. She had just met them. She felt like she could trust them, but to be magically leashed to someone seemed drastic. Puck took the girl's hands.

"I know you must be confused and afraid, but I will try to help you get home."

Autumn jerked her head up and looked into Puck's eyes.

"I don't want to go home."

Puck looked at the queen, then back at the girl.

"What?"

"We must hurry, child." The queen looked around. "I feel eyes upon us." The queen waved her hand, reinforcing the dome around them. "This will help for now."

"I don't know why, but I know that I have no home and that I am looking for something. I can't do anything until I get my memories back. I will be bound if you will help me break this curse and help me find what I was searching for," the girl stated more confidently than she felt.

She didn't feel like she had much choice. It was either go with them or wander around alone.

Puck nodded.

"So be it," said the queen as she held out her hand. Puck placed his hand in hers. "Autumn, place your right hand over Puck's."

Autumn obeyed. As she touched Puck's hand, multicolored rays of light shot out of the queen's hand. A ring of writing appeared on Puck's and Autumn's wrists. The girl removed her hand from Puck's, and Puck picked up three pieces of paper from the Queen's hand. Autumn looked at the green symbols encircling her wrists. She felt anxious, hoping she hadn't just made a mistake.

The queen tiredly addressed them.

"I have helped you as much as I can, but now go. My magic will go with you for as long as possible, but it will fade soon. My hopes go with you as well."

The Banshee queen turn towards the lake, which moved out of her way revealing a hidden staircase. She walked down into the depths, the water closed over her, and she was gone.

### Thank you for reading

### The Adventures of Sage Goliad

### If you liked this book, please post a review at:

### www.amazon.com/author/laralee

### If you loved this book, explore the world of Gryphendale in:

Book by Lara Lee:

The Adventures of Sage Goliad

Gryphendale

The Shadow of the Gryphon

The Gryphon's Handmaiden

The Gryphon of Stone (Coming Soon in 2020)

The Secrets of Cinnamon Cinderguard (Coming Soon)

Fidelia (Coming Soon)

Illustrated:

Zip and the Golden Trombone

### About the Author

Lara Lee is the author of young adult fantasy fiction novels. Sometimes, she is also a graphic designer, wife, mother, and Sunday school teacher. After growing up in Florida with her head stuck in various books, she ran away to Oral Roberts University to obtain a Bachelor of Science degree in Graphic Design and a husband. Then, she worked professionally with the children's curriculum publisher, Mentoring Minds in Texas before following her husband on a crazy adventure in Scotland for four years. She has lived in three states and four countries and has visited even more destinations with an insatiable curiosity that shows up in her writing. Currently, she lives in Texas with her husband and two sons who all regularly participate in her misadventures and random schemes.

laraswanderings.wordpress.com

facebook.com/Gryphendale/

twitter.com/Gryphendale

goodreads.com/author/show/13773505.Lara_Lee
