 
Tranquil Fury, Book One

The Anti-Matter Chronicles

By P. G. Thomas

Written and Published by P.G. Thomas

Copyright 2014 & 2019 by P.G. Thomas

Dedicated to my Mother,

For all her support and encouragement over the years.

Originally edited by Adam Steel, e-mail: editor@poplarandpine.ca

Re-edited in 2016 & 2019

Cover Art by Paul Santana, e-mail: paul@ironkap.com

You can follow me on twitter: @PGTtheauthor

You can contact me on Facebook:

 https://www.facebook.com/The-Matter-Chronicles-886040318206439/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any reference to historical persons, fictional characters (print, movies, or television), actual products, musical groups, song titles, or similar is used fictitiously, without consent, to add an element of realism to this story. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

I want to extend a special thanks to my beta readers: Nancy Giberson, Chuck Lawrence, Shelley Myron, Dev Birbalsingh, David Shaw, Susan Karley, Alex Dimoski, and Peet.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please visit your favorite ebook retailer to purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Altered coordinators: The old-fashioned coordinator for was replaced with either as or because. To clarify this, a bold font identifies the new coordinators, signifying its modified role – or as some may consider it – a grammatical error, but done with purpose. Also, I have purposefully replaced em-dashes with en-dashes, as they punctuate sentences better when using text-to-speech programs.

### Books Written by P.G. Thomas

The Matter Chronicles is composed of three three trilogies:

Anti-Matter Chronicles

Book 1: Tranquil Fury [~240 pages, 89,000 words]

Book 2: Sky Elf [~270 pages, 96,000 words]

Book 3: Blood Bond [~330 pages, 120,000 words]

Gray-Matter Chronicles (release date: late spring 2020)

Book 1: Revenge [~260 pages, 103,000 words]

Book 2: Reset [~280 pages, 105,000 words]

Book 3: Residual [~390 pages, 145,000 words]

The Dark-Matter Chronicles (release date: late spring 2020)

Book 1: Phractured [~260 pages]

Book 2: Phragmented [~250 pages]

Book 3: Phyrrhic [~320 pages]

### Index

Chapter 01

Chapter 02

Chapter 03

Chapter 04

Chapter 05

Chapter 06

Chapter 07

Chapter 08

Chapter09

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

### Prolog

Six hours after the accident, people still filled the restaurant, as this was the only place to get a good look with the highway closed. The television inside was broadcasting the National News Network, and every fifteen minutes they returned to the unfolding story. When that happened, everybody would go quiet, turning to the screen with a piqued interest. After the anchor checked in with the live crew for updates, when none materialized, he read from the teleprompter.

At approximately eight-thirty this morning on Route 89, an explosion occurred. Even though all the facts remain unknown, we can report that every branch of the government is currently on-site, including the CIA, FBI, and Homeland Security. Our graphics department has created an animation of the current situation. This is an old aerial photograph of Route 89, showing the curve where it goes around the base of the mountain, including the four-hundred-foot long avalanche tunnel. When we digitize the current image over an old photo, the entrance and exits are identical, but it is now one-hundred and twenty-feet shorter. The midsection where the explosion occurred, where the damage should be, has disappeared. This animation demonstrates the situation. By removing the missing section and pushing the two sides together, we end up with a perfect representation of the current scene. The image changed to the live view. It's as if somebody removed a wedge out of an orange and pushed the two adjacent sides back together. The investigation continues...

It would be another two hours before any news agency mentioned the school bus inside the tunnel – or the six missing students.

### Chapter 1

As the school bus worked its way along the winding one-way road, passing through a tiny mountain valley, it arrived at the first stop. Standing at four-feet-ten, weighing one-hundred-twenty-pounds, you might think John was in the seventh grade and a junior in high school, yet he was far beyond the definition of average. Having skipped four grades, he also attended university classes once a week and in fact, could have already completed public school, but his parents wanted him to have a normal life. One unlike his father who had graduated from university at seventeen, but the intense collision of education and social exclusion had resulted in years of personal awkwardness. While that was the plan, his father's nemesis overshadowed John, **as** all the other students were seventeen, standing five-foot-four to eight, which meant he was fifty pounds lighter and twelve-inches shorter than most. However, his small size was not the problem; it was his heightened intelligence, aided by an eidetic memory, meaning he remembered every word, eliminating the need to study. Nobody physically bullied him – well, not since moving to this community four years ago – but still, he never managed to fit in. Amplifying the social problems was the swift progression through the lower grades, meaning any friends made one year were forgotten the next – when promoted past them.

At an early age, he learned to protect himself by executing several survival tricks, and one practice included sitting behind the bus driver, a habit developed in the city, and while there were many more, this was the beginning of his daily routine. However, he had a new problem. At the start of the school year, his mother purchased a pair of glasses with big round frames, thinking they made him look _cute_. One day, after forgetting the regular glasses, life became more difficult when everybody saw the new ones, **as** all started calling him _Harry_. So far this year, he had lost six pairs of regular eye glasses, causing his parents to wonder about him, but he had recently discovered that the senior sports teams had put a bounty on them (dead or alive), and another pair disappeared last week.

Nature has a way of maintaining balance in the universe, ensuring that every force has an equal and opposing influence. John's was intelligence, which was necessary since he lacked size, strength, and confidence. If there was an opposing and equalizing force, it was the next student on the bus route.

When Eric stood on the first step, John always thought the bus tilted. At six-foot-six and two-hundred-twenty-pounds, he was practically a foot taller than an average student, including a few coaches, and sixty-pounds heavier than most. Known to his teammates as _Mount Eric_ , he was a fixture on every playing field and occasionally, the captain of two teams at the same time. His entire family lived for sports, **as** a legacy of six relatives currently resided in various halls of fame. Growing up, his family always said he had big shoes to fill, shoes he not only filled but also rapidly outgrew. With a large, hulking frame, a confident walk, and dark short-cropped hair, he was one student that everybody knew. Overall, while not a bad character, his grades lacked, which is why few people asked about them. As usual, whenever Eric saw John wearing the new glasses, he always said something like; _Harry, did you remember your broom?_

Heading towards the next stop, the student standing at the side of the road threw an object into the opposite ditch. On several occasions, John had seen the glass-filled ditch, and it was evident Zack favored gin for breakfast. Labeled as a loner, nobody really knew him, **as** even the other kids labeled the same also ignored him. He was that one student that all the teachers described with the opening, _if only he applied himself_. While he was the same height and weight as the rest of the boys, he had long, black hair cascading over his shoulders. As usual, he was dressed in his favorite color: black. Honestly, nobody had ever seen him in any other color, but he had only relocated here four years ago, moving in with an uncle for legal reasons. In addition, nobody had ever seen him smile, as it was like his face had lost all ability to express feeling – turning him into an emotionless zombie. While considered odd, he was consistent, including his below average grades. True to form, he stepped onto the bus with an unfinished science project due the day before. Going to the last seat on the left, after opening the window, he sat with his back to the aisle, balancing a large plastic case on his lap.

Around the next bend, a young girl and her brother waited for the bus on the opposite sides of the driveway – again. Considering they were twins, one might think they would be civil to each other, but while sharing that one special day, they were opposites in almost every aspect of their lives. As the bus stopped, all five-foot-four and one-hundred pounds of Lauren stomped in, pitching herself into the second seat on the right. When Logan sat down behind, the look on her face stated the displeasure of his choice.

Except for a one-inch-wide purple-dyed streak caressing the contour of Lauren's cheek, a ponytail tied with a similar colored ribbon contained the rest of her dark hair. Since it was her sister's favorite, every day she always included it in her outfit: a skirt, blouse, jacket, or perhaps a brooch. The reason for the honor; her sister had died in a car accident two years earlier, and even though a simple tribute, behind her back, the other students called her the Purple Princess. While aware of the nickname, she cared neither for it nor for the people who used it, but she also had a confident presence, including a preceding charismatic aura, which resulted in everybody noticing when she entered a room.

When Logan did the same, few if any ever remembered seeing him, which was odd since he was a hard character to miss. His dark hair was always a tangled mess of curls as if allergic to combs or brushes. Putting on a clean pressed shirt, by the time he was at the bottom of the stairs, it would be wrinkled and stained (the only way his whites stayed white, was leaving them in the packaging). While able to leave his house in a presentable condition, by the time he arrived at school, it looked like he had slept in his clothes. At five-feet-six and one-hundred-forty pounds, he was a natural disaster that took great satisfaction in annoying his sister.

Arriving at the last stop, the nest student waited at the side of the road, sitting in a temporary wheelchair with his mother beside him. Chewing on the dyed strands of purple hair, Lauren opened a book to look occupied.

Ryan was the reason they rode the short bus this year, **as** he had been in a major car accident. After two years of complicated procedures, including intense physiotherapy, the hospital had discharged him. Though now eighteen, he had failed to graduate, **as** the accident had held him back in many ways. His injuries were extensive: shattered leg bones, major breaks to his pelvis, ribs, arms, and as well, severe back and neck trauma. Uncertain at first if he would ever walk again, determined doctors and physiotherapists had restored mobility to his legs, allowing short distances traveled with the aid of a walker. Despite a full year of therapy ahead, he could now get in and out of the wheelchair unassisted. The crueler kids at school called him Frankenstein, **as** there was no way to conceal all the scars. Hands, arms, and even his face retained the testimony of that fateful event: evidence he could not escape, and every night, it crept back into his dreams. When episodes of depression began, because of the extended hospital stay, the doctors thought it best to continue the therapy at a local clinic, permitting attendance of regular classes three out of five days.

When the ramp retracted, John and Eric greeted him, but with Lauren present, he only nodded back. Turning onto Route 89, they headed towards the town, and in the distance, the opening to the long avalanche tunnel waited.

Entering the metal passageway, darkened by malfunctioning lights, they approached the outer bend. That was when the driver saw somebody lighting flares in the left-hand lane, warning other vehicles of a potential hazard. Just past those, a motionless truck appeared in the headlights, and after passing both, it shocked the driver to see a speeding vehicle in the other lane, heading towards the obstruction. Even though what happened next only took a matter of seconds, they would barely remember seeing the lit flares or recall the military insignia on the motionless truck. Looking at the screaming bus driver, they all, excluding Zack, watched the speeding truck race towards the stalled vehicle in disbelief. As the horrific crash echoed in the confined space, which channeled the fire, a brilliant flash of light burst forward, followed by a sonic boom.

### Chapter 2

Finding himself spread eagle and flat on his face, John was beyond confused. Sitting up and feeling like somebody had kicked the crap out of him, tall, sweeping grass blocked his view, except for the blue sky. He panned from right to left, seeing only green or blue, **as** the entire landscape was absent of mountains, which was the last thing remembered. Astonished, wondering if it was a dream, he pinched himself, and failing to wake, he lightly slapped his face. Feeling perspiration, he looked up to discover the source of the new discomfort, three unique suns: a red light low in the sky, a large yellow sun in the noon position, and a bright blue dot between the two. Dumbfounded, after rubbing his eyes, he still saw the same three orbs.

Turning around, the shock knocked him backwards. Towering in front was a mountain or part of it, which reminded him of the diorama models he used to build – but full scale. Starting at the snow-covered top, he scanned down the weatherworn exposed rock, ending where the tunnel began, and even the aged dead trees remained rooted to it. The peculiar thing was that it looked like a laser removed it, **as** the inner-mountainside was perfectly smooth. With his eyes adjusting to the dark shadows inside the tunnel, he saw the school bus that was missing the cab. Having no front wheels for support, it was at a downward angle resting on Route 89. On closer inspection, it shared the same peculiarity of the mountain, appearing to have suffered the same laser-like cuts. It was beyond obvious that the odd configuration of the bus, road, tunnel, and mountain were foreign to the extensive grasslands.

Reality abruptly dawned on him, "Where are the others?" Hearing a moan, he saw Lauren sit up, "Are you okay?"

She had a confused look, "I think so. What happened?"

"Not sure."

While Logan was lying on the floor, Eric, who had been sitting behind, was only partially on the floor, **as** the space between the seats was insufficient for him to slide completely off his own. Emerging from an extreme state of disorientation, both tried to gain an upright position, and the two others helped their fallen classmates to the front of the vehicle. Returning to the back, they observed the chaos inside; broken windows, jagged metal holes bulleted through the bus sides, and a few seats had tiny smoldering flames. Distracted by his assignment, Zack, lying crumpled on top of his project, had failed to witness the event. The large case balanced on his lap had both protected and injured him, **as** intense heat from the open window had melted the plastic to his body. Following a brief examination of Zack, who was unconscious, John determined severe burns were the injuries extent.

Before shock took its hold on Eric and Logan, John called out, "Can you please get Zack out of here?"

While still dazed, Eric and Logan lifted the limp body to take it outside. Then John saw the breathing but unconscious Ryan lying on his back, looking like a discarded rag doll, and his mangled, broken wheelchair was dangling from the open emergency door. While not appearing to have any broken bones, pools of blood were forming under his legs. Crawling into the back, John tried to revive him but failed.

Shock would have to wait its turn. With a second bus mate injured, Eric tried to take charge. He barked out his order, "Get out of there, so we can move him!" "NO!" replied John. Pulling out his Leatherman tool, after making several cuts into Ryan's pants, he handed it to Eric, "Take apart one of the seats! We need a flat moveable surface to transport him." Knowing John had completed several university medical classes, they realized he was clearly the most qualified to help. "Lauren, see if the first-aid kit is under the front seat. If it is, bring it."

As Eric and Logan disassembled a seat, John ripped open the blood-soaked pants to expose the injury. Applying pressure, using whatever passed for a dressing, he waited for the simple medical kit, and upon receiving it, replaced the bloody cloth with sanitized bandages to slow the bleeding. When the seat was free, he told Eric to clear the emergency exit, including sliding the piece of wood through the door under Ryan.

After they carried him to the front of the bus, with space to move, John went into action. "He has mean gashes on his legs that need stitches. Lauren, do you have any sewing needles and thread in your purse? Lauren, what's wrong?"

"Yes, I'll get it."

As John cut Ryan's pants, he called to Eric, "I need you and Logan to hold him down. He might be unconscious, but this will hurt, and I have to stop the bleeding, or he'll go into shock."

An hour later, with the injuries to Ryan's legs treated, his breathing was once again rhythmic and calm.

"Eric, we need something to keep them warm," began John. "Can you cut fabric off of the other seats, to use as blankets?"

Lauren handed John a bottle of water, "Here, have a drink."

"No, we should collect all the food and water and put it into a community pool, **as** we will need to ration it until we find..." Stopping, John scanned the grasslands from horizon to horizon, seeing nothing in sight. "We seriously need to ration everything we have."

"Look, with this heat and how hard you've been working," persisted Lauren, "you're not thinking smart, so we can't afford to have you pass out from heat exhaustion. Please, take a drink."

Knowing she was right, he took a big gulp of water and spilt some onto his shirt. That was when he saw the broken glasses with the round frames in a pocket. Immediately, recalling his mother and father, tears formed.

Lauren's voice trembled, "John, it'll be okay."

Returning with the seat covers, Eric laid them on top of Ryan and Zack. Carrying wood that had fallen off the tunnel roof, Logan asked if anybody had fire. Rifling through Zack's pockets, Eric found the lighter and tossed it to Logan, who was now gathering dried grass.

Eric held out his hand walking by John. "Here, I found these." It was a pair of his regular eyeglasses – the same pair that had _disappeared_ the week before.

When a small blaze provided heat, they gathered around it, and after several minutes of silence, Eric spoke. "Does anybody have any idea on what happened?"

With his head bent forward, John felt everybody staring. Looking up, he was uncertain of what to say. _What the hell? Uninhabited grasslands? Three suns in the sky? This isn't Earth! What can I say to make any sense of this? Limited water and food, two injured; we're screwed_. He gathered his thoughts, "My best guess? That accident opened a wormhole that consumed everything in its area of effect: the bus, tunnel, and even the mountain, pulling it all through and depositing it here. While this might sound ridiculous, those three suns in the sky, they're all the evidence I need. We're not on Earth, and where this is, I don't even have the foggiest of ideas, but I doubt if we're in our own solar system." In a twisted sense, he was disappointed. While he never dreamed of visiting another world, this one was so plain he though he may have been in the Canadian parries. Everywhere he looked, he only saw green and blue, meaning the world most likely had oceans somewhere. _Better than crash landing in a swamp, I guess._

"How the hell can this happen?" demanded Eric.

"I really don't know," began John. "The theory behind a wormhole usually involves a massive amount of focused energy, generated by a dying star. However, there's no other concept to explain how we traveled from there to here."

"John, how do we get back?" pleaded Lauren.

"Weren't you listening? Get back?" He wiped away forming tears, "We don't! We're stranded here, unless we find somebody that has interstellar space travel capabilities. You can check around the mountain to see if there's a pair of ruby slippers sticking out. If you do, we put them on and wish our way back home. I hate to be the one to break this news, but getting back isn't an option. Without space travel or another wormhole... we will need an amazing magic trick. Hell, even then, it could take forever to find our solar system."

Lowering her head, Lauren hoped if nobody saw the tears forming that they would go away.

"There must be somebody here who can help?" suggested Logan.

"Those possibilities are limitless."

"Are there aliens here?" asked Logan.

"Aliens, monsters, or nobody," began John, "but I certainly have no idea."

Standing, Eric scanned the horizons, hoping to see somebody or something, but it was the same as when first seen. "What do we do?"

"We either wait here or go looking for somebody," replied John. "All the rescue books would suggest we need to stay at the scene of the accident. However, those first responders are back home in what's left of the tunnel, so I don't imagine they'll find us here."

Between sobs, Lauren eked out, "I don't want to be here!"

Frustration and shock gnawed at each in different ways, but they found Eric's exposed nerve first, "Call your mother and have her pick you up."

That was the last straw, and with tears streaming down, she stood and headed towards the bus, crying louder as the separated distance increased.

Logan had a stunned look, "You don't have to be such a bastard, Eric."

Stumbling through the long grass, Lauren headed for the bus and sat down on the front seat.

"I'll apologize when we get home."

Following her, Logan was unsure about what to do or say. Sitting down beside her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, letting her bury her sobs into his shoulder. Even though he wanted to say something, staring across the never-ending expanse, his thoughts and words resembled the scene: empty. However, realizing this was not the time for obvious lies, he reassured her by tightening his grip and wiping away his tears as fast as they formed.

Eric stared at the small flames, "Can we build a signal fire?"

"Look around! If this isn't some elaborate trick, we're screwed! There is nobody to call, no cell phone towers, nobody to help! I don't know how it happened, but we are not on Earth! This isn't some special drill at football practice, okay. We have been transported light years away from Earth with no way back."

"We need to figure out a plan, so don't have a hissy fit on me!"

John sighed, "We don't have enough wood for a fire that size. Even if we did, will anybody see it?"

"Then we need to find them. Which way should we go?"

"How can we carry Zack and Ryan?"

Eric was getting discouraged, "The ref hasn't called the end to the game yet. What if I head out by myself and try to find somebody to bring back here?" Then he looked up into the sky, "Which sun should I follow?"

John shook his head, knowing they would share a similar orbit pattern, "Take your pick."

"John, we need to do something."

Clenched tightly together, John's eyelids were trying to hold back tears. "Look, I don't know what the right answer is. I only understand what happens when we do something wrong."

"We have to do something—" Kicking the ground in frustration, Eric headed towards the bus, and reaching the tunnel, he immediately began climbing the mountain. Once perched halfway up, he scanned the horizons, but thinking about his family, tears blurred his vision.

Sitting alone on the ground, John pulled out his smart phone, and swiping to the folder containing pictures, he sighed. "I'm sorry Mom and Dad, but I have to get rid of these, as they will only make sad. I have to grow up now." Pushing the delete function, the folder disappeared, and he started crying uncontrollably.

When the first sun set an hour later, the twins returned to the dwindling fire with more wood and the backpacks. John, who had cried so hard it felt like his tear ducts had drained, failed to notice until she put her arm around his shoulders. Trying not to be embarrassed, he saw her tear-stained face with large red puffy eyes, which eased some of his discomforts.

"There must be irony in that," said Lauren. "Mount Eric climbed a mountain."

Before replying, they heard rocks falling, bouncing off the metal tunnel. Eric was rushing after them, sliding down, pointing – possibly to the south. Standing up and looking behind, in the distance, they saw something heading towards them.

It took Eric thirty minutes to rejoin the group, "Logan, Lauren, hide in the grass beside Zack and Ryan. If they make any noise, cover their mouths. John, you and I will do the talking. Give me that knife-tool thingy, just in case."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"I may not be the smartest in the group, but I understand teams. Until we get out of this, we need to deploy our best offensive line, according to what we're facing."

### Chapter 3

Stopping on top of a small hill, they waited for what looked like an unimpressive buckboard-style wagon. As they did, Eric pulled out a quarter. "Heads he's an alien, or tails he's being chased by them."

"Isn't there a third choice?"

Flipping the coin, it spun in the air and falling to the ground, landed on its edge in a small mound of soft dirt. With apprehension building, their gaze shifted from the coin to the wagon, and as it inched closer, the two saw six-legged oxen pulling the wagon, causing fears of aliens to materialize. As the distance decreased, they saw a plain, young looking man with a thick beard, wearing ordinary clothes and a black robe, sitting on the bench. Even though it relieved both to see a bipedal figure on the seat, the six-legged oxen caused concerns. When he arrived, the traveler yanked on the reins, halting the beasts, before stepping down. Walking forward, he made a hand gesture to the boys and spoke in an indecipherable language.

"Do you understand what he's saying?" asked Eric.

"No."

Stopping, the stranger made a different gesture before speaking again.

Eric sighed, "Haven't you studied any languages?"

"I speak several." English, Italian, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, and German all failed to start a conversation. Not even Latin, the oldest, or one of the most recent yielded any results.

"Was the last one Klingon?"

John nodded.

Eric rolled his eyes, "So how long will it take you to learn his language?"

As John had been talking to the stranger, he pulled out a small jar, applying the contents to his ears and lips, "That will be unnecessary," he blurted out in perfect English.

They both turned to the stranger and in unison said, "Pardon?"

"My name is Mirtza. I was wondering if I can be of assistance?"

"You speak English?" stated John.

"No, here take this ointment and spread it on your ears like this." Mirtza dipped his finger into the small jar and demonstrated. "Then apply it to your lips and throat."

"What does it do?" asked Eric, who had a perplexed look.

"It has special properties that change sounds you hear into words you understand or sounds you make into words that others recognize."

"Bullshit!" exclaimed Eric.

"No, I can assure you there is no cow excrement in the jar. Look, it is apparent you are not from here. This ointment was developed so different races can communicate easily. I assume it will be quicker than teaching me this Cling-on you speak."

"How can that be?" asked John with a puzzled look.

Mirtza's reply was simple, "It is magic."

"There's no such thing," advised Eric. "What's going on here?"

He gave them a stern look, "I am uncertain of the precise magical properties of the ointment, but it will make talking much easier."

Eric looked down at John, "You first."

"Why me?"

"If something happens to you, I can carry you back. Can you carry me?"

After John stepped forward to receive the small ceramic jar, applying it as instructed, he looked up at Eric, "Now what?"

Recognizing the alien speech from the TV shows, Eric suggested, "Say something in Klingon."

"Well, not very good. Only learn to please my father," replied John as requested.

Eric never blinked an eye, "Well, I guess it works. How do you feel?"

"Everything seems fine."

"I realize this may be a lot to grasp, but you need to trust me. Even though this place looks safe, I can assure you that it is not, so we must move."

"Where are we?" asked John, even though the last comment produced concerns.

"These lands are part of Calicon, and we are currently in what is called the Newlands."

"Where is this world?" asked Eric.

"I have little understanding of the question, but from your appearance, I would guess you are from someplace... not from here."

"Where are we?" repeated Eric

"Look, my young friend, we are in the Newlands of Calicon, and I am unsure of what else I can tell you."

"Who would name something Newlands?"

"Canada has a province called Newfoundland: new – found – land," advised John.

"What's Canada?" asked Eric.

Mirtza turned to leave.

"Where're you going?" asked John.

"I thought you needed help, but it now appears you have a greater interest in geography, so I will leave you to your... whatever it is you are doing."

"Wait," blurted out John.

"Do you want help or not?"

Eric said, "No."

"Yes," replied John.

"So then you would like some... a little help?"

Cupping his hand to the side of his mouth, John looked up to Eric. "Ryan and Zack need medical attention, and we need food and water. Let's see if we can get a ride somewhere."

"We have four friends with us," began Eric, "and two are hurt. Can you still help?"

"Get in, and we shall see."

"That's okay, we'll walk," replied Eric.

Jumping back into the wagon, Mirtza gave the oxen reins a tug, heading towards the strange site.

Following cautiously alongside, Eric called out to the twins, "Lauren, Logan, this is Mirtza who has offered to help."

Clenching a piece of wood, like a club, Logan was the first to stand.

Without exchanging introductions, he jumped from the wagon and sprinted over to Ryan. As he knelt over the body, Eric's looming shadow hovered above.

"Your friend is in a great deal of pain." Pivoting, he looked at Zack, "This one also has serious injuries, but I have medicines to provide relief from the pain." With that, he headed back to the wagon.

Lauren was surprised, "This is great. He speaks English?"

"I'll explain that later," advised Eric.

Returning with a bag, Mirtza rummaged through the contents, pulling out three ceramic vials, before kneeling beside Ryan.

"Whoa! What're you doing?" shouted Eric.

"These will help your friends to rest and assist with their healing. Please, trust me, **as** I mean you no harm." Even though Eric remained, Mirtza placed a few drops into Ryan's mouth, and from the second, he pulled out a berry, crushing it over Ryan's upper lip. Lastly, a third contained a liquid he administered to Ryan's eyes. He then moved over to Zack, repeating the procedures, as the others formed into a circle a short distance away.

"Is this the right thing to be doing?" asked Lauren. "Can we trust him?"

"I don't know if we have a choice," advised John.

Retrieving blankets from the wagon, Mirtza placed them on Ryan and Zack. "We should leave this place since it may not be safe."

"What do you mean?" asked Logan.

"In every place where I should have found people, I only found deserted buildings. If I had answers, I would share them, but I cannot reply to your questions – because I have found none to answer mine. I think it best to leave these grasslands, and your friends need healing beyond my abilities."

Turning back to the group, Lauren whispered. "I don't like this, **because** it seems too good to be true. You remember what happens in horror movies when the stranded kids get into the first car that stops. He might be lying about nobody else being around."

"I disagree. It's four against one," whispered Eric. "If a larger group arrived, we wouldn't be able to defend ourselves. Right now, we have the advantage of numbers."

John nodded in agreement.

Overhearing the last comments, Mirtza replied. "If you wish to stay, stay. I can leave water skins, blankets, and a shovel."

"Why do we need a shovel?" asked Lauren.

"So you can bury your friends."

"Where will we go?" asked Eric.

"To the Northlands," began Mirtza, "because that is where the most talented healers live."

"I don't like this." Lauren was on edge, "Can't we wait for somebody else."

John shook his head in disagreement, "If Ryan and Zack weren't hurt, I might agree, but we need to consider them first."

"How long to get to these Northlands?" asked Eric.

"Two days."

"I don't think we have any choice," advised Eric.

"I will leave you alone to decide, so I can have a look at this odd thing," Mirtza said pointing to the bus. "If you have not loaded your friends onto the wagon by the time I return, it will mean you want to stay, and I will leave what I can, including a shovel." Upon reaching the tunnel, he entered it, making his way to the other side. Passing by the blackened bus, he struggled to understand both the odd metal object and the damage to it. _Where did this come from? How did it get here?_ When sure he was out of sight, he bent down to collect a few pieces of the pavement before heading back. Returning to the wagon, Zack and Ryan were in the back, including the six backpacks and the first-aid kit. "I am glad, **as** I fear you may have died out here if you stayed."

Climbing into the wagon, Eric sat up front, and the rest found places in the back.

Reaching under the wagon seat, Mirtza pulled out a small box, and walking his fingers through the envelopes contained within, he selected three. After retrieving a small stone from each, he removed a golden bracelet from his left wrist. With his left hand holding it at a slight angle, he dropped the first item through the second, which disappeared as it traveled through the wrist hole. Holding it upright, a shimmering circle floated from the bracelet, and moving forward, it grew in size until twenty-feet in diameter, stopping thirty-feet in front of the wagon. Growing brighter, as the image dropped, it sank until the ground concealed the bottom third. Upon first appearing, you could see the grass on the other side of the ring, but changing to a haze, a new image appeared. After the first stabilized, he dropped another stone through the bracelet, creating a second ring that formed like the first, and then repeated the actions again. As the haze in the rings focused, the first showed a mountain range, the second a dirt road, and the last was an image of an ocean beach. Giving the oxen harness a snap, the wagon headed towards the center ring, and the entire time, Lauren, Logan, Eric, and John observed with open mouths and wonderment. As it traveled through, the landscape changed from long flowing vegetation to short grasses with the occasional large patch of earth, including a dirt road. Once through, they all looked back at the single ring, containing the image of the grassy field inside, which shimmered before fading away.

"What happened?" asked John.

"You have no magic where you are from?"

John vigorously shook his head, "No!"

Stopping, Mirtza turned to face them, "Look, I understand you have many questions, and I also have the same. We are heading to the healers in the Northlands, and the magic portal is the quickest way to get there. Without it, it would take months, months your friends most likely do not have. I need to think, so please be quiet." Turning towards the front, he snapped the harness.

Stepping into the back, Eric helped to move Zack and Ryan so everybody sat comfortably, ensuring he was directly behind the driver.

Fear filled Lauren's eyes as she whispered, "I don't like this."

Palming John's knife, he whispered back, "Just stay calm."

Pulling out a bottle of water, she poured a little into Zack and Ryan's mouths before feeling their foreheads. "Fever! Does anybody have any extra clothing?" Opening his backpack, Eric pulled out a T-shirt, and ripping it into two, he gave her the pieces. Splashing water on the torn shirt, she placed them on their foreheads.

"That was weird?" stated Eric in a hushed voice. "John, what happened?"

He was perplexed. "We traveled through another wormhole. Traveling through two wormholes in one day, can you even grasp what the odds of that are?"

"Actually," began Logan, "didn't we see four today?"

Then Eric smiled, "It looks like John's tutoring is paying off."

After Logan raised his hand, he started bending his fingers back, counting as he did, until only the middle digit remained upright.

John was shaking his head in disbelief, "Magic bracelets opening wormholes, and magic ointments translating words. This... it's not possible."

Eric held up his hands, "Right now, we need to think of Ryan and Zack, so everybody remain calm."

Friend was not an applicable term to describe them; they were bus mates, four young adults, ripped out of their world, who shared very little in common. Recalling family images, none desired to speak, being too afraid of crying and appearing weak. In quiet, they nibbled at their lunch, except for Eric who watched Mirtza. Lacking knowledge about what was happening or why, the shock transformed into an emotionless void of loss and regret, and the four watched the wagon trip consume the mundane grasslands, but consuming their thoughts, the unknown waiting for them.

### Chapter 4

Driving the wagon, Mirtza also considered the confusion surrounding the current events. _Three years ago, I was_ a simple _son of_ a farmer, growing roots _, feeding pigs, and chasing girls. One day Ma and Pa say, 'Times are changing,_ and _farming is a thing of the past. You_ needs _an education.' Before you know it, we are in the big city checking out schools, and they enroll me in one, but to top it off, they cannot afford to pay for it, so they cut a deal on roots and pigs. As it is not enough, I have to work off part of the fees. Being outside all day was fun, but sitting in that classroom, not fun. After a year, they tell me to go to the Southland: find specimens, make maps, talk to people, and take notes on anything interesting. Fine, it was better than sitting in a classroom. They told me not to take the same path back, and then those damn mountains: no roads, just_ trails and _paths, so I became lost. Up, down, up, down for so long and when I get out, I am in a desert. Damn talent. A year and a half later, I start recognizing landmarks, but I cannot find a living soul. What happened? Then there was that huge bang, so loud that I almost soiled myself. I go to investigate and make notes. I know the direction but have no idea on what I am looking for. Then, in the middle of that grassland, I see a mountain. Well, that definitely falls into the category of 'interesting.' More interesting, we have people, but not just people – foreign outlanders. Well, I cannot leave them there. Two are injured, and to top it off, they do not trust me. Sure, I have heard magic up close and far away. I might not know the_ particular _spell, but I know magic. I hear it every time I activate a spell, damn talent! Why could I not have a gift for growing roots or raising pigs? I would welcome that. Better yet, for chasing girls._

Turning, he looked at the six, "We will have to sleep under the stars tonight, so we will make camp in a few hours." As the last sun approached the horizon, he gave up trying to make sense of the weird turn of events and the new role now played. Pulling the wagon to the side of the road, he jumped out to stretch his legs and called to Eric, "Please gather firewood, and I will get the food ready." Lauren, still wary, stayed on the opposite side of the wagon. Sensing her discomfort, he reached under the seat and pulled out blankets. "You four can sleep under the wagon tonight." Walking to the front, after unhitching the oxen, he tied them to a tree.

Still deep in thought, Mirtza headed to the pile of firewood the boys had gathered. Pulling out a flint and knife, a few strikes ignited a small spark in the bundle of dry weeds, which he blew on until a flame grew before adding wood. After gaining a sufficient size, he went to the wagon to retrieve a medium-sized chest. From it, he pulled out meats, biscuits, fruits, and more. Retrieving a water jug and a similar chest from the wagon, he returned to the fire, and from the second, he pulled out pots, pans, and similar, including a grill that was longer than the box was deep. From a bag, he added vegetables to one pot and placed a handful of beans into what looked like a percolating device, which he also placed on the grill after adding water.

Walking back towards the wagon, he stopped and looked at Lauren, Logan, Eric, and John, who were staring with their eyes wide and slack-jawed. _What am I supposed to do?_ "Forgive me. I forgot that you are unaccustomed to being around magic, **as** I have been living this way for almost two years, so I guess I am being a terrible host. In the haste to leave the grasslands, we failed to make formal introductions. My name is Mirtza, the son of a pig and root farmer, and I guess, a magic student. I met the big and little one earlier, but you never told me your names."

While uncertain of their host, Eric also realized the best defense was to avoid letting your opponent think their plays would work, but then again, he failed to understand what plays the opposition might be planning. Still, confidence trumps cowardice, so he stepped forward. "My name is Eric," and he held out his hand. Mirtza, looking at him, mimicked the position. Eric grabbed his hand, giving him a strong handshake, possibly too strong.

Pulling his hand back, he rubbed it, "I assume that is a greeting?"

Hesitating as she stepped forward, Lauren introduced herself, Logan, and John. Then Eric pointed to the wagon, naming Zack and Ryan.

"Yes, we should check on your friends." Retrieving the bag from the front, Mirtza examined Ryan and Zack, and from inside, he withdrew the vials from when first treating them, repeating the process.

"Are they going to be okay?" asked Lauren.

"Tomorrow, we will meet others who are more skilled in the healing arts than I am. We will keep them warm and dry tonight, so they will be fine." Boiling pots announced the meal was ready. "Eric, can you please bring the large trunk from the back of the wagon to the fire?"

Not only did he bring it over, but also being helpful, he opened it. It was empty, except for little golden figures attached to the inside surfaces. "I must have brought the wrong one... but it was the only one?"

Mirtza closed the lid, and reopening it, he pulled out a stack of plates. Repeating the actions, he continued to retrieve the remaining items for all. He looked up at the four, who were once again speechless, "Oh, I am sorry. I am so used to this that I never give it any thought. I will explain it later, so please sit down." Pulling the beans and fried meats from the fire, he advised them, "Please, help yourselves."

Going to the back of the wagon, Lauren grabbed Eric's backpack, which she handed him, and whispered, "You should eat your lunch in case the food is drugged." Even though starving, he nodded in agreement.

Mirtza saw what was happening, "Look, you can trust me, **as** I mean you no harm. I will eat this just like you. There is nothing wrong with it, but if you prefer not to, it is your choice."

There is a median in every conflict: after erecting all the safeguards to achieve a desired conclusion, you need to accept the unknown. As starvation was not an option, they hesitantly filled a plate with food and tentatively waited for another to taste it, except for Eric. Logan accepted it without hesitation, and showing no signs of distress, the others became more brazen. While different tasting, it was indescribably good, including the buns and fruits that were both fresh and delicious. After finishing, grabbing a mug, Mirtza reached for the percolating pot that was the source of a caffeine-like aroma. The rest, excluding Eric, seeing this did the same. Logan and Lauren, having both consumed coffee before, had different opinions about the beverage. While Lauren could take it or leave it, Logan was a caffeine addict; warm or cold, it called to him. Even though his family had offered John coffee before, he had never accepted, but with all the others holding out a mug, he willingly joined in.

Lauren took a sip and smiled. John, wanting to fit in, first tested the temperature with a finger before taking a mouthful. With his eyes opening wide, his face went flush, and turning away from everybody, the liquid exploded from him. Turning back, his eyes were watering, "In the name of all things holy, why would you... why would you... what the hell is this? Have you tried cleaning the pot?"

Logan, now cautious, took a sip and then a mouthful. "Sweet mother, you need to give me some of those beans. Man, this is the nectar of rock stars. Damn, this stuff has a bite."

Holding back a smile, Lauren said, "It's a little strong. Do you have anything to lessen the bite, **as** my brother so enthusiastically put it?"

Reaching into the first trunk, he pulled out a jar of honey, which Lauren added to the mug until the sweet taste sated her gag reflexes. By that point, Logan was asking for a refill, and John was on all fours, coughing, barking, sweating, and making promises he would never keep.

Mirtza looked at Lauren, Logan, Eric, and John's butt. "I was a little rude earlier, and for that, I apologize. As your host, let me tell you my story, and you can then tell me about your travels." _What the am I supposed to do?_ "Unlike you, I am from here. I have celebrated twenty-five dates of birth, starting on a farm in the Newlands, south of where we met. About fifty years ago, trading ships showed up in our capital, and they were eager for any goods. They traded bags of gold for food, lumber, and anything else we sold. With the Bright Coast being densely populated, people headed out to the Newlands, including my parents, to clear land, sell the lumber, and then grow crops. While the Newlands expanded over the years, we could not produce enough to satisfy them. They have been showing up for so long, I am unsure if any remember why they started trading in the first place. As I mentioned earlier, my parents were proud root and pig farmers, but with the Newlands expanding and cities growing, they thought better opportunities were available. Thus, they enrolled me in a school of magic three years ago." He then explained the school, including the arranged deals of both paying his tuition with food and labor. He continued his story of the southern trip, concluding with, "Upon my return, I stumbled upon you six. Now, if you have questions about pigs and roots, I am very qualified to give solid answers. Beyond that, the only thing I can add is this; what I know is only exceeded by what I do not know." He checked the reactions to see how much they believed. Yes, it was a sanitized and shortened version of the truth, but he had to say something. "Now, tell me your story."

Even though Eric started, he soon stumbled and asked John to continue. However, sufficient references that both worlds shared also eluded him.

In the end, Mirtza shook his head and agreed that he understood. "Well, I knew your story would interest me, but I will need time to consider a better word to describe it. If you had found me in your lands, I am sure I would have questions. What do you want to know?"

Lauren was first, "Why are you helping us?"

"Why would I not? My parents raised me to be considerate of others. It would have been wrong to leave you to die in the grasslands. Do you not agree?"

"How do we know we can trust you?" continued Lauren.

"I imagine I will have to earn it over time, but if you like, we can wait here tomorrow for any length of time to see if somebody else arrives. However, I should warn you, that time is better spent going to the healers."

Lauren refused to let go, "Why do you trust us?"

"Well, I guess, in the middle of the night, you could run off with the wagon, but I doubt if you have knowledge on where to go. Your friends need help, so I am trying to be that help."

"When you were on your travels, you mentioned getting lost? Why didn't you use that portal bracelet trick to get back?" asked John.

"It requires a unique stone to direct the magic. In the Bright Coast where the school is, none exists. I only had a few unique ones, and one led to the Northlands. All the others I gathered on my trip through the south. It is late, and we should get rest, **as** tomorrow will be a long day."

Getting up, after Mirtza collected the dirty plates and mugs, he placed them back into the chest, and even though John offered to wash them, he replied it was unnecessary. After telling them to make their sleeping arrangements under the wagon, he checked on Zack and Ryan. Then, grabbing a blanket, he went up to bed down with the oxen.

As the four were lying under the wagon, they heard Mirtza's silent whisper, "Protect against threats."

Lauren was still concerned, "We should post..." but a long yawn ended the sentence, and shortly, all four were asleep.

*******

Opening one eye, sounds of Mirtza preparing the morning meal woke Lauren. Without moving, she watched everything, wondering if he would slip up. Even though the food from the night before was apparently drug-free, and even though nothing happened during the night, she still failed to trust him. Hearing Logan yawn, she witnessed him follow the strange aroma. Eric was the next to rise, followed by John. Realizing that there were too many people watching, she knew he would be on his guard, so she crawled out from under the wagon.

"Where are we?"

Turning, she saw Zack trying to sit up, but a harrowing pain-filled curse interrupted his efforts. Rolling into a fetal position, he reached under the blanket and was shocked to touch the hard plastic. Attempting to remove it caused excruciating pain, which resulted in tears of discomfort. Taking a few minutes to catch his breath, when he raised himself, the others had gathered around.

Lauren launched into a rough explanation, "We were in a strange accident yesterday that hurt you. That plastic case blocked most of the explosion, but you have bad burns from the melted plastic."

Zack looked puzzled, "Explosion? Where are the fire trucks and ambulances?"

"Something happened, and we don't know where we are," replied Eric.

"Well, this really sucks. What the hell! Where are we?"

"I see your friend is improving. Hello, Zack, I am Mirtza."

"Does everybody see the weird dude in the black robe, or am I hallucinating?"

"Everything's fine," replied Logan. "Mirtza found us, and he's taking us to doctors."

Zack, with a great deal of painful effort, sat up, and that was when he saw Ryan, "What happened?"

Eric quickly explained what he could.

After Mirtza retrieved the medical bag, he gave a few drops to Ryan, "Your friend should be fine. We will find people who are more skilled in the healing arts today."

Scratching his head, Zack was looking up towards the three suns. "No, seriously, where am I? I'm hallucinating, right! This is all some sort of flashback. I'm having a dream. Am I lying in a hospital bed? Are those suns hospital lights? Crap! I'm in an operating room, and they didn't put me completely under. Why are they operating on me?"

"They aren't," advised Eric, "and you won't be able to hand in that science project, so you'll fail the class."

"That sucks, but this," and Zack pointed up to the three suns, "really sucks, I mean really, really sucks. Do they have schools here, Dude?"

"Yes, we do," replied Mirtza.

"Bastards will probably make me start over from the beginning, and then I will fail in two freaking worlds. This really, really sucks."

"Yes, Zack, it sucks – it sucks six times." For numerous reasons, his reaction was upsetting Lauren, "You don't like it? Well, we really don't like it either, but for now, get used to it!"

Reaching into his jacket, Zack pulled out a pack of cigarettes and looked for his lighter.

Handing it back, Logan added, "We borrowed it to start a fire."

After lighting a cigarette, he asked for a coffee.

When Mirtza saw Zack work the lighter, he held out his hand, "How did you do that magic?"

"Dude, it's not magic; it's just a lighter."

"Fire from nothing has to be magic." Mirtza turned to John. "I thought you said you were unfamiliar with magic?"

"A lighter is a pressurized reservoir that holds a flammable liquid. Depressing the button releases the liquid that changes to a gas and escapes out. The wheel is abrasive and rubs against a flint creating a spark. After the released gasses find the spark, it creates the flame. It's not magic, just applied science. Mirtza, I have seen you do real magic. Can't you make fire with it?"

"If that is possible, none have shown me. This is rather ingenious, and I know many who would like to see and hear more about it."

"The Dude can do magic?"

"It's a long story," advised Lauren.

"As for the _coffee,_ Zack, it's something similar, but definitely not the same," warned John. "If I were you, avoid it, **as** you're getting better."

"I brewed it weaker this morning," Mirtza chuckled. "I will get you a mug and an option to lessen the bite." Returning after a few minutes, he handed Zack a cup, "Now give me a few minutes, and I will prepare the morning meal."

As Lauren watched him open the same chest from the previous night, the one with the dirty dishes, the thought of eating from them made her cringe. However, he pulled out clean plates and pots. _I have to get a chest like that._

"I hope you like pig. It is not as fine as the ones raised on my farm, but it does the trick."

Inhaling deeply, Eric smelled the fresh meat sizzling over the open fire that wrapped around the exotic scent of the bean juice. "How does everybody feel today?"

"Fine," replied Lauren.

Looking at the fire, Eric was drooling, "So the food last night wasn't drugged or poisoned. That's good since I'm starving, and we ate all the lunches."

Zack reached for his empty backpack, "Dudes, PBJ was my favorite!"

Returning to the wagon, Mirtza handed Lauren a jar. "There are many here that prefer this for a hot beverage. Would you like me to boil water to try it?"

Opening the lid, she smelt a fresh tea-like aroma, "Yes, please, that would be wonderful." Even though the desire for comfort fought against instincts of distrust, comfort won.

"He's probably trying to poison you," suggested Logan.

Mirtza's eyes flared open, "I would—"

"You can be such a bastard, Logan."

"I thought he was your brother?" inquired Mirtza. "Is he adopted?"

"I'm trying to convince our parents, but they don't believe me."

Attempting to understand the unfolding dynamic, Mirtza returned to the fire.

As the others gathered, Zack made himself comfortable, and shifting his weight, he caressed a painful twinge in his chest. Reaching down to the source, he discovered a piece of plastic and with a determined pull, yanked both it and chest hairs free. Massaging the bloody scab, he discovered the pain was deeper, **as** embedded inside, the pendant attached to the silver necklace. Even though he tried to pull it free, it refused to release, resulting in more pain. Reaching behind his neck, he undid the clasp and pulled the chain through to the scab, until only the end remained exposed. One quick tug, followed by excruciating pain and watering eyes, freed the chain, but not the attached pendant made from a bone fragment. After catching his breath, he lowered the blanket, allowing him to evaluate the source of the remaining discomfort. As the shirt had been a synthetic blend, it apparently disliked heat, having shriveled up in most places, and large pieces of the plastic case had melted through, melding to his abdomen. As he picked at the plastic, he freed several large pieces with only minimal pain, but the image shocked him. Spotting Mirtza heading over, he hastily covered up.

After eating, Mirtza packed up everything and announced, "We have a long trip today, but we will meet the healers before nightfall."

When the trip first started, Lauren offered to clean Zack's burns, but he declined, being more interested in what had happened. "Tell me everything I missed."

In turn, the three repeated what they knew or had seen over the last day: a story they would become proficient in telling. As they rode along, Zack continued to pick at the injuries, hiding those actions under the blanket, as he tried to figure out the new source of discomfort.

After several hours in silence, John climbed up to the front, "Is it okay to talk?"

"Questions of magic, I cannot answer. Not because they are forbidden, but as I am a student, there is much I need to learn. The school loaned the items to provide assistance on the trip, so I only understand how to operate them. If they stop functioning, I cannot fix them."

Nodding, John hid his disappointment, "When will we get to the healers?"

"It is at least a one day ride."

"What're they like?"

"In truth, I am uncertain, **as** I have never met them. Since you will find out, this is my first time to the Northlands, **as** I only learned about this place at the school."

John looked hard at the soft road, which was old and filled with ruts caused by depressions formed by puddles. After a while, he noticed two different ones. The main road constructed of loose dirt measured fifteen-feet wide, having boards under many of the old softer spots. Spilling onto the sides, the expanded version showed muddy patches, dirt, or gravel exposed by the overflowing traffic, but after crossing over a bridge, the two roads merged back into one, and on the other side, you could see where the original one widened. "This is an odd road, **as** I have seen few cross or join, but lots of tracks have met with it. It also appears to have suffered from hard use over the last year."

"Yes. I noticed the same."

"When we left the spot where you found us, you used your bracelet to make three routes. We took the middle one, so the other two were false trails, weren't they?"

Mirtza's face could not hide his surprise, "Yes."

John called out, "Eric, can you come up here for a minute?" With the seat being wide, he moved to the center to make room and asked their guide to explain the last statement.

After Mirtza did so, Eric was quick to react but careful not to raise his voice, which might have alarmed Lauren. "Are you running from somebody? Are you a wanted man? Are we in danger from anybody chasing after you?"

"Slow down, so I can explain. When activated, a magic spell makes a noise: the bigger the spell, the louder the noise. If I prick you with a pin, nobody would hear your comments, but if I hit your hand with a hammer, anybody back where I found you would hear your scream. Your entrance was extremely loud, almost as if somebody had – well, had a mountain drop on them. In fact, I have never heard a magic spell so loud, so I came to check it out, **as** others should have."

"Maybe we should've stayed there?"

"Eric, you were there for most of the day. Did you see anybody else? No! That is what raised my suspicions, **as** many people from my school should have not only heard it but also investigated. When I arrived, I should have found nothing but that strange mountain. You should not have been there, considering how long it took to find you. My only conclusion; nobody was near enough to hear." Mirtza paused, "Nobody hunts me, and I mean you no harm. If I wanted to, I could have easily done something last night. As for my false trails, they were more of a precaution."

Sensing Mirtza's agitation, John changed the topic. "The portals you opened? Could we have gone to another location with more people? Why did you bring us to the Northlands?"

"First, the other stones that activated the spells were all from the Southlands. I collected them, but they were all from uninhabited places. Since your other friend is gravely ill, we will need the healing skills of the elves to save him."

John and Eric whispered the singular word in unison, "Elves?"

"Why, yes, they are one of the oldest races, and their healing capabilities are legendary. The elfin people of the Northlands may prove to be the only hope for your friend. Do you not have elves where you hail from?"

Astounded and astonished, Eric and John both went quiet, glancing back to their friends in the wagon.

Mirtza continued, "It is midday. We should stop, so I can make something to eat. Please do not repeat my words to your friends, **as** I do not want them to worry. When we meet the elves, we will talk about this and much more."

*******

Hours later, with the suns approaching the horizon, Mirtza stopped the wagon, "That is wrong."

Eric and John were still awake, "What's wrong?"

"That," repeated the surprised guide, who was pointing straight ahead.

### Chapter 5

Eric and John both stood to scan the horizon, only seeing a massive hill.

"What?" asked John.

Smacking the reins, the oxen began a fast trot. Approaching it, John followed the hill's contours to the base where it should have met with the ground. Along the front edge, he saw the remaining glow from the setting sun, including what looked like large poles silhouetted against the fading light. They soon realized it should have been a huge forest, measuring almost two football stadiums long, with trees towering over two-hundred feet tall. Instead, stretching over the top of the massive expanse was a thick black tarp, nearly reaching the ground. Huge ropes, several inches in diameter, grew from it, and tied to large iron stakes pounded deep into the ground, pulled so rigid, the stiffest winds could not move them. Extending out fifty-feet from the forest edge, under the tarp, was a ten-foot-deep ditch measuring thirty-feet wide, including sides at a forty-five-degree angle.

"This does not bode well," suggested Mirtza.

"What happened here?" asked John.

After looking at the small group of odd travelers, Mirtza turned back to the tarp-covered forest, "What you see for the first time, I also see. What you cannot explain— I have no idea."

"How much longer to find the doctors?" asked Lauren.

"I am unsure... because they used to live here, but I suspect nobody is home." He paused for a minute, "As it is too late to do anything else, we should make camp here tonight. At least we will be dry. We will need to unload the wagon and carry Ryan inside. Zack, can you walk in?"

"If Logan helps me, I'll try, but I'm not feeling that well."

With Lauren and John carrying in the various chests and blankets, Mirtza and Eric struggled with Ryan on the makeshift backboard. An hour later, when the wagon was unloaded, and everything was inside, Mirtza made one last trip to the wagon, ensuring it and the oxen were secure for the night. Returning, he prepared a fire and the meal in silence.

The quiet tension grew until Lauren spoke. "Mirtza, tell us something, anything! What's going on?"

"Tomorrow, I will head out alone, so I can travel faster and cover more territory. I will leave the medicine bag, the chests, and two platinum rings. Each box has gold amulets on the inside that represent the contents. Have a good look to see what each contains. Then, before you open it, imagine what you want, and it will be waiting, but without the ring, the chest is empty. Look, the simple truth is this: I need to find somebody who understands what is happening."

Lauren was irritated, "What happens if you don't return?"

"I understand your concern, but if we fail to get help, I fear for the health of your friends, and there is something else happening, but I have no idea of what it is. Look at this forest. It is as if someone is trying to kill it. Why would you kill a forest?" His mood changed. "I have never been here before, but I remember the stories from class." He walked over to a tall tree with a four-foot diameter trunk, which should have supported a massive green tower, "These are Iron Wood trees. No saw or ax can harm them, and no fire can burn them." He walked over to a group of dried out bushes, "There should be over a dozen different berries growing here, and there is one that can sustain you for a week. There are berries to heal, help you sleep, calm your mind, and the flowers can heal. There were plants to create light, start fires, purify water, and much more. The mushrooms were also magical."

Zack sat upright.

"I talked with that student for hours about this place, but to this day, I still remember the stories of the elves and the magic. This is one of their largest gathering spots in the Northlands, from what I heard. Thousands should be here... but there are none. I have never met one, so I was looking forward to arriving. That is why I went on my trip south, **because** I was hoping to find similar." He shook his head, "Why kill a forest? Where are the elves? Look, I realize you have no idea on what is happening. Well, you are not rowing that boat alone. Even though we need answers, your friends need help, so I will go to find both tomorrow. Give me three days, but stay hidden in the forest. If you need to hide, go deeper into it, but post a watch on the road, and do not show yourselves to anyone. I will give Lauren instructions on how to administer the medicine, what little I have left. Even though I realize you find this distasteful, traveling in a group, we move too slow."

"Mirtza, you just can't leave." Lauren's irritation was growing, "What the hell is this, some kind of a trick or trap?" Then she paused for a brief second, "What's all this talk about elves?"

"I wish I knew what happens, **because** nothing makes any sense. I traveled through the Newlands for three months and saw nobody. We are in the extreme northwest of the Northlands, yet the further I travel, the stranger everything becomes." Mirtza's confused rambling was putting them all on edge. "There should have been elven healers here, but I see none. Nothing I find is what it should be, so it is like I am traveling through a strange land where nothing is familiar."

"Dude, that's not funny."

"Yes, I now better understand what you must be going through. Still, I am without answers and worse yet, I am running out of options of what to do next."

"What if... if you don't come back?" asked Lauren.

"For some reason, be it fate, destiny, or something else, all things under the stars have tasked me with being your host or guardian. While I suppose those powers may have made a better choice, I will accept this burden, although that is an ill-chosen word." Handing the medicine bag to Lauren, he pulled out the three small containers and described how to administer them. Then, without a word, they laid out the bedding, and despite troubled minds, promptly fell asleep.

*******

Waking before the others, the wagon and oxen were absent when Mirtza arrived at the road. The night before, his true intent had not been to check on them, but instead, to secure them in an unusual way. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a small bag containing several gold replicas, including one looking identical to the missing transportation. It also contained a team of four horses in a wagon harness, but each was also complete with a saddle. Freeing one, he placed it on the ground, and waving his cloak over it, before falling to the road, a huge, eight-legged horse materialized. Even though the warning at the school about this amulet had been stern, desperate times called for desperate measures. Climbing into the saddle, he leaned forward and whispered, "Find people." They said it would travel fast, and of that, they were right. By midday, the horse had found four small villages. Before the last sunset, he had looked in the doors of another six, the last of which he stayed at, but he could find no living souls anywhere. Most houses lacked any prized possessions, as if the owners had moved out, but in others, he found bugs buzzing around old meals sitting on tables. The only common element was more posters: BEWARE PLAGUE!

*******

With their guide absent when Eric woke, he began waking the rest. Lightly kicking John, depending on your perspective, he started giving orders. "You have the first watch on the road. Go! Now! Logan, start a fire. Lauren, please make breakfast. I want to see if I can find a more secure location."

Walking away, Eric was having doubts. Finding a deadfall, he sat down to collect his thoughts, but staring at the dead plants, he wondered if they would share a similar fate. Seeing a broken branch with a large bulbous burl, which looked like a head, he picked it up, pushing it into the ground.

"Snap out of it. You're the captain of this team now, so you need to step it up. Why do you think they enrolled you into all of those training camps? It's all about leadership."

That's a good motivational start, Eric, but what else do you have to say?

"First, you need to keep your head on your shoulders. Keep your mind focused!"

He looked at the stick. _I may have lost that battle_.

"It's like any other sport you play. You have a team out there relying on you to lead."

To where?

"Okay, I don't know."

We don't even know who we're playing against or even what game we're playing. It doesn't even look like there's another team on the field. Beyond that, the damn coach left. Now, what do you have to say for yourself?

"We're screwed."

I already figured that out.

Standing, Eric pushed the silent wooden stick backwards and continued his exploration into the gloomy forest, trying to hold back his tears. He eventually found a large clearing after two-hundred feet, and the ground was more rock than soil, which would prevent a fire from spreading. In addition, there were large deadfalls to hide behind, and no overhead trees to embrace stray sparks from a campfire. To Eric, it looked like a much safer spot, appearing if gatherings had occurred here in the past. Walking back to the group, he found breakfast waiting, and filling two plates, he headed to where they had entered the forest. Giving one to John, he sat down, "Well, what would Harry do in this situation?"

"We should wait the three days, **because** , honestly, we have no other choice." Once again, they ate in silence, but when Eric stood, John looked at him. "I'm worried. This isn't science camp, where I'm feeling homesick; I'm terrified. I'm only thirteen, and stuff like this shouldn't happen!"

"You're scared because, for the first time, you don't understand what's happening. Back at school, you could walk into any classroom and answer any question, **because** you know everything. To be honest," and he began his motivational untruth, "I'm counting on you to figure this out and to find us a way home." After explaining the new location, he left, but stopping a dozen yards later, he looked back towards John and saw him crying: a sight that brought tears to his own eyes. _We're never getting home. We'll never see our families again. We are so screwed. In a few years from now, we'll have forgotten about them, and we'll... what the hell will we do?_ What the hell happened _?_

It was the third day in a strange world that none understood, and they all missed their families. With the shock wearing off and temporarily abandoned – they hoped, the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on each in different ways.

Lauren paced in circles. _Wait: it's the most disgusting of all the four-letter words_.

Eric was also in a bad mood, **as** he wanted to lead them to safety, but he lacked ideas on where that was, though his desired preference was a wormhole home.

Pain and fever had also put Zack into a black mood.

When Logan recognized where Lauren was heading, he joined John at the lookout post, **because** she was like a lost storm brewing on the horizon, looking for a harbor to ravage.

Returning from his watch shift hours later, John heard the yelling, and turning around, he went to sit with Logan. When the storm known as Lauren arrived, it clashed with the force called Eric, and Zack, hot with fever, cursed at both. An hour later, Eric joined them watching the road, but they never asked what had happened, **as** the frustration was evident.

Tired of pacing, Lauren's voice was hoarse from shouting, so she sat down on a deadfall. _What the hell are we going to do? Crap world. Well, at least Zack is free from his uncle. Poor John. Back home he was destined for great things. He would have created a computer company like his father and sold it for even more money. Here, he might still be the most intelligent person, but in a world_ _short of books, John will long for them. What about Eric? Without competitive sports, no scholarships or professional teams offering him million dollar contracts, he's a lost soul. The best he can hope for is working on a farm pulling a_ plow _through a field. At least John is free from the bullies, but he'll always have Eric. Maybe John can buy a_ farm _to hire him._

Then Lauren looked at Ryan, _Bastard!_ Recalling the last time he was like this, they were in the hospital. It was six weeks after burying Samantha, her older sister, or eight weeks since the car accident. Having woken from a coma, doctors informed him of the event, and in addition, his parents had advised that the police had cleared him of any wrongs. Her parents, who still grieved, had forgiven him, and wanting to show support to his family, they had insisted she go with them. While knowing he would carry the painful events of that night for a long time, they hoped a public display of acceptance would diminish the grief, **as** he was still like a son to them. Lauren, however, never shared those feelings _. There had to have been something different you could have done, bastard!_ Seeing him in the hospital bed, connected to a dozen machines, had failed to raise any sympathy from her. She still remembered the vile curses uttered with a hushed, angered voice, but recalling her parents, the image brought forth tears, and she wept for hours.

At the first sunset, Eric, Logan, and John wandered back into the camp, finding Lauren preparing a meal. John believed the fire was a nonessential element in the preparations, as Lauren, being so angry, could make a pot boil just by looking at it.

After eating, she walked over to Ryan to give him the medicine. _Why do I have to be the one to look_ after _the guy who killed my sister?_ Arriving at her breaking point, she went over to the fire, "I want somebody to tell me something, anything! Just don't lie to me! What're we going to do? What happens if Mirtza doesn't come back? Somebody? Anybody? This is bullshit!"

Even though Eric tried to talk, she was like a pressure cooker on an open flame for too long: something had to give. She wanted to erupt, to shatter the nightmare and wake up in her warm bed, but another part wanted silence. Before the shouting started again, saying something she could not take back, Lauren dashed off into the dead forest.

When Logan tried to follow, Eric stopped him, "She'll be okay and just needs to let off steam. She'll be safe, **as** we have seen nothing out here. If you go after her, you'll become the target of her frustration." Then Eric headed out to watch the road, "I'll be back in a few hours, **as** I imagine nobody will travel that road in the middle of the night."

Confused like the rest, Logan added wood to the campfire to help his sister find her way back.

Lauren was deep into the forest before finding a wide path, which she followed to the end. The tarp was dark, but stretched so thin, minimal light penetrated through. Reaching the far end, she stopped, and falling to her knees, began sobbing. _What the hell's happening? How do you get into an accident and wake up in another world? Here, nothing makes sense._ Then she thought of her parents. _How are they going to handle losing two more children? It'll rip them apart!_ The _funeral with closed caskets because_ there are _no bodies, or will they go through seven years of hell, waiting for us to be declared legally dead. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this..._ She sobbed for more than an hour, torturing herself with disparaging thoughts, and after a while, unable to cry any longer, she heard the familiar sound of rain.

"God, I would love a hot bath right now, even a cold shower!"

Lauren loved her huge backyard, **as** being around nature always made her feel happy _._ Grabbing a dead tree about five-feet tall, she pulled it from the ground: roots and all. After breaking the small branches off the crown, she smashed the tarp, and it felt so good to hurt something. She vented her frustrations into it, wailing on it as if it was a personal assault on her senses. Noticing a small rip, she attacked the tarp as if it was a mortal enemy. As the gash grew, the forces made it spread open, and from the ground to the highest tree, it separated, making her feel victorious. When that happened, she felt the gentle rain, which tasted like hope. She stood there in the darkening forest for over an hour, letting it wash away tears, the road dust, and the despair. As the night became darker, the temperature began dropping, so she wandered back into a section of the still covered forest. Finding a huge tree with a large exposed cavity, she crawled into it still holding the dead tree.

When the deep sleep arrived, it brought dreams. Sitting on a stump, Lauren was in the middle of a clearing with a cloudless blue sky above. The surrounding forest was vibrant with colors: bright flowers and glowing tree leaves. Everything was intense: the smell, the air, and the sensation of being alive. As she sat there, large white wispy butterflies appeared, surrounding her in such multitudes that the plants were no longer visible. They formed into large groups, rubbing their antennas together, and then they would break apart to create smaller clusters. Several flew around and landed on her head, or kissed her with their long sticky tongues. Without reason, most flew away, yet twelve remained. Initially, all had been white, but the few changed by displaying dozens of alternating hues and shades. Then, to her surprise, after all approached, they wrapped around her.

*******

All night long, Logan tossed and turned. Sure, he had seen her upset before, **as** it was usually his fault, but yesterday was different. He had only seen his sister this angry once before: when first blaming Ryan for Samantha's death. Considering the circumstances, most of their family and friends experienced the five stages of grief relatively quick, except for Lauren. While the funeral put an end to any arguments of denial she may have harbored, it opened onto a sea of anger. Over the last two years, even though that storm had lost most of its energy, small parts remained deep inside of her. If you said the wrong thing, those icy gale-force winds that fueled her anger would renew in seconds. Even though counseling had helped her to get in and out of the different grief stages, Lauren had always rejected the notion of acceptance. Instead, she had adopted a simple philosophy: if the memory of Samantha continued to live, then her sister would always be present.

It was early when Logan sat up, hoping to see her presence in the camp. Before anybody woke to talk him out of looking for her, he headed into the forest. Following the paths, when he arrived at a wider one, he turned to the right, unlike Lauren's choice. Dried branches and leaves crackled underfoot, and with the dark tarp overhead restricting light, visions of zombies, vampires, and aliens filled his head. After walking for an hour, growing more worried, he thought about turning around to check the other end of the forest. Seeing a bend in the path, it showed a clearing with several benches, and proceeding with caution, he discovered an area with a dozen twelve-foot long white stones forming a circle. In the center, two of a similar size about two-feet apart sat. Even though the meeting place was in the dead, creepy forest, it seemed to have a peaceful or serene quality.

Logan first walked around the perimeter, trying to determine any clues to its purpose. Wandering into the center, fatigue, hunger, and worry overwhelmed him. Confused and exhausted, he sat down to collect his thoughts. _Lauren presents a strong front on the outside, but I know she's still fragile on the inside. Now we're here, ripped from our effing world, and plopped down in this goddamn strange land. At home, while I may have been a pain in her butt, it was normal and expected, but at least I could protect her. If she needed time to be alone, I could distract Mom or Dad to provide her with the personal time she required. What can I do to help her here?_

Images of his sister filled Logan's memory, good and bad: birthday parties, holidays, summer vacations, and more. How he made her so mad that she threatened to call their parents, but she always gave him to the count of ten. As he was so good at pushing her buttons, she claimed the credit for teaching him fractions. When he refused to leave, she counted the final two numbers in quarters: 8, 8 1/4, 8 1/2, 8 ¾, and so on. However, he usually waited for 9 3/4 before leaving – until he realized there were smaller fractions, which resulted in her counting in 1/8's.

_What can I do to help her? How do I protect her?_ Without realizing it, overtaken by fatigue and lying back on the slab, he quickly fell asleep.

Images of his sister flooded the dreams, but not _Strong_ Lauren. Instead, he dreamt of _Hurt Lauren_ : listening to her cry at the bedroom door, watching her wander in circles in their backyard, and holding her hand at their sister's funeral. It was more of a nightmare than a dream, **as** his desires to see her smile battled with the crying recollections. Rolling off, he landed on the flat of his back between the two stones. Winded, his head spinning, he reached out to the stone benches, and when his forearms connected with the cold surface, his body convulsed, **as** an intense burning sensation traveled through his arms and across his torso. As his vision filled with white light, everything faded to black.

### Chapter 6

The night before, after Mirtza fell asleep, he tossed and turned, **as** nightmares of the plague filled his dreams. It was dark out when the sound of magic startled him awake, but so quick was the noise, he was unable to identify the direction or distance. Without anything to eat, he climbed onto the steed's saddle, and leaning forward, he whispered _find people_. As the slow trot turned into a blistering gallop, countryside flew by, but in the end, even though he visited eight small communities, once again, he failed to find a single soul. Barns and cold cellars stocked to the rafters with harvested crops: the expectation; bare floors the unexplained observation. Around noon, he thought the magical horse might have a malfunction, so he instructed it to find water, and it took him to a bubbling spring. He continued his search well past dusk but to no avail, and that night, too tired to find a secure location, he slept in the open.

*******

Lauren woke with a smile, feeling happy: _butterfly hugs_. Blinking her eyes open, one of the bright suns was beaming down on her. Stepping out of the tree, a burst of color surprised her, **because** the plants that had been dead the night before were now alive; tree leaves were green, and the most unusual flowers were blooming. She saw berries on the bushes, bugs buzzing around, and even heard birds, though she could never spot them.

Wandering over to a fallen tree, she sat down, and pulling a few berries off a nearby bush, she ate them. In her hand was the small dead tree from the night before, but it was actually three, which had grown in such a way that each had wound around the next. While odd looking, especially since it still had a root cluster on the bottom, she decided to keep it. Sitting for a long time, she inhaled the intoxicating air and visually drank in the vibrant colors. Going over to a large broad-leafed plant, she plucked one and folded it into a pouch shape. After that, she gathered flowers, berries, pine cones, grasses, and small fruits. Before picking one, she sat for a few minutes caressing or inspecting the plant, and a few times, talked to it.

*******

Lacking any idea of the time, Logan saw the two stone benches at his sides, and that was when he remembered falling. Sitting upright, an intense burning sensation in his arms slammed into his brain, making him wince in pain. Examining his forearms, he found a large tattoo of a red feather on the right, including a similar blue one on his left. When he rubbed a tattoo against the flow of the feathers, the little segments separated, and rubbing the feather upright, they married back together. As he sat looking at the strange sight, they began fading away before completely disappearing, leaving no trace of their existence.

After a short period, he raised himself from between the two stone benches, avoiding both, before staggering down the path. Halfway back, examining his arms, there was nothing there; _must have dreamt it_. Eventually, he stumbled into the camp around lunchtime.

Eric had prepared a simple meal of buns and fruits, "Where have you been?"

"Looking for Lauren. Where's John?"

"He's watching the road. Did you find her?"

"No," and going to his blankets, he pulled them over his head, falling into a deep sleep.

With Lauren absent, the camp was quiet that day.

*******

Late into the night, Lauren thought about Ryan and Zack. Reaching for the entwined staff and leaf pouch, she pulled out one of the collected berries, crushing it on the staff's head, and as the juices flowed down, they created a soft blue light. Heading back to the other camp, she found all sound asleep. Kneeling beside Ryan, she touched his forehead: _fever_. Pulling a berry from the pouch, she squeezed it, so the liquid drops fell onto his tongue. Pushing back his clothing, the number of scars shocked her. When John was stitching him, she never had a good look, **as** there was so much blood and confusion. While knowing about the extensive surgeries, the extents surprised her, **because** every part of his body had one. _Maybe that's justice enough_. John had cut most of the fabric to expose the injuries on the legs, and even though he had done a respectable job, an infection had set in. The areas around the stitches were extremely red, caused by increased internal pressure, and she saw signs of blood poisoning beginning. Squeezing the cuts on the legs, white pus erupted from the sores, like a human volcano, but she continued to apply pressure until the laceration released fresh blood, cascading out like lava. Moaning in pain, Ryan passed out. _Good, it'll be better this way_. As a red, watery liquid seeped from the tended areas, she grabbed pinecones from the pouch, and breaking them, she removed the seeds. Reaching for a small pot, she filled it with water before putting it on the smoldering embers. To this, she added flowers, berries, leaves, and tree bark, and as the brew simmered, she cleansed each infected injury. Pulling the pot from the embers, she let it cool before applying the unusual mixture, and with John's stitches holding, the skin color gradually returned to the injured areas. She then retrieved dressings from the first-aid kit to cover each, and after examining his front for any other wounds, he opened his eyes when she rolled him onto his side.

Partially asleep, Ryan looked up, "Samantha, what's going on?"

Even though Lauren knew of the resemblance, she also knew he was delusional and burning up with fever. Still, it was like a hot iron spike through her heart. Pulling a berry out of the pouch, she placed it in his mouth, "Sleep." For hours, she had toiled on Ryan, making sure every nick or cut had received treatment, and while he needed more healing, the rest would have to wait for later, but she knew he should be able to walk in a day or two. Covering him up, she approached Zack.

Pulling out two berries, she squeezed the juices into his mouth. The burnt shirt no longer covered his torso, **as** he had retrieved a black hoodie from his backpack, and after waiting a few minutes, she partially undid the zipper. He had been picking the burnt plastic from his wounds, which looked the worse, and it stunned her to see his torso covered in multiple patches of fur growing from his skin. While some were obvious, like skunk, porcupine, and polar bear, the majority remained a mystery, and over half of his torso was now a crazy quilt of different animal furs. Between them, still fused into scabs were pieces of plastic: some small, some large. Opening the hoodie, she exposed his chest and abdomen, being shocked to see his upper right shoulder covered with snake-skin. Rolling him onto his side, she was surprised to see a large feather firmly attached to his back, which had several smaller ones growing beside it. _What sins did you commit that your reward is such a horrific curse?_ From the leaf pouch, she pulled out a dozen different items, adding them to a fresh pot of water. Stirring the contents until it was a thick green cream, she applied it to all the raw wounds, and running her hands over his body, she sensed the toxins inside. _Zack needs purification_. To another pot, she added both water and beans from that coffee-like drink, which Logan enjoyed so much. Pulling out a much larger pinecone, she smacked it on the ground and shook out three seeds. Running her hands over his body again, she recalled the rumors about his fondness for illegal substances. Over the pot, in her right hand, she held two of the pinecone seeds, and in the left, she held one. Then, ever so silently, she mumbled, "Help me." After a minute, she dropped all three and waited for it to boil. Pouring the contents into a mug, she sat spoon-feeding the dark liquid to him for an hour.

Tired by the nocturnal activities, the tarp overhead was growing brighter, signaling pre-dawn's arrival, so Lauren wandered back to her little patch of bliss. Once again, she crawled into the tree cavity with the tri-wood staff, smiling as she fell asleep. With the staff lying across her body, the root cluster rested on the ground outside, and slowly fresh roots extended, drinking in nourishment from the ground.

Sitting on the stump once again, twelve multi-colored butterflies circled her. Then, to her amazement, one by one, they joined each other, and in the end, one giant butterfly floated over and hugged her. Rocking her back and forth, it felt like the embrace of a mother, and she wept with relief flooding over her.

*******

Waking late in the day, Lauren was surprised to see how the forest had grown, **as** a small amount of light and rain had made a magical transformation to the once dead place. Wandering over to a green-leafed tree, she plucked several from its branches. Sitting down in the warm sunlight, she removed her jacket, unzipped the lining, and for hours, carefully weaved the leaf stems into the mesh before reassembling it. Knowing she would leave soon, now at least, she could take a small part with her.

*******

Eric, needing to do something, even if it failed to accomplish anything, started making the breakfast, hoping the smells might attract Lauren. While the aroma woke up John, the desired guest remained absent. Heading to the road, he left John in charge of the camp in case she returned.

Going over to a chest, when John opened it, inside he saw over a hundred gold replicas of food items, but otherwise, the chest was empty. After examining both the inside and outside, putting on one of the large platinum rings, he waved his hand over the box thinking of an apple. Opening it, he found one, _so much for science._ Sitting on the log, he looked at Zack, remembering how the loner had intrigued him. Going into a new class always terrified John, **as** he was never sure of what to expect, but when Zack did the same, he was a force of one; a dark shadow who confidently stated _Leave me alone_. Because Zack neither needed nor wanted friends, he fascinated John.

On numerous occasions, other kids tried to get at Zack by calling him names or similar. He, in turn, would walk over and stare, but never saying a word, the other students backed off, unsure of what he might do. While it did little to help with the rumors, John was reasonably sure Zack had little interest in what others said or thought.

After performing an Internet search, John had found more than anticipated. Given up for adoption by his birth mother, Zack had been in and out of foster homes for years: one bad situation after another. His last became final in a different way when, four years ago, his parents had filed for divorce. During the proceedings, it became apparent neither wanted custody. As the judge prepared his recommendation, both of the adopted parents died in a freak car accident, so the courts awarded custody to his uncle. The way the story sounded; it seemed the uncle was more interested in the large financial settlement and inheritance Zack was entitled to, rather than his nephew's best interests. Even though he thought there was more to the story, only Zack would have those answers. When Logan woke, John went to sit with Eric at the roadside, and the rest of the day was quiet in the camp.

*******

It was early dusk when Lauren wandered over to the other campsite. With three of the boys absent, she walked to the road entrance, finding them arguing about Mirtza. _He said he would be back in three days. Did that mean he would be back on the third day or the day after_? Leaving them there, she went to check on Zack and Ryan. Pulling out a berry, she squeezed the juice into Ryan's mouth, and after touching his forehead, smiled because it felt normal, and even Zack looked healthier. Returning to the tree, she sat at the base leaning against it for support. Watching the sun sets, mesmerized by the colors, gradually her smile faded when a dreamless sleep welcomed her, but once again, the roots extended from the staff.

*******

John, the first to wake the next morning, proceeded to watch the road without waiting for Eric to kick him awake. Waking an hour later, Eric started the fire to prepare the morning meal, and when Logan woke, he helped. Shortly after that, the smells brought John back from the road, and to their surprise, Lauren wandered in, holding the tri-wood staff.

As Eric was becoming worried, he was pleased to see her. "I'm sorry for what I said. I was upset and didn't mean any of it,"

"I understand. We both were."

"Mirtza should be back soon, and then we can get out of here."

Her words were blunt. "And go where?"

"Please, don't fight again. It won't accomplish anything," begged John.

At this point, Ryan rolled over, "Will you guys be quiet. I have a terrible headache." Sitting up, he pulled the blanket off, and they saw the dressings.

"Mirtza must have come back last night and brought a healer," Eric said. "We have good news since the dead rise."

"It's because you guys are making so much damn noise, the dead can't get any rest," replied Zack when he rolled over.

Eric was almost giddy, **as** he had thought Ryan would surely die and refused to place any bets on Zack, so the sight of both injured parties now awake cheered up everybody. Serving the breakfast, he declared, "Now all we have to do is wait for Mirtza, the elves, and get to civilization."

Ryan tilted his head to one side, "Elves? Can somebody please explain what happened? Where are we?"

Pleased to see Ryan awake, Lauren offered to sit watch while the boys updated him, but she failed to understand how they would explain what had happened, or that he would never see his parents again. Part of her wanted to stay, seeing him cry uncontrollably, the same way she had when told about Samantha dying in his car. She wanted to hear him yell at the injustice of what was happening, wondering if he would scream as she had. Hearing the first sobs before leaving the new camp, she heard the first shrieks passing through the old one. Even though part of her wanted to smile, another part wanted to cry, but as for remaining here, there was no part embracing that option. After lunch, John went to relieve her from the watch, but shunning the boys, she returned to her little camp to avoid any more fights.

*******

Mid-morning, Mirtza gave up. Stopping the steed, he whispered, "Back to the covered forest." As they raced back, he considered the options. _I have tried my best, but I do not know what else I can do. I will gather them together and tell them what I have found: nothing, nothing but those damn plague posters_. The _only thing I can do is use the bracelet to open all the_ portals _and go through the one that looks best._ He tried to deliberate on other options, but much like the answers sought, those alternatives eluded him. In a matter of hours, the covered forest appeared, and the magical steed slowed down. Stopping in front of the expanse of the covered trees, he saw John stand up and wave, hearing him yell to the others as he ran inside. Defeated, Mirtza dismounted, and gathering his thoughts, he looked to the east. _Dust clouds? RIDERS! They move too fast!_

### Chapter 7

Waving his cloak over the steed, Mirtza pulled it from the ground to reveal the horse amulet, which he exchanged with another replica, and after repeating the action, a wagon appeared. He ran inside, "Quick, gather our stuff and load the wagon, **as** we need to..." He saw Ryan and Zack standing, "What happened here?"

"We thought you brought the healers by last night," began Eric, "because they both woke up this morning."

Mirtza's tone conveyed the new sense of urgency, "I was never here last night, but we have no time to discuss this right now. Gather everything important and load the wagon, NOW! Where is Lauren?"

"She has been camping on the far side," advised Eric.

"I will get her, but WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE, NOW!" Running through the forest, he yelled out her name and when answered, followed the calls. However, when seeing the sunlight through the ripped tarp, he walked up to it, and pulling out a knife, he tried to cut the fabric but failed: it was magic. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

"It was raining, and I wanted to clean myself... I was upset," replied a startled Lauren, "and I hit the thing with a dead tree. It ripped, so don't get excited."

_This is what I heard. This is why riders come. They may not understand what or who they look for, but they realize something is up. You do not go to all of this effort and let somebody destroy it. "_ Get to the wagon, **as** we need to get out of here, NOW!"

"I don't—"

"What have you done? This." Mirtza grabbed the torn tarp, "Because of this, riders come. Riders I have no desire to meet. MOVE! GET TO THE WAGON NOW!"

Grabbing the pouch and tri-wood staff, she started into the forest, but when he reached for the second, Lauren pulled it back. "Impure Trickster, touch not that which belongs to myself." With her pupils dilated, each iris was nothing more than a small coral ring containing a large black orb. She stepped closer, "Is such understood?" While not yelling, her voice seemed different, authoritative.

The surprise and shock registered on Mirtza, as if he was talking to a different person. Impure Trickster was a term heard from the school, spoken by elves who considered the magic students to be tainted or impure. _How would she know?_ Exiting the forest, he saw Eric helping Ryan navigate the ditch, and the other three stood looking at the dust cloud. Aiding Eric's efforts, they both rushed Ryan to the top, and much to Mirtza's relief, they had loaded everything into the wagon. "They use magic and travel too fast." Reaching into the cloak, Mirtza pulled out the multi-horse amulet, adding the fourth to it. Tossing it to the ground, he waved the cloak, and four horse-like creatures with multiple legs materialized in a wagon harness.

"Dude, do those horses have eight legs?"

Hitching the harness to the wagon, he commanded them, "Get in now and hang on!" As the boys helped Ryan and Zack get in, Lauren calmly took a seat on the front bench. When Mirtza joined her, he yelled to the team of horses, "To the Dark Forest," but he never had to crack the reins, **as** the horses bolted. Screaming over the rushing wind, he called out, "We will head to a distant forest, **as** we should be able to lose them there."

Even though the countryside was a blur, the only thing that remained in focus was the dust cloud following. While the speed traveled surprised John, Eric, and Logan, it failed in comparison to the sheer shock Ryan and Zack displayed. There was no conversation on this trip, **as** everybody was too busy trying to hold on. Ruts in the road tossed the riders from side to side, but small creeks were the worst, **as** the incredible speed threw them into the air, and they feared ejection from the speeding chariot. Looking forward, they saw bridges appear, but before securing their grips, they passed over, and by the time they looked back, it was almost out of sight.

Late in the afternoon, they saw another huge forest speeding towards them. It was like watching a video on fast-forward, becoming larger and closer by the second. As they approached, the horses slowed down, coming to a dead stop where it started. Getting out of the wagon, Mirtza waved the cloak over the horses to change them into a gold amulet. Bending down to pick it up, he placed the oxen one on the ground, materializing them in a similar fashion. This image of appearing and disappearing livestock was, simply put, quite unsettling to the boys.

"Why are we changing?" asked Eric.

"The horses cannot navigate the twisting path ahead."

After traveling a short distance into the forest, John called out. "We'll never get away from them this way. The wagon is leaving tracks a blind man can follow."

Stopping, Mirtza wanted to see what he was talking about, and with the ground being soft, the observation now made sense.

"Cut down a few small trees," began John, "and Eric, Logan, and I can swish them back and forth from the wagon to cover the tracks."

Before finishing the sentence, Eric jumped out and was ripping out small trees, and Mirtza removed the roots. Retrieving a length of rope, Mirtza cut off three pieces to secure them to the wagon. Returning to the front, he was surprised to see Lauren missing, who had walked several hundred feet ahead. Pulling the wagon up beside her, his voice was still excited, and he ordered her to take a seat, which she did – after giving him a disdainful look.

For an hour, everybody was quiet, and then Lauren looked at Mirtza. Once again, her pupils were large dark orbs with only a thin iris encircling them. "Of the forest's name, you misspoke such, **as** the Dark Forest is named wrong. In ages past, elf called such the Forest of Night, **because** small trees can only grow beside the road, where sufficient light embraces their young struggle. Travel but a short distance into the forest, and you shall find all dark as night."

_Those eyes, the voice, and more elfin words; I am sure this time. How would_ she _know?_ Mirtza shifted his focus to the road in front, "John, is your plan working?" All he heard was _yes,_ so he kept on going.

Thirty minutes later, Lauren began singing, but lacking words, it sounded more like humming. Over time, the volume increased, working itself into their travels, but nobody said anything. In fact, they never realized she was singing at all – until stopping two hours later.

"That was a lovely song. Was it from your childhood?" asked Mirtza.

"Such is not. It is an ancient elfin song. Please stop to make camp."

Mirtza shook his head, "I would rather travel further." Then the words she spoken registered, "What do you mean: ancient elfin song?"

"The forest is large, and you shall not make sufficient passage in one night. Of those who followed, worry not."

_There it is again, elfin words._ Mirtza started turning towards her, but remembering the eyes, he looked back to the road, "What do you mean?"

"Stop when such an opportunity presents."

He thought about traveling more, but afraid that the eyes and voice may return, he pulled the wagon into the first clearing of sufficient size. That night, the camp and meal preparation were uncomfortably quiet. At the back of the wagon, Lauren ignored everybody. Occasionally, she retrieved something from the pouch to eat but never said a word. The five boys sat around the campfire, speculating on what had happened: the mysterious healing, the riders, Lauren, and now Mirtza's quiet presence.

Later, Mirtza delivered blankets to everybody, and from a pocket, he extracted a cloth bag, emptying the contents into his hand. Waving his other hand over the golden objects, he materialized six small bats and whispered to them, "Warn of intruders," and they took flight into the dark forest. He turned to the others, "They will protect us tonight. If anything makes its way to our camp, those bats will wake me. They will recognize you, so pay them no concern." With that, he took blankets up to the oxen and retired for the night.

*******

The road traveled had twisted and turned, and the forest was so thick it blocked distant sounds. Because of these factors, nobody knew of the first battle about to begin.

An hour before dark, the riders arrived at the great forest, knowing they were close. Those pursued had tried to cover the wagon marks, but they were not tracking by sight or smell, **as** magic guided them. Now able to taste the victory of the capture, they spurred the mounts on. Arriving at a section of road covered by small trees, their horses were unable to race through the forest, so they carefully led them through the mess. Showing no signs of being cut, the trees appeared as if they had given up and fallen over. With the soil moist, the riders thought it odd, **as** there were no signs of windstorms. They were well into the middle of it, cursing at the wasted time, when it happened.

Unexpectedly, large branches from the tallest trees fell, crashing down and killing riders. Those that failed to hit a target exploded and splintered, sending wooden projectiles into all. While armor protected their bodies, their helmets were open-faced. Large jagged splinters flew through the air, but being of insufficient size or velocity to pierce the metal helmets, the protective headpieces only stopped them from exiting the wounds they made, granted access through the soft tissues of eyes, nose, and mouth. Mid-size trees toppled, crushing riders and horses alike, and in a few cases, when a tree fell onto another, it spared the rider's life but trapped them.

When darkness arrived, the only sounds heard were soft painful moans – until the wolves arrived.

*******

It rushed through the woods _. Smell blood, fresh blood. Smell deer, fawn._ Me _no want deer._ Me _want fresh._ It ran faster as the scents increased. _Fallen trees. Dead horses. Dead men. Beasts gorging._ Wolves surrounded one lone survivor, who had a leg crushed under a tree. Waving a torch with one hand, he fought them off with a sword in the other. Lunging at the smaller timid wolves, it scared them off. The last surviving rider looked at the large snarling beast, and as he watched, his torch sputtered out.

Me _like fresh._

*******

With morning arriving, everybody except Lauren and Zack rallied around the wagon. When Mirtza whistled, the six bats returned, and waving a hand over them, they reverted into tiny golden objects. He did not prepare breakfast, and instead, the chests dispensed fresh fruits and buns eaten while they traveled west. Late in the day, with no notice, Lauren jumped off the wagon with the tri-wood staff in hand and started walking up a small cart path, traveling north into the dark forest.

When Mirtza called out, she never answered. Stopping the wagon, he turned to Eric, "Go get her."

Jumping out, he gave chase, "Where're you going?"

"At the paths end, we shall find a well of healing of which your friends require such. Thus, the need to visit is great."

Grabbing her shoulder, Eric could not stop her, and in fact, he felt outsized, despite his imposing frame.

"Your hand, please remove such."

The voice shocked Eric, causing him to pull his hand back. While it sounded like Lauren, she spoke with an authority never heard before. Moving to the front, he blocked the path, "Look—" Upon gazing into the large dark orbs, he forgot what he wanted to say, and stepping to the side, he let her pass.

Turning the wagon up the road, Mirtza stopped beside Eric, "Get in! Where is she going?"

"She said something about a healing well... getting water for Ryan and Zack? Mirtza, her eyes, her voice?"

"I know." Then he smacked the reins on the oxen to catch up. "Lauren, please get in. This place may be unsafe, so we have to get out of here."

"Speak not of actions required. Such is necessary, Impure Trickster." Then she continued to walk down the trail, but everybody had seen the eyes and heard the voice.

Logan summed it up best: "That's not my sister."

For an hour, she continued down the trail until it ended at a twenty-foot wide clearing. Walking to the center, it looked like she was trying to get her bearings, and the six in the wagon watched from the clearing edge, uncertain of what was happening.

Unexpectantly, two five-foot-tall black-clad figures stepped out of the forest, and with raised swords, they ran towards her.

### Chapter 8

As they watched, those sitting in the wagon were both horrified and paralyzed at the same time. The expectation was to see Lauren run back to the wagon or at least scream. Holding John's knife, Eric was about to jump down, but then he saw Lauren raise the strange staff. Grasping it with both hands, she deflected the first sword strike, which hit her arm as it flew out of the attacker's hands. As he moved to retrieve it, Lauren, grasping the staff like a baseball bat, struck the intruder. The root cluster smashed into the black-clad opponent's chest, breaking ribs clean through the armor and skin. The second was moving even as the first one had swung, but in mid-stride, several arrows mysteriously appeared in both him and his twitching friend, who was lying on the ground.

From the other side of the clearing, six equally odd-looking characters stepped out of the woods, holding bows in hand with nocked arrows. Approaching Lauren, they talked quietly to her.

Mirtza was shocked: e _lves._ Pulling out the jar of translation ointment, he passed it to Eric, "Quickly, show Ryan and Zack how to apply it!"

Lauren walked over to the wagon with the lean, strong looking elves. They were each about four-feet-six, weighing about one-hundred pounds, wearing multi-colored camouflage coats and pants. Oddly, they had ears like those of a deer, being able to point one forward and back at the same time. She announced, "These are my friends: Mirtza, Eric, John, Ryan, Zack, and my brother Logan." As she spoke each name, they raised a hand or smiled. Then she said, "I would like to introduce Alron Icefeather, Panry Moonshadow, Cethail Highbreeze, Erust Huntinghawk, Babartin and Careel Dawnfalcon." Hearing their names, each placed their arrow into a quiver.

Alron stepped forward, "Elf welcomes all."

Lauren asked for two empty water skins, which Mirtza produced. Turning, she walked towards the forest, followed by the Dawnfalcons.

When Eric started talking, Alron interrupted, "Not any harm shall befoul her."

"Mirtza, should we get those swords?" asked Eric.

"Such you do not want." Even though Alron had no idea if there was anything wrong with them, he liked the fact those in the wagon were unarmed, preferring if they stayed that way. He then signaled to Panry Moonshadow, who with Erust Huntinghawk, headed into the woods where the strange men had first appeared.

"Dude, did I just see somebody die?"

Ryan nodded.

Zack pointed towards the shorter figures, "The little Indians with the bows and arrows. What're they wearing on the side of their heads?"

"I think they're elves," began Ryan, "not Indians and those are their ears."

"So the cavalry dudes aren't going to rush in?"

"No."

"Good, I always hated how they killed the Indians." Zack pointed to the two dead figures Alron was examining, "Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dead, lying on the ground over there. Have you seen them before in this wonderland?"

"No." Logan looked at the pool of blood forming around the two bodies, "This is getting way too real!"

After Panry and Erust had walked out of the forest, they met with Alron. With the applied translation ointment amplifying the quiet whispers, those in the wagon heard the conversation.

"Preparations for many they make," advised Panry. "A camp for dozens, mayhap more."

"Not any warning did Mother provide of others," began Alron. "Only of the seven did she mention."

"Should we have not traveled by forest, perchance they would have attacked us," added Careel.

Alron was shaking his head, "Why attack? Should they have waited, we would not be aware of their presence. Such matters not, so hide their bodies and slay any mounts. We shall advise Earth Mother upon our return."

Returning with two full water-skins, Lauren interrupted their conversation, so Alron sent three elves back into the woods. Minutes later, they led six large male deer into the clearing, each with a saddle and a pack on its back, and a huge rack of impressive antlers.

Lauren jumped onto the wagon seat beside Mirtza and Eric, "Please continue."

Jumping onto their stag's back, two elves headed up the path. Alron Icefeather first looked to the Dawnfalcons and the dead bodies, suggesting they should be hidden. Then he and Panry Moonshadow rode beside the wagon, but before anybody asked, Alron spoke, "Shortly the Dawnfalcons shall follow."

"Is it all right if I examine your arm?" asked John. "I want to make sure you're not injured." She held it out, and moving to the other side of the wagon, he examined it. There was no blood, yet her jacket had received a clean cut. Feeling where the injury should have been, he felt the strange leaves under the outer fabric.

She pulled it back, "Satisfied?"

Nodding, he turned his gaze back to the odd elves, noticing their clothes were no longer the multi-camouflaged color, but instead, they were now a solid dark green.

After traveling along the forest paths and roads for many hours, they stopped to make camp, and Lauren handed Ryan and Zack each a water skin. "Drink half and use the remainder to wash your wounds." Once again, she refused to join their meal, remaining quiet for the rest of the night, and grabbing a blanket, she made her bed at the end of the wagon.

As the elves made their camp, collecting the wood, Logan kept wondering about the covered forest with the weird stone benches. A dozen times that day, he had checked his arms for the strange tattoos but found nothing. After stacking the firewood, he checked again, shaking his head in confusion, and turning, he never saw smoke from the kindling drift skyward. By the time Mirtza turned around, a fire was already blazing, but he thought Logan had used Zack's lighter.

After eating, Eric spoke first, "Mirtza, what's happening? What's up with Lauren? The elves? Who were those two that tried to kill her?"

"Those are easy questions to answer." Reaching into a pocket, he mimicked pulling something out. "What I hold in my hand is a special book, **as** it has answers to every question unasked. I will give it to you, so you can look up those answers." Leaning forward, he held out his outstretched hand.

Even though he tried to grab the book, there was nothing there. "What's wrong with you?" asked a scowling Eric, who added, "Shut up, John," who was chuckling.

"I wish it were that simple. It appears Lauren is receiving guidance from a... special force, and like you, I have heard her speak. She is no longer the distrusting little girl, with the timid voice, that I met a few days ago. I have looked into those eyes, and they no longer resemble the tear-stained eyes first met in the grasslands. That staff... there is something special about it. There is an order or sect here, but they have no name I am aware of, so I lack any real knowledge about them. That being said, they get direction from one called Mother." After Mirtza picked up a handful of dirt, he let it fall back to the ground. "From what I understand, this is Mother, but she is more than the ground, so I guess you can call her knowledge or a presence. They call those who receive the gift Earth Daughters or Earth Mothers, but in truth, I have never met one. My best guess... that strange staff is somehow connecting young Lauren to Mother, and in turn, she is guiding or giving her knowledge. I believe one of the trees is Iron Wood, **because** that sword strike should have broken the staff in two, and she should be dead. When she used it as a weapon to hit that assailant, it should have broken, but instead, she broke the opponent in two."

"Should we take it?" asked Eric.

"You can try," replied Mirtza, "but you have seen those eyes."

John spoke up, "Inside her jacket, where the sword hit, there were leaves. How can they stop a sword?"

"I have no need of the book Eric ignores to answer that one, **as** they would have been from an Iron Wood tree." After explaining about the strange things seen, he concluded with, "As for the well, the song she sang, her eyes, and the strange voice she speaks, I assume it all comes from the staff, but I fail to understand how. I have no idea why the riders stopped chasing nor what will happen next." Retrieving the two water skins, Mirtza smelled them and poured some into his hands, "It looks like water." Giving one to both boys, he suggested they should do as she said.

After Ryan drank the first half, he removed his shirt and pants.

Mirtza looked at all the scars, old and new, "Is this customary in your culture?"

"No, I was involved in an unfortunate accident. It seems they put me back together after I fell off a wall."

"If I were you, I would avoid walls."

John noticed Ryan was healing extremely fast, **because** seven days ago he could only walk a few feet. Two days past, even though able to stand without support, he could not walk any distance unassisted. Today, you would never think he once relied on a wheelchair. The same was true with Zack. Two days ago, extensive burns caused significant discomfort, but now he was walking pain free. While confused about all of this, his concern was for Lauren.

After Ryan dressed, Mirtza asked Zack if he needed help, but he declined, preferring to keep his secret hidden, **as** the hairy growths were spreading. When riding in the wagon, he had continued to pick at the plastic, and the last had fallen off the day before. Slipping away into the forest, when nobody was looking, he found a private spot to remove his clothes. While the open wounds had scabbed over, furs now almost covered his entire abdomen, and the feathers on his back were a real, well, a real pain in the back. Trying to pull them out again, they remained firmly attached. Washing the furs, feathers, and snakeskin, he hoped the water was truly _magic_ , and he would soon pick the strange skins off, similar to the way he had removed the plastic. Drinking the last half, he hoped it would also drown the strange dreams currently experienced.

When done, Alron advised the elves would stand guard, so all soon were asleep after finding a spot.

*******

With morning arriving, both camps prepared and consumed a meal in quiet.

When done, Alron rode over. "Hereafter, elf shall take the front guard, and two shall shadow. With us, you shall travel to our home, five days away."

Throughout the following days, each cast a glance at Lauren, hoping she would acknowledge them and tell them what she knew, but the entire trip she only stared into the forest, ignoring her traveling companions. The silence was driving the five crazy, but between Lauren and the elves, it seemed to be the best course.

One night, lying awake, John gazed at the stars, and overhead, he saw the large, bright half-moon in the dark sky. Watching, it surprised him to see a meteorite orbiting, actually three. Over the hour, he saw three large elongated asteroids leave the dark shadow, traversing across the reflected light from the three suns, and as it became later, a display similar to the Earth's Northern Lights began putting on a show. Growing in intensity and brightness, it exceeded anything watched on his computer at home. As he was about to nod off, Lauren walked over.

"John, what's happening?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, surprised at her appearance and the question.

"Don't play stupid with me. Crap is happening. Crap that seems to have me stuck in the middle. One day, I'm a simple schoolgirl, and the next, I wake up in a strange freaking world. A stranger picks us up, drops us off in a dying forest, and then I'm healing Ryan and Zack. I understand things, things I shouldn't, and sometimes it feels like I'm looking through somebody else's eyes."

Her distress pushed the sleep to the back of John's mind, "Let's walk."

Heading down the road, Alron Icefeather stepped out from behind a tree, allowing their progress to continue. Passing by him, John both heard a whistle and had a sensation of somebody following, yet when he turned to check, nobody was there. As they walked, Lauren reached into a coat pocket, and pulling out a berry, she crushed it onto the staff's head, creating a soft blue light that illuminated their way.

"John, I have killed."

"I know. I was there."

"There were others. That dust cloud that followed from the covered forest. I asked the forest to kill them."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know how, but that song, I asked the trees to stop the ones following us. Somehow, they set a trap, and I'm sure those trees killed them."

"How do you know?"

"Haven't you been listening? I don't know how I know these things, I just do. John, am I evil? Is that why those men were trying to kill me?"

"I have only known you for a few years, but I don't imagine you have an evil bone in your body. They attacked you, and you defended yourself. Those elves killed the second."

"What about the ones who chased us? They may have been sent to help us, or to kill me?"

"There are a lot of strange events happening, much of which I can't explain. Honestly, there's nothing that I can, but how do you feel inside, in your heart or gut?"

"I think we're supposed to be here, that our arrival wasn't an accident." In the dark, he never saw her pupils dilate; however, the change in her voice was more than noticeable. "On this night, I have bothered you greatly. Let us return, **as** the day next shall be long, and much sleep you shall need." With that, Lauren turned so quickly she caught John unprepared, leaving him standing alone in the dark.

Wearing a black outfit, Alron stepped out from the forest, "Friend John, worry not. I believe Mother now guides young Lauren. Thus, to the camp, we should return."

"May I ask a question?"

"Questions are like trees: free and many. Answers are like deer: few and elusive."

"Are you a game warden? Look, do you know what's happening?"

"Protect and serve is my answer. Beyond such, all else I leave to Mother."

"I'm positive that failed to answer the question."

"Perchance you asked wrong."

"Then who do you protect and serve?"

"Those Mother has selected."

"Is Lauren one of them?"

"A good question, but alas, at present, such answers are unknown."

"I sure hope you're a game warden."

In silence, John followed Alron back to the camp. Finding Lauren in a deep sleep, he wanted to shake her awake, demanding answers. In his mind, science should hold the key to unlocking mysteries, but in a world filled with magic, John felt like a sheep in a cattle's pen: out of place. Grabbing the blankets, he looked up at the blazing stars, "Mother, if you're up there, please look after my friend Lauren." It was both a heartfelt request and a cold surrender: in a world void of science, faith was the only currency.

*******

The next day, John was sitting with Mirtza on the bench. "Do you know where we're going?"

"From the look of those mountains, I imagine they are taking us to meet dwarves."

### Chapter 9

Deep in the Newlands, the man sitting in the chair never turned when the soldier clad in black entered the tent.

"Sir, there is no word on the riders."

"Something has gone wrong. Send more to check on the forest. Deploy one-quarter to the west and north. Find me whoever or whatever did... just find them."

"Sir, that will cause havoc with our plans."

"Would it be easier if I ordered you to be hung?"

"All will be done as ordered."

*******

Snow-capped mountains had been growing on the horizon each day, and today, on the last day of the journey, they entered the foothills. With the tall mountains blocking the setting suns, darkness arrived earlier than expected. Stopping in front of a mountain rock face, Alron jumped off his stag, and pounding on the cliff-face, a large door opened.

Then a dwarf standing about four-feet tall emerged, "Worried we were." His voice was rich, thick, seeming to resonate from deep inside him, rolling up as if it was escaping from a mineshaft, which somehow amplified its bulky texture but not the volume. Unlike the elves, whose words sounded song like, it took a few seconds to understand the dwarven speech.

Lauren turned to Mirtza, "What did he say?"

Handing her the translation ointment, he explained how to apply it.

Alron turned to the wagon, "May I introduce your host, Bor Ironhouse."

With the door opening wide enough to accommodate the wagon, they entered a large stable carved out of solid rock. As the elves dismounted, putting their stags into pens, nobody noticed Ryan becoming slightly nervous. After Bor told Mirtza where to store the oxen, instead of changing them back into gold amulets, which may have alarmed the dwarves or elves, he put them in the selected pen. Exiting the wagon, the six claimed their meager possessions, but Lauren firmly clutched the staff and leaf pouch. Even though the stable was huge, the space seemed empty by comparison, **as** it was large enough to hold several hundred animals, yet only a dozen small ponies called it home.

After Bor closed the large outer door, he headed to the back of the stable, and the others followed. Turning down a corridor, he stopped a short distance away. His deep voice echoed off the stonewalls, amplifying it even more. "Asleep are my brothers. Wait for a proper welcome, you will have to." Then he opened a door, "Here are the old cavalry quarters. Grand, maybe not, but adequate. Look in the far cabinet for fresh sheets." He pointed to the doors at the opposite end, "Comfort awaits you, so leaves no more."

"I shall return in the morning," advised Alron. "Of your troubles, such are now behind you, so rest."

With that, Bor and the elves left, closing the door behind. The last few days had been hard on the six, **as** the nights had been growing colder. There were over a hundred beds in the room, so like Little Red Riding Hood, each tested one until they found one that felt right. Eric, unable to see a bed long enough, slept on the floor with several blankets. Almost instantly, they fell asleep after lying down, except for Ryan. The last thing he muttered was _I hate caves_ , but being so tired, he soon forgot about the enclosed space.

*******

After Bor had followed Alron up to the sleeping quarters, he waited for him to go into the Earth Mother's room as expected. When sure all would remain quiet, he walked across the hall, knocking on his brother's door before entering.

"Aaro, arrived have the awaited."

From the darkness, a thick deep voice answered, "Wake me for this? Why?"

"Brother, traveling with them, a giant walks."

Sitting up, Aaro raised the wick in the oil lamp beside the bed. "Giant?"

"Me plus half tall."

"Sword tall?"

"Close, but taller I think."

"Brother, what does this mean?"

"That answer, many wish to know."

*******

While Alron tried to let them sleep in late, Bor was anxious. "Ready within the hour, the breakfast greeting will be. Hungry they will remain if late they are. Know my brothers you do, and wait they will not." Going down to the cavalry barracks, he banged on the door before entering. With a loud, deep voice, he woke all. "Up are the suns, and ended has the time for sleep. Waiting are many, and if that delay is short, best it would be!" Walking around the room, he handed out pails and towels, kicking any beds with bodies still asleep in them. Even though true dwarf hospitality dictated flipping the beds, Alron had insisted that he go easy. Bor pointed to the back door, "Running water waits in there, so presentable make yourselves. Scruffy lads, if those are not beards, smooth you should be. For that, I left my Mammy's razor."

Much to Zack's relief, they were individual stalls, so he proceeded to the farthest. Designed for much smaller occupants, they were tight, which Lauren muttered at under her breath. When first given the buckets, they thought them for a different reason, but standing in the shower, it became apparent. On the far wall, four-feet above the base, carved into the rock was a spiral pattern of large holes, and a foot beneath it, a stone plug. Pulling on the second, water gushed forth from the first, but arcing out, it landed two-feet from the wall, and as it only hit most in the chest, they had to use the buckets to wash their upper body and hair. Experiencing the fewest problems, John was the first to finish.

Staring at the water for several minutes, the half-shower, as he called it, had Eric confused, but all heard his exclamation, "Sons of a motherless goat!"

As he continued to clean up, the others returned to the main dormitory. There Bor was finishing laying out fresh garments, "Midlander clothes left behind by guests. Tight they may be, but smell they do not."

Mirtza had brought in one of his bags and extracted a fresh set of clothing.

When Eric entered ten minutes later, nicks covered his face, **as** he had never used a straight razor before. Seeing everybody dressed in the strange clothing, he smiled, "You guys clean up good." Walking over to where he had slept, he found his old clothes, "What about me?"

"You, you up there!" began Bor. "Retrieve my festival best for you, I will, but wearing it, comical you will look. Known you were coming, a frost beast we would have slain. With no notice, the same was our preparations. Iron and Ore, big you are. Strong is your scent, but Mammy's flowery water lessened it. Smell they do, but presentable they are. Understand this, in this range, only one thing is big enough to cloak you."

"What's that?"

"Mountain shadow." When all were ready, Bor led them through a maze of tunnels to a large dining hall. There they saw an enormous low table with the meal, and standing in front, a group of elves and dwarves.

Alron was the first to step forward, "May I introduce you to Panry Moonshadow, Cethail Highbreeze, Erust Huntinghawk, Babartin and Careel Dawnfalcon. These are your hosts: Aaro, Bor, Fen, Fodu, Gor, Hakk, and their father, Master Weapon Smith Ironhouse. Last but not least, Gingaar Huntinghawk and Earth Mother," and the deer-like ears on the last two made it clear they were elves. He continued, "Dwarf and Elf, I am proud to introduce our new friends: Mirtza, Lauren, her brother Logan, Eric, Ryan, Zack, and last, John."

Seeing Eric, the Weapon Smith's mood immediately changed. Having spent so many hours around the forges, he had become crusty or leathery in appearance. Over the years, he had seen too much that he disliked, some of which still weighed heavily on his heart. However, the vision of Eric appeared to reset his disposition.

The deep baritone voice of Bor made a booming proclamation, "Hot is the food, so rejoice and celebrate Ironhouse style. Tradition states, guests go first. Hungry are my brothers, so waste no time."

Yes, the situation was extraordinary, but after going through a wormhole, finding yourself in a new world with magic, and meeting elves, being greeted by welcoming dwarves seemed normal.

"Bor, can you please help me decide," Lauren began, " **as** it all looks so good, but it's also strange."

With him naming each dish, trying to describe the taste, the rest followed. There were buns and bread with an assortment of spreads and jams. Many items looked familiar: pancakes, eggs, fried vegetables, and similar. They avoided the pickled meats, goat's eyes, anything with the word tongue in it, and the stinky cheeses. Much to their surprise, most were similar, but they hastily set aside distasteful items. The beverage selection made Zack smile, **as** he thought it righteous the breakfast should include beer.

John felt out of place in the assembled group, **as** he was used to looking up at everybody. Here the dwarves were about four-feet tall, and the elves stood approximately four-feet-six. Standing in the room, he looked directly into almost everybody's eyes – unless he attended school with them.

While the dwarves dressed in fine dyed buckskin shirts and pants, the elves had on pastel-colored woven garments, and the Earth Mother and Gingaar both wore floral dresses that swept the ground.

Intrigued by Lauren and wanting to get a better look at the staff, the Earth Mother waited to avoid arousing suspicion. After Lauren had served herself, she headed back over to Alron. When the Earth Mother felt sure the young girl was distracted, she turned her gaze towards the staff – only to find it had disappeared. Perplexed, she failed to remember seeing where the girl had set it down.

Most of the morning's activities involved meeting new faces and trying to remember distinguishing traits. Aaro Ironhouse was the eldest son, the Weapon Smith Apprentice. Standing four-feet tall, with muscular features, he had a short beard, which was unlike the other dwarves. In several conversations, he explained, if allowed to grow, the forge would trim it back.

Bor was the second oldest and the tallest, being almost the same height as an elf. His beard was long, extending down to his belt, but every few inches he had tied a band around it, creating a long thick beard rope. There was a military presence to him and scars, which covered his hands and forearms. These were often a source for his endless stories, but at present, he insisted on keeping them short, saying he needed more time to do them justice.

Fen was the third born. While not the tallest, he was certainly the largest. One of his primary tasks was to work the forge bellows, which resulted in massive arms and legs that his clothes had difficulty containing. He was also odd as both his chin and scalp were bald, making him look out of place.

Fodu was a goldsmith. Divided and tied behind his neck, his beard length equaled Bor's, exposing a magnificent gold pendant in the shape of a dwarf ax on a gold chain.

Gor was the cook, and much like his Pappy who ruled the forges, his domain was the kitchen. Lacking a full beard, he had large mutton-chop sideburns covering his cheeks, explaining a beard made it difficult to work in the kitchen. Checking with the guests, he wanted to identify the dishes they both liked and disliked.

Hakk, the youngest of the six brothers, had been the captain of the cavalry. While considered young for such a position, his skill of fighting on war ponies was second-to-none. When the cavalry had left so many years ago, he felt it his duty to go with them. However, **as** tradition outweighed duty, he remained.

The elves were harder to tell apart, **as** they were all the same height, give or take a few inches. Even though their hair and eyes were both jet-black, John noticed the one subtle difference: all wore belts, but each belt-buckle was different, except for Babartin and Careel Dawnfalcons. Inquiring about this, Alron explained how each buckle represented the various family crests, but Zack would later suggest jerseys with numbers.

It was two hours later when Bor stood in the center of the group, "Smell a fresh story, I do, from our friends new. Open the great hall we will, with blessings from father."

The Earth Mother stepped forward, "Mayhap after I have heard such first."

When Bor had first mentioned opening the great hall, all the dwarf's faces reacted with delight, but the last words spoken turned their looks to disappointment. Bor looked down to the ground, "Take you to your rooms, I will."

As the Earth Mother watched them leave, Lauren was holding the staff, and its reappearance increased her intrigue. She turned to Gingaar, "With that young girl, such I wish to meet."

Bor and Gingaar led them into a large greeting chamber, and huge floor to ceiling murals adorned the walls, depicting dwarves in battle. They continued up a set of stairs, and at the top, Bor took them down a short hall. "Choose from these rooms you may. Constructed to accommodate your size, they are." Opening the doors to the guest rooms, each one was similar, except for wall colors. There was a carved-stone bedframe with a feather-stuffed mattress, a chest of drawers, a table with chairs, a small fireplace, and each had its own washroom with a tub or shower. In addition, each room had a window four-feet tall, twelve-inches wide, with wooden shutters.

Bor looked at Eric, "Enjoy these rooms you should. From the ceiling, water flows, not the wall. These are guest quarters. Well known it is, not all guests share our size or likes. Employed were reasonable sizes, to increase your pleasure. At the hall's end, find a room to meet, you will."

"Thank you for your hospitality, but I have one question, if I may?" asked Eric. "I understand why these rooms are this size, but all the other rooms and halls in this place are so big, and yet you guys are, well, so short."

"Eric!" scolded Lauren, attempting to erase the politically incorrect question.

Failing to understand, Bor replied. "Little one, lack size we may, but trust me, everything dwarf does, dwarf does large."

"Little one?" repeated Eric.

"Size matters not. When bigger than life you are, no longer will you be small. Be like dwarf, build big."

After Gingaar had finished making the beds and refreshing the rooms, she approached Lauren. "Earth Mother wishes a meet. Would such be acceptable?"

"I would enjoy that very much," replied Lauren, _I think_

"I shall return in two hours."

With all being tired from the early morning awakening, they each headed to a room for a short nap.

*******

Several hours later, Gingaar led Lauren to a terrace with a panoramic view of the foothills and mountains, and she saw the Earth Mother sitting at a table with a pot of tea.

The Earth Mother looked at her for several minutes, "Well, child, we have been waiting for you. Of your story, tell myself."

"What do you mean; you've been waiting?"

"First, your story."

Even though Lauren started with the school day and accident, her host never asked to have the details clarified. Explaining the arrival, she continued with the rest of the details, ending with their appearance at Ironhouse, but omitted the events in the covered forest, the riders, and the strange happenings occurring to her along the way.

"Now, of the interesting parts, tell such to myself."

"What do you mean?"

"When Alron was first met, he watched you defend against one stronger, kill as well, and you know of our waters that heal." She leaned forward, "May I see your staff?" Lauren had been holding it the entire time, **as** it had become her security blanket. After passing it to the Earth Mother, she examined it from end to end, "Of this, can you explain that which I now hold."

"It's just a stick I found."

The Earth Mother pointed to one of the three intertwined trees, "This is Iron Wood, and such grows straight and tall. Not any saw, ax, or fire can harm such. Not even young trees can I pick, yet you possess such, so how can this be?"

"The ground was dry where I found it, so maybe it was dead?"

"Should such be true, you would be dead." Then the Earth Mother passed the staff back.

Nervously, Lauren stated, "I feel a little tired," and then she stood, leaving with her staff in hand and without asking permission.

After Gingaar escorted her back, she returned to the Earth Mother. "These six, are such the awaited ones?"

"Yes, but expect this I did not. Wait and welcome Mother advised, but not once did she say why, so mysteries new greet us this day. Her staff, did you see such?" Not waiting for a reply, she continued, "Eighty years I served before Mother granted a staff of Iron Wood, yet in weeks of two, young Lauren has not one staff of power, but three. The second is Sage Wood: the knowledge of Mother. The first Earth Mother, ten generations past, received such, **as** Mother was young and needed help. Sage Wood advised the First of the special places, ones with the gift, and more. The last was Core Wood: the power of Mother. All three live and great is their strength." Visibly shaken by the words, Gingaar continued to listen. "Mother granted the daughter of the First a special gift, a Core Wood staff, **as** difficulties were great: forests withered, seasons were short then long, wet then dry, and foul creatures attacked all. Mother needed help with many issues, and the Second corrected such. I still remember the stories passed from mother to daughter, ten generations in all."

"I also remember," replied Gingaar.

"I need to think, so we shall talk more tomorrow." With that, Gingaar left. The Earth Mother looked to the sky, "Mother, so much power. One so young? Of your mind, have you lost such!"

### Chapter 10

The sleeping quarters were on the second level, and to get to the great hall or dining room, you had to go through the grand entrance. This was a spacious room carved out of solid rock, which was forty-feet in diameter and had a thirty-foot high ceiling. A large clear crystal had replaced the top ten-feet of the roof at the front, so fresh sunlight washed away the darkness. Each side of the room had two curving staircases going down to the lower level: one being dwarf-sized, one larger for guests. The room featured two large murals of dwarves engaging in battle. The one on the guest side depicted dwarves fighting a white dragon, and the other was a winter scene with dwarves fighting giant white bears and huge men in furs.

Rising early, Lauren looked at both of the murals as she walked down the stairs, and arriving in the kitchen, Gor advised the meal preparations were still in process, so he suggested she should wait in the dining room. Doing as asked, she saw the elfin Earth Mother sitting at the back but left before being seen.

Minutes later, Alron walked and sat with the elder elf.

"This night, Lauren I shall proclaim Earth Daughter. She is Mother Chosen."

"Of this, did you tell her?"

"No, as I fear questions many she shall ask."

"Are you sure? Odd she is, but Mother Chosen?"

"That staff she carries. A gift from Mother, gifts of three: power, knowledge, and strength."

"She is not a child."

"Mother to myself spoke last night, so I must proclaim her. After the meal, escort myself from the hall, so I can... can – so I can reflect."

*******

They were all present for an elaborate breakfast prepared by Gor that morning, and when done, Bor advised he had arranged a tour of the mine, but Ryan declined. When done, Aaro with Hakk led Mirtza and the remaining guests deep into the Ironhouse Mine. While the corridors were tall, Eric had to watch his head on doorways. Having done their best to accommodate normal sized guests, Eric exceeded that measurement, and even though most doors and archways accommodated his height, they had never seen feet so large, feet that literally dwarfed the steps he tried to walk on. First, stopping at a lesser armory, Aaro pointed out the smaller forges, demonstrating how they made armor and more.

Next, they arrived at a workshop where Fodu was diligently toiling away. Even though he attempted to clean it, thick layers of dust still covered most: a result of his ten-year absence. When the mine emptied, **because** of the cursed sword, there was no reason to craft jewelry. That day he found an interesting brooch completed years ago; a beautiful gold pin with platinum inlays, decorated with tiny diamonds, rubies, and sapphires for sparkle. The best part was the little hinges allowing it to move as if it was alive. When Aaro and Hakk brought the group in, he showed them his work and talked about the properties of the metals, but becoming so engrossed in his passion, he rambled on.

Coughing to get his brother's attention, the small room intensified the thick, deep voices of the dwarves, "To show our friends, much remains. Speak more you can the day next, if a desire to hear your words they still have," advised Aaro.

As they started leaving, Fodu called out, "Wait. Required are their sizes." He moved over to the group holding a large ring with several dozen smaller finger rings attached to it. Going to each one, he asked which one they wanted a ring for before measuring it. When Eric held out his hand, Fodu could not find a sample big enough. "Make the biggest I will, if too big..." He looked up at Eric, "Make it big I will." Instead of approaching Lauren, he turned his back.

Perhaps they reserve the rings for the males?

After setting down his notes and measuring rings, Fodu picked up the pin and went to her. Unfolding his hands, he displayed the beautiful jewel-encrusted golden butterfly. While breathtaking, it was the wings rising and falling that made her gasp for several reasons. First, it seemed like an incredibly expensive item, at least back home. Second, it looked alive, and last, as it was a butterfly, she wondered if it was a message.

Fodu reached up to pin it on her.

"No, I can't accept this. It's too much."

"Friend Lauren, cherish it you should, else no value it has. Too much or too little, make that decision I will. Collect dust, finely crafted items should not, so accept it, please."

Taking the brooch, she attached it to her blouse before kissing Fodu on his forehead, "Thank you."

Aaro and Hakk then escorted the group to a massive set of double doors, and once opened, a large black cavern stood before them. Walking to a spot a few feet inside, Hakk turned a knob, and then, raising his torch to reveal a hole in the wall, a trail of fire raced around the room, consuming the darkness to expose a vast chamber.

"Friends, pride of Ironhouse," proclaimed Aaro. In the center of the room was a large stone cauldron, eight-feet tall and six-feet in diameter. Surrounding it, metal scaffolding with wooden planks, and overhead, cranes and pulleys hovered. The room had two parts: the first being sixteen-feet tall by thirty-feet wide, and everything in it was devoted to the forge. The back of the room was eight-feet tall, but the raised floor started eight-feet from the ceiling, so the scaffolding had a level walk to the back of the room. Aaro explained how they filled the forge with the hardest coals before firing them. He pointed to a door, "To the bellows, that way goes – where Fen gained his size and lost his hair. Move the air to heat the coals, it does, and needed much we did with a forge this size."

"Why's it so large?" asked John.

"Make a big forge smaller," began Aaro, "add spacers. Make it bigger we cannot, if too small, so envy our forge, all clans did."

Walking to the far end of the room, they climbed to the upper level. There Aaro explained how they filled the forge with coals, mixing the ores before introducing them to the heat, and the joys of watching ore turn into a liquid.

When Aaro started explaining the tools, Hakk spoke up, "Brother, a competition this is not. With Bor, around him too long you have been. A tour this is, not an apprenticeship class."

"Brother is right, and continue we should. Time of great has passed since we last chased the dark from her."

As they climbed down the ladders, John used the far one, and arriving at the lower level, he was surprised. "Aaro, what happened here?" After everyone wandered over, they all saw the large six-inch wide crack measuring seven-feet tall in the stone forge.

"Friend John, the question is short, but the answer is not. Built something grand Ironhouse did, and required was great heat, too great. Asked too much from my beloved forge, we did. That day, lost was the battle. Now heat-broken, birth our dreams no longer will she. Wounded mortally, she now sits dark-shrouded."

Lauren looked at him. _He mourns the loss of a loved one._

Hakk, seeing his brother like this, spoke up, "To the upper levels, we will go." He then led the tour group back up the twisting tunnels, **as** Aaro stood there without realizing he was alone. Hakk showed them the dwarf and elf sleeping quarters, and other rooms on the second level. Leading them to the upper floors, he explained there were more above – but all were empty. Even though the tour lasted for another hour, nothing compared to the spectacular rooms on the lower levels.

*******

Before the last meal of the day started, Fodu walked up to Mirtza and the five lads, handing them a cloth with a ring inside. Each one had the likeness of a mountain on it, the Ironhouse crest. Fodu then proudly said, "Friends of Ironhouse you are. If in trouble, find dwarf. Show them the ring, and help they will."

As the meal was about to start, the Earth Mother had Lauren sit beside her. Before Gor brought in the food, she stood, tapping her wine mug with a knife. She had Lauren stand beside her, "Mother advised that friend Lauren has the gift, so I hereby proclaim her to be Earth Daughter." Everybody raised their glasses, giving her a cheer, but secretly, her friends wondered what was happening.

Failing to understand what had transpired, Lauren felt like she should say something, but before she knew it, everybody was eating.

The Earth Mother looked up, "Sit, else your food shall become cold." As she did, the Earth Mother placed a small gold and silver stickpin beside Lauren's plate. It had a diamond at the top, surrounded by a gold leaf. Without saying anything else, she continued to eat.

Lauren took a sip of wine. _I'm an Earth Daughter? What the..._

*******

With one sentence, everything changed. The next morning, all the elves and dwarves, including Mirtza, called her Earth Daughter. While her friends did the same, she sensed the sarcasm.

After breakfast, she wandered up to the guest quarters, finding John standing beside the open doorway facing the outside terrace. An unexpected storm had formed quickly, which now raged outside.

"I guess congratulations are in order."

"What the hell's an Earth Daughter?"

"You didn't know?"

"No. I talked with her yesterday morning, but we didn't... It was a quick conversation. I wanted to talk last night, but she left before I could ask anything. This morning, she wasn't at breakfast. I tried to talk to her again, but the elves said she was busy."

As they watched the lightning explode across the sky, illuminating some mountaintops, silhouetting others, John had a sensation of foreboding in the pit of his stomach. After one horrific explosion of thunder, they both jumped, seeing Aaro standing behind them.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were there," advised Lauren.

"Earth Daughter, speak in private with you, may I?"

"Yes, what's bothering you?"

"Not here, so follow please."

Before they left, John turned to both, "Aaro, do you normally get storms this bad this time of the year?"

"Storms yes; storms like that, no."

With the answer sounding wrong, John was unsure of what to make of the words Aaro spoke, but with such an intense storm stalled over the Ironhouse Mine, in this strange world, he had an impression somebody or something was upset.

Aaro led her to a meeting hall on an upper level, certain no one would interrupt them there, and when seated, he began. "Argued with my Pappy, I did last night for long hours. Listen he would not. Stubborn and old he is, and easier to mine granite than to change his mind. Earth Daughter, ask a favor my Pappy will, when done is the meal. Decline you can, but first, understand all you should."

_What now!_ "Please, tell me more," Lauren said cautiously.

"Twenty years past, called Ironhouse home, many dwarf did. Marching west, welcomed were the eastern clans. Then we were many, crowded, but all was good. There is more, but take longer to explain that will. One day, gathering his sons, Pappy... the Master Weapon Smith issued many orders." As the story began, long-forgotten memories flooded back. Their father had them fetch a large keg of mead, a huge platter of the best dwarven foods and said to take both to a hidden room on the main floor. While the reason for the celebration was unknown, they were dwarf, so it was unimportant. With each lending a hand, they prepared the room for the festivities, wondering what the occasion was. However, when their father arrived, he told them to leave and guard the door so that none interrupted. While odd, Master Weapon Smiths had special privileges granted, and not even a drunken dwarf wished to anger one with such a title, so they took turns standing guard. Late into the night, Aaro was outside the door when Bor arrived to relieve him, and they both heard shouting from the room. Wondering if somebody had gained access, they opened the door, but only their father was present, and he told them to _get out_. When Hakk showed up, Bor and Aaro were still listening to the argument inside.

The following day, their father cracked open the door, ordering a keg of dwarf ale and another large platter of food. Throughout the day, the conversation inside continued, and on the third day, he ordered more food with stronger beer. When taken inside, the hall was a mess, looking like a hundred dwarves had celebrated for a hundred years, but their father, the sole occupant, refused to look at them. On the fourth day, he ordered more food with harder drinks, repeating the instructions on the fifth and sixth days. Each day, the conversations became louder, **as** the rock walls could no longer silence the heated exchange. As the stories spread, dwarves that should have been in the lower levels all found a reason to walk by the room, listening to the conversation inside. Then, like unseen vapors in a mine, rumors drifted from dwarf to dwarf, spreading the infection that the Master Weapon Smith had gone mad. On the sixth night, all the brothers stood outside the door, trying to keep the curious ears away, and that was when the loudest argument of all erupted; so loud, they feared those deep in the mines also heard. Then, in the middle of it, all heard the ancient language spoken, dwarven words unheard for centuries. The argument would go loud, then quiet, then even louder, sounding long into the night, and questioning dwarfs at both ends of the corridors jammed the hall. On the seventh day, he called for ceremonial wine, which was never drank alone, and a feast fit for a dozen dwarves: roasted boar, goat, birds, and more. They asked if they should open the great hall, but he said to bring it all to him.

"I don't understand where this story's going?"

"Compete with Bor and storytelling, I cannot." Images of opening the door on the eighth day flooded back into Aaro's vision. The room had been quiet for too many hours, and with the amount of alcohol they had taken in, there was no way one dwarf could drink so much and live. Five or six days possibly, but no dwarf had ever drank for seven days straight. They found him on the floor, the hall a mess, and all the food and alcohol consumed. He remembered carrying their father up to his room that morning, and before the rest of the mine had woken, putting him to bed and rushing back to help clean up. For three days, their father slept, but on the fourth, he rose. Even though they hoped the spells were over, they were wrong. His father told Bor to assemble a squad, ordering him to retrieve a barrel of trollmare blood. Sent to the distant mountain valleys, Aaro received orders to bring back virgin snowmelt from an ice shield: untainted and pure. Returning, he found his father personally selecting the finest ores and coals. However, when he offered to get apprentices to complete the menial task, his father declined with angered eyes.

Lauren was having trouble absorbing the words, **as** his thick voice silently echoed in the small room.

"To hide forge heat, it is not possible. Wanted were answers by all, but give none would Pappy." Aaro remembered the day his father had brought him the cast drawing, to receive the molten metal. As it was strange, he had started to ask questions, but any named Master Weapon Smith were above reproach, and the intense look suggested he should begin the construction. He still remembered lighting a fire under the forge, feeling the blast of air from the bellows, and watching the coals turn from black to bright orange. Then, seeing his father walk in, he pushed a cart of the finest ores. When the forge was hot enough, they lowered the hard metals into the heat, and all watched the metal transform into a liquid. When he thought about extracting the molten metal, his father ordered him to stop. Retrieving a heavy wooden box, his father dumped in a bag of diamond chips, an ingredient never added before, three named weapons, and his precious sky rock.

Mesmerized by the story, the last sentence startled Lauren. "What do you mean by sky rock? And the weapons three?"

"Of the weapons three, there is no time for that story this night. Of the sky rock, simple and short is the story. Years of thirty past, from the sky, something fell. Seeing it, Pappy searched and found a massive crater. Buried at the bottom was the sky rock. Ask him the same, and take a week it will for him to tell all." Aaro then explained how the dwarves called his father mad as he threw in the three named weapons. Being the Master Weapon Smith, he had no reason to care and ordered all back to work. Since the new items only floated on top of the hot metal broth, their father called to the bellows for more air, and slowly, the new items began melting. When Aaro saw impurities rise to the top, he reached for the skimmer, but his father called out, _Leave them. If pure born, fail it shall_. When melted and poured into the cast, they waited two days for it to cool down. Opening it shocked all of the dwarves, **as** neither a great battle-ax nor battle hammer greeted them. Instead, a sword, but more than a sword, **as** it was longer than a dwarf stood tall. He still remembered the echoing slurs against his father, calling him crazy, mad, and insane. Only the sounds of the eastern clans leaving on mass drowned out the insults. Then of how he had called out; _Sons of Ironhouse, finish this weapon we will_. Aaro explained how they tempered and stretched the metal, strengthening it with quenching. He elaborated, explaining if you heated the metal for too long or worked it after cooling, that it would become brittle.

"Here, the story becomes strange," advised Aaro.

Like that is even possible!

The memories seemed more like a dream, rather than something witnessed. The sword they had poured was thick and long, **as** the mold design was to let the metal cool equally, but its shape was wrong. He remembered seeing Fen go down to the lower level alone, to work the bellows, **as** the rest tended the sword in the forge, following their father's instructions and hammering the hard metal to make it longer. After the first visit to the forge, their father told them to quench it in the virgin snowmelt: _so purity it will know_. He remembered how the words sounded un-dwarf like, but if his father wanted to talk differently, it was well within his privileges. Aaro explained how they kept taking it back to the forge, working the metal, making it longer and stronger. How they quenched it in ceremonial wine: _so heritage it will know_. Then they quenched it in dwarf ale: _so_ pleasure _it will know_ , but the fourth time there was no quenching liquid. Their father ordered it left on a table, a dry quench: _so pain it will know_. That night, Aaro slept beside the sword, being afraid it may become so brittle it would fracture, and of the sounds made as the metal contracted, sounding like screams.

He continued the story, "After days of seven, taken back to the forge again it was. Ashamed, we all thought Pappy was mad, but none had ever seen metal so hard." He explained the two battles fought that day: the sword fought the forge, and Fen battled the bellows, adding many beards were forge-trimmed due to the great heat. "She, my forge... asked too much we did, and continue the battle, she could not. Heard by all was the deafening crack: her scream of pain. As well, my heart broke, heard only by me. Dark shrouded, she now sits alone." Once the sword surrendered to the heat, they hammered it longer, and afterwards, quenched it in Iron Wood sap: _so_ strength _it will know_ , advised their father. That was when Fen stumbled out, half his size, bald, and soaked in sweat. "Needing liquids to rehydrate him, ale was a poor choice. Stopped sooner, we should have, but another story that is. The sword was now two-feet longer than I stood tall. Asked by all, _why build such a weapon_ , thinking our Pappy had forge-brain: cooked by heat."

He remembered when Bor returned to the mine with the keg of trollmare blood, and seeing his shocked look; watching him mouth questions he would never speak. Aaro then explained how all thought their father's sanity had returned, **as** he seemed to have forgotten about the sword. However, it did not last long. One day, he ordered the sword and keg of blood taken to the mountaintop. Once at the summit, his father hammered the sword into the rock, and in the distance, an approaching angry storm filled the sky, which looked similar to the current atmospheric disturbance. Then, as thunder exploded overhead, lightning bolt after bolt struck the sword. The punishment, so intense, cracked the mountain, and the sword was so hot that it was not possible to look at the glowing metal. How the brothers cowered from the storm, some even saying they heard dwarves crying in fear – but none would admit it. Then, when the fury of the storm calmed, how they pulled it out of the cracked mountain with tongs and quenched it in the red foul smelling liquid.

"Hissed and howled, it did. _So evil it will_ know, came from my Pappy. Taken to his workshop the next day it was, and worked on it alone, he did for days of thirty. When seen next, incredible it was, polished bright with runes carved on both sides."

"Runes?" asked Lauren.

Aaro explained the ancient symbols of power for strength, protection, and more, only seen in paintings or heard in stories. After their father brought the sword to him for sharpening, he used three stones to make the edges, but his father rejected the work, demanding better. He then told Lauren how they sharpened the steel, using special metal gloves to protect their hands from both the stone and the edge. Holding out his, she saw the old scars, many of which looked deep. Before finishing it, he used three more stones, making the edge so sharp that the metal gloves no longer provided protection.

"Shave time with that edge, you can, if late you are. Smiled my Pappy did. Again, taken to his shop it was. Ordered a scabbard from me, demanding it plain and unworthy of the sword: _so humility it will know_." Aaro paused, wishing he had brought a keg, "Earth Daughter, required are names for great weapons, **as** bestow strength and fortunes good to those named champions, it will. Great passion crafts great weapons, but this sword, beyond great it is. Thus, required is a name to match, **as** forged is its destiny in that name. Take you to the sword, I now will."

The story overwhelmed Lauren. "Purity, heritage, pleasure, strength, pain, evil, and humility; it almost sounds like your father was trying to teach a child lessons. Is that common with forging weapons, or is it a ceremony?"

"A ceremony it was not, Earth Daughter. Spoken before, never have such words been said. When started, all thought a sword. Now, none are sure, but correct you may be. Thought often I have; what we did, what Pappy said, and never was I able to sum it so truthfully."

Having never heard a story like this, Lauren was stunned. She followed Aaro in silence, utterly dumbfounded, **as** he led the way down to the main level through the maze of tunnels and stairs. Stopping in front of a blank wall, he placed a hand on a nondescript spot, causing a door to open. Inside, a small room able to accommodate less than forty people, and against the far wall was a huge fireplace, truly too big for the room. Lauren stopped to look at the sword above the mantel, which was magnificent, but as she approached, Aaro stopped her.

"That sword is six-feet long. How's a dwarf ever going to use it?"

"A grand weapon: the pride and curse of Ironhouse, but for dwarf to use, it is too big."

Turning to look at the sword in the cold room, she saw what looked like vapors surrounding it. "How long ago was it made?"

"Fifteen-years gone."

"Steam still rises from it? Is it still hot?"

"Touch it, and find it cold you will."

"Then why does it look like it's still cooling down?"

"Anger." Aaro's response was genuinely serious, "Upset with us, it still is."

Lauren's eyebrows raised. "What do you mean?"

"Prepare you for this, I needed to. Embraced is the forge heat, **because** birthed is its purpose. Tortured and forge taken six-times, seven with the mountain, a feat unheard of. When done, locked in here it was, and fifteen-years gone, forgotten it remained: steaming mad."

"I don't think I understand."

"Seek counsel from Earth Mother, and explain all I have said. If accepted, understand this. There are two parts. First is the naming ceremony, and presented to you, the sword will be."

"What are they like?"

"Named a weapon, Ironhouse has never, so advise you I cannot, but Earth Mother can. Revealed will be the champion in the second ceremony in days of seven, spoken by the Master Weapon Smith. Talked much I have, so seek counsel with Earth Mother. If naming brings no desire, then do not name it, and no shame will befall you. Now, go to your room we will."

Even though Aaro was standing at the open door, Lauren could not stop staring at the sword, which fifteen-years later was still steaming mad.

### Chapter 11

Back in her room, Lauren thought about everything Aaro had said, **as** the image of the sword smoldered in her memory. She sat on the edge of the bed for about an hour, watching the storm vent its frustration – paling by comparison to her own. _Earth Daughter and naming weapons; what's next?_ Deciding to heed Aaro's advice, she searched for the Earth Mother.

While her bedchamber door was open, Alron was standing in front.

"May I please see the Earth Mother?"

"No."

"Aaro said I should—" began a frustrated Lauren.

"Alron, grant her entrance."

After the elf had stepped aside, Lauren entered. "Aaro suggested I should talk to you. Do you have a few free minutes?"

She saw that Lauren had a concern, "Earth Daughter is troubled?"

"Can't you call me Lauren?"

"No, you are now Earth Daughter."

"Whatever. After dinner tonight, Aaro said the Master Weapon Smith will ask a favor: to name a sword."

The Earth Mother was unaware of a weapon, especially one requiring a naming ceremony. While having seen a few named weapons over the years, she failed to understand them or the significance, **as** it was more of a dwarf ritual than an elf ceremony.

"Aaro told me about the sword, and it was a fantastic tale, but I don't know what to make of it. He told me of the great honor to name such a weapon, but parts have me confused. I don't know what I should do."

"Was the story long and perchance, could have been much shorter?"

Lauren nodded.

"Dwarf, great is their admiration for stories long, and as such, they often exaggerate, but a naming ceremony is without purpose. Such is their belief that names bestow power or courage to that which is forge-born, but such is untrue. Much like when a child is born, they hope the name makes such great, but the forge decides that. Fret not, Earth Daughter, and name the shiny sword to make the Master Weapon Smith smile."

There was no way Lauren could recite the lengthy story, but if shown to the Earth Mother, she would better understand. "Can we go find Aaro, so he can explain?"

"I have many plans this day and no such time for stories long. Earth Daughter. Such is but a simple naming ceremony without consequence."

"Well, okay. Will you have time later to talk today?"

"I shall send for you when I do."

After Lauren left, the elfin Earth Mother thought about going to talk to Aaro, but decided against it, knowing if a little sword worried Mother, she would have advised her.

Lauren spent the day alone with a million thoughts racing through her mind, but none had a happy conclusion. Forming an image in her mind, on one side was the sword in the dark room, steam rising from it. On the other, the Earth Mother sitting calmly, saying it was all meaningless. She wanted to go back, taking Aaro to tell the story, or perhaps have him show her the sword, **as** the contrast between the two images was disturbing. As well, he had been so persistent, suggesting she should seek the Earth Mother for counsel. Finally, deciding when the Earth Mother called, she would demand they go see the sword. However, the first knock on the door was from Eric, telling her it was time to eat, and she wondered what had happened to the day.

As Aaro predicted, the Master Weapon Smith approached her. "Earth Daughter, ask a favor I need to. Spoken in history are the stories of great weapons born in the dwarf forges. Named are the best, **as** it is tradition. Crafted one we did, but named to this day, it is not. Earth Daughter, waiting is our forge-birth for a great name."

"Can we please see it first?" If she was unable to make the Earth Mother go to the sword, Lauren would take her to it. Once seen, she would tell the Master Weapon Smith she would consider naming it the following day, and to her, it seemed like the only win-win situation.

Nodding, the Master Weapon Smith headed out into the hall, followed by the rest carrying their drinks, or in Zack's case, two pitchers of ale.

Only the Ironhouse dwarves knew of the weapon, and when the door opened, everybody stood in awe of the magnificent sword, **as** the size alone immediately drew all eyes to it. Even from twenty-feet away, the deeply carved runes captured the stares, but now reflecting the light from the oil lamps, the highly polished metal looked like a lighthouse beacon on a dark night. However, Aaro and Lauren both noticed the change in its mood, **as** no steam was rising from it. Blowing off the thick dust from the chairs, everybody took a seat.

Gingaar and the Earth Mother were the last to arrive, but looking at the mantle, she never saw the expected little sword: she saw history. The dwarven runes, gifted by Father, erased from history by Mother, stared at her, mocking her. She was expecting a sword, two or three-feet long, but what she saw was not a dwarven sword; it was a harbinger of death. Her mind raced, wondering how to interrupt the ceremony. Trying to stand, she remained sitting, and attempting to speak, she remained quiet. At that moment, she knew Mother was present.

The Master Weapon Smith turned to Aaro, "Present the sword of Ironhouse to Earth Daughter." Going up to the mantle, when Aaro picked up the display rack, Bor pushed a small table into the middle of the room. Walking around Lauren, so his back was to the crowd, he stared at her, but the look on Aaro's face asked if she knew what she was about to do.

Wanting to look at the Earth Mother, Lauren could not take her eyes from the sword and desired to hold it. Picking it up, it was lighter than expected with an incredible balance. Knowing nothing of weapons or making them, she realized it was an extraordinary feat. Running her hand down one side, she examined each deep rune in detail, and turning it over, observed the opposite side. For Lauren, time seemed to stop, but it surprised those who watched her, caressing each side of the sword, looking at her reflection in the polished runes, and tracing her fingers over each. She examined every inch of the sword, becoming visually intoxicated with the beautiful craftsmanship, and without realizing, she had been studying it for over an hour. The crowd of friends, elves, and dwarves watched in amazement, but the Master Weapon Smith just smiled, **as** the Earth Mother struggled to get her voice back. When Lauren ran her hand along the edge, Aaro sucked in his breath. "Do not worry, **as** it will not harm me. It knows I am Earth Daughter." True to her word, the edge that nearly ate Aaro's hand never injured hers, even when she ran it over the razor sharp edge. What happened next, Lauren never expected, **as** she began understanding the deceitful power inside the sword. "Master Weapon Smith, name he who is selected to champion this weapon."

"That is a different ceremony, Earth Daughter."

"Master Smith, whom have you selected?"

"Provide that at the second ceremony, I will."

Lauren spoke again, more forcefully, "Smith! Name the champion! He who will make rivers of blood flow. He who will fill the night with screams of terror. He who no army can destroy. He who has a blood lust that cannot be fulfilled."

It shocked everybody in the room, except the Master Weapon Smith, who failed to understand what was happening. "Please, Earth Daughter, name the sword this night."

Lauren had never held a star in her hand, especially one about to go supernova, and it scared her. Knowing a name was compulsory, she also knew only one person could provide it. "SMITH, IT AWAKENS, SENSES YOUR PRESENCE, AND IT'S NOT PLEASED!" At this point, everybody in the room pushed their chairs back, now uncertain of what was happening. Lauren bellowed, "WALWARD IRONHOUSE, THE NAME, NOW!"

The Earth Mother sensed it: an Earth Bond.

Having been so long since hearing his birth name, it snapped his trance. "Why Eric of course, **as** only he has the size required."

Grabbing him, she thrust the sword hilt into his hand, "Tranquil Fury, this is Eric, the champion, SERVE HIM WELL." Turning to the Master Weapon Smith, she screamed, "WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE!" Then she collapsed to the ground.

The scream from Eric was somewhat different, being more guttural, sounding like both defeat and victory, yet it ended suddenly when he crumpled unconscious to the floor.

The Earth Mother was beyond shocked: the giant sword, the runes, Lauren's words, and more. _Mother, explain that which now happens._ However, the most alarming element was when Lauren said 'SERVE HIM WELL,' **because** she had sensed a second Earth Bond from the Earth Daughter who was unaware of how to issue the first. _Mother, over two-hundred years of service, and not once have_ you ever given myself a reason _to_ release _one. Why do you silence_ myself _?_ Then she prayed. _Mother, send a_ sign _you have not lost your mind!_

*******

Waking to a fresh breeze blowing through the window, Lauren rolled over. _What a dream!_ Stretching her arms, she wiped the sleep from her eyes. _Crap, it wasn't a dream_. She looked around at the elves, dwarves, and her friends, "What's up?"

The Earth Mother spoke first, "Of last night, do you not recall such? The sword named Tranquil Fury?"

As she concentrated, the fog faded away. _GET OUT OF MY HEAD, NOW!_ She sat up, "Where's Eric?"

"He shall be fine and still sleeps."

Lauren grabbed the Earth Mother, a forbidden act, "Where the hell is Eric?"

"In his bed."

Jumping out of bed, she ran into Eric's room, trailed by the others. Shaking him, she lightly slapped his face, but he never stirred. Leaping onto the bed, she straddled him, smacking him harder, "Wake up!" However, he still slept. When Lauren jumped off the bed, a new authority filled her voice. She called to the dwarves, "Get him out of that bed and into that chair. Now!"

Even though Bor began speaking, the look on Lauren's face stopped him cold. He turned to his brothers, "Move, heard Earth Daughter you did!" When a dwarf gives an order, action follows, and all the Ironhouse brothers ran to the bed, pulling Eric out from under the sheets before dragging him to the chair.

Going over, she stood at the front. "Hold him in that chair. DO NOT LET HIM RISE. Bring me cold water, lots, until I tell you to stop." Even the elves showed no signs of hesitation. Her voice was forceful, loud without volume, but even if she had whispered, the elves would have still followed the commands: she was an Earth Daughter, proclaimed by Earth Mother. As two ran to get buckets, one headed to the washroom to fill the tub.

As they waited, Lauren, her eyes now large black orbs, looked at the dwarves. "That which now happens shall be known to all one day, and at that point, minstrels and bards shall start to tell this story. Knowing such should be longer, they shall fight hard to find the right lyrics, and search long for sufficient verses to describe that which now happens. In that story, there shall be one chapter: _Sons of Ironhouse_. Should you fail, such shall be renamed the _Shame of Ironhouse_. You have painted your halls with great feats of battle strength. Today, we will test your legendary strength. Fail me, fail all; I repeat, DO NOT LET HIM RISE!"

Given the opportunity, any dwarf would sacrifice his life for a heroic death – if the bards recited it, **because** it guaranteed immortality. Conversely, less spectacular deaths were also common, but to a dwarf, death was easy. Somebody digs a hole before dropping you in. Maybe cremation awaited them, leaving only ashes. Many in battle remained lost, receiving no burial ceremony, but they most likely never realized what happened. Death was easy: you simply lay there and accepted it. Death began and ended at the same time, being nothing more than a short story: Hit by ax – dead. Bitten by a frost beast – dead. Drown in an ale cask – dead. However, shame was anything but a short story to dwarves. While unable to outrun death, at least, it stopped after finding you. Shame, once it had you, it began hunting for your next of kin, offspring, friends, and more, including generations unborn. In death, you failed yourself, but to fail future generations, labeling them to never achieve anything great, having them look back on you, spitting every time they heard your name. In death, you died, but shame, it made you live forever – but not in a good way. Failure was one thing, but _Fail me, fail all_ added a new dimension to what was happening.

Reaching for the first bucket, Lauren threw the water on Eric, who stirred. The others watched, but when she called for more water, colder water, her friends felt compelled to help. Mirtza, the Earth Mother, and the Master Weapon Smith stood unmoving, uncertain of what was happening. Waiting for another bucket, she slapped or called out to Eric, pinching his cheek, or doing anything to get a reaction. When it failed, she grabbed the next bucket, handed to her by Logan. "Damn it, I need cold freaking water!"

Receiving the next pail, he looked at it, "Be colder?"

The dwarves clinging to Eric shared the same confused thoughts, **as** this was no test of strength, but they desired to get rid of the water.

While the next bucket was cold, the following was even colder.

Water ran down Eric's face as his eyes opened, "What's going on?"

Without looking at the dwarves, she spoke, "Ironhouse, your legend begins now, but unwritten is the ending, so which will you choose?" Eric began struggling. "HE DOES NOT RISE." Then she threw a bucket of cold water, causing Eric to curse and swear, but his delivery was strange, absent of anger, rage, or any other emotion.

She looked at Logan, "I want to see ice in those buckets."

He nodded, failing to understand what he had to do. Aaro and Fodu were lying on the ground, holding Eric's legs to the chair, soaking wet, and drowning in a sea of confusion.

Eric shouted out, "Stop this insanity!"

Looking at Eric with such intensity, Fen, holding an arm behind Eric's back, sensed Lauren's powerful glare. "YOU WILL CALL ME EARTH DAUGHTER." As he struggled harder, Lauren called to the dwarves, "Ironhouse, your ancestors watch. What should I tell them?" Responding to Eric's twisting, the dwarves tightened their grip. Water, cold water, continued to assault him, so much that it now flowed out into the hall and ran down the stairs. Even though Lauren kept screaming for more, nobody questioned her.

Eric looked up, "Lauren...."

She screamed back, "YOU WILL CALL ME EARTH DAUGHTER!" Slapping him, she left a clearly visible imprint. "Do you want me to stop? No? Fine, we'll continue." She then turned to Logan, "Colder."

"For the love..." began Eric.

"YOU WILL CALL ME EARTH DAUGHTER."

Becoming more upset, Eric's struggles grew more intense, but the cold water had a different effect on the dwarves. Six battle-tested warriors, hardened in the mines and forges for years, looked up, and forming a prayer, they hoped somebody would answer it.

She hit Eric again, harder.

"God damn it..."

"YOU WILL CALL ME EARTH DAUGHTER!"

With the struggle becoming more intense, the dwarves heard the chair creaking.

"Ironhouse, shame might sound like a short word, but such shall last a long time. They named your clan after a mountain none thought could tame. Fail me now, and even those who passed before you shall feel your shame."

Holding one of Eric's arms, Bor yelled out, "Ironhouse, dig deep, found in the mountain depths is the best ore. Show Earth Daughter, show her Ironhouse."

Once again, where they thought the well had run dry, they found new strength and tightened their grips. Holding one of Eric's legs, Aaro vowed never again to complain about forge heat, and Fen looked forward to working the bellows. Bor let out a battlefield whistle, seeking to bolster his brother's efforts. In unison, the brothers yelled out, "IRONHOUSE!" It was a call known to scare opponents for miles around.

The water torture continued, and each time Eric began a sentence with _Lauren_ , she responded with, "YOU WILL CALL ME EARTH DAUGHTER." As the strange battle waged on, it looked like Eric's struggles might win his freedom.

"Ironhouse, your father looks on."

When the battle whistle sounded, they answered, _IRONHOUSE_! The dwarves had long ago become upset with the whole situation, longing for an opponent to kill, and with holds so tight, they were causing Eric physical pain, cutting off his circulation.

Again, Lauren slapped him. "He will die. You will die. Is this what you want?"

Slowly the anger left Eric – or whoever sat in the chair. Calming down, he relaxed, which changed the mood in the room. "Earth Daughter."

"Eric," she said softly.

Focusing his gaze on Lauren, he stood, stumbling forward into the cold water.

She looked at the elves, "Quick, get him into a warm bath. Get hot soup into him."

Grabbing Eric, they took him into a dry room, doing as instructed.

Both cold and tired, Gor pushed himself up from the wet floor, heading to the kitchen, **as** the Earth Daughter wanted hot soup. Exhausted, sitting in the cold water, the remaining dwarves shivered, and some even looked like they were crying.

Bor was the first to speak, "Earth Daughter, failed we have?"

Walking over, she sat down on the frigid stone floor, her eyes once again large dark orbs. "You have not, **as** dwarf would have held on until the last sun burnt out, and of such, I know. I cannot tell all, but today, your ancestors look upon you and smile. Generations unborn shall be proud of the Ironhouse name. Poets and minstrels shall struggle harder than you did this day, to ensure you receive just fame." With her eyes back to normal, she continued, "Now go jump into a hot bath and get warmed up."

Going down the stairs, she entered the room where everything started the night before. Following her, the Earth Mother watched through a crack in the open doorway. Picking up Tranquil Fury, Lauren's eyes were once again large black orbs. Sliding the sword partially into the sheath, she addressed it, "Should you ever attempt such again, I shall take you to the forge. After I melt you down, into the endless ocean depths I shall drop you. Is such understood? Good." Sliding the rest into the scabbard, she put it back on the mantle, and the Earth Mother scurried off. Sitting down, her eyes were once again normal, and finding a goblet of stale wine, she wolfed it back. _What the hell's happening?_

With several dry towels, Gingaar was waiting outside. "To your room, you shall go and remove all that is wet. I shall prepare a hot bath, and with Gor's hot soup, we shall warm your insides.

"I'll be fine. I only need some sleep."

Gingaar stopped and turned to face her, "My instructions are simple: room, change, soup, bath, then bed, and such you shall follow."

### Chapter 12

As the rest were attempting to mop up the water, Aaro followed the Earth Mother out onto the terrace. After questioning him about the sword for over three hours, she called Alron to sit with her.

"Old I am, too old for such a new mystery. The dwarf sword, such is not a gift from Mother. I suspect one but shall not speak that name. Earth Daughter, her words you heard and followed. Of such, speak your thoughts."

"My task is simple: protect and serve. With the command spoken, **as** you proclaimed her Earth Daughter, the service bond cannot discriminate."

"The commands followed were not mine, and to myself, you are honor bound. Earth Daughter, her commands were power, and such words you could not ignore. This I understand, **as** Mother has touched Earth Daughter. Her eyes, did you see them?"

"No, I was behind her."

"On this day, I saw the eyes of Mother."

"Such I do not understand."

"At the sword ceremony, she spoke two Earth Bonds and a prophecy. This day, when Eric woke not, Earth Daughter spoke another prophecy. The voice was that of Earth Daughter, but not the words. Earth Daughter and Mother both gazed upon Eric. Of the sword, Mother wants control, and Earth Daughter accomplished such." The Earth Mother was rambling, trying to unravel the riddle, but the puzzled expression on Alron's face suggested there was more unraveling than resolution. "Lauren is special. Never before have I seen Mother take such a keen interest in one of her daughters. You realize my time is short, so when I return to Mother, you shall be the guardian of Earth Daughter. Her gift burns bright, but she lacks knowledge. Gift bright and knowledge dark; shadows shall surround Earth Daughter, so mysteries and questions more are Mother's gifts." Pausing, she looked at Alron, "Your question, the meaning of this? Challenges many you shall face, **as** Mother and Earth Daughter both shall test you, but I have no words of guidance. Mayhap Mother shall reveal her knowledge and illuminate the answers sought, thus dispatching the darkness that spawns so many questions. Go now, I need to think, and Mother I shall seek."

Walking away, he remembered the distress on the Earth Mother's face. In the past, Mother had always provided guidance; whether detailed or vague, it varied but was always present. Now the silence and mysteries were taking a toll on her. For ten generations, her family was the most favored by Mother, but now she seemed to have adopted and favored the one named Lauren. Alron walked back into the mine. _Mother-touched, prophecies, Earth Bonds, sword control; what happens?_

*******

Mirtza, John, Logan, and Ryan, who had all dried off, were sitting on the terrace outside their meeting room in the guest quarters. Surrounded on three sides by the gigantic snow-covered mountains, the air was alive with fresh fragrances from the recently passed storm. All around they saw strange creatures: birds in the air, animals perched on the mountains, and more in the valley below.

Zack walked out carrying mugs and two pitchers of beer. "That was interesting today."

"What do you mean?" asked Ryan.

"First time I have ever water tortured a bully. It felt, well, refreshing. John, you must have enjoyed it?"

"No, I didn't!"

"Okay," started Zack, "then why did you join in?"

"I don't know. I was still trying to figure out what happened the night before. To be honest, when Lauren woke this morning, I was hoping she would tell us what was going on."

"Last night was freaky," began Ryan, "but this morning was way beyond weird. What do we do now?"

"I don't think there's anything we can do. With that said," began John, "I'm getting a bad feeling about it. First, they proclaim Lauren an Earth Daughter, and then she proclaims Eric a champion. I don't like where this trend is heading."

Zack set down his mug, "Mirtza, I was wondering about the way the elves and dwarves talk. I understand most, but it's not like listening to you, especially the dwarves."

"Yeah," replied Logan, "they sound like that puppet from Star Wars."

"Actually, they don't," John advised. "We speak using a subject-verb-object pattern, like _John threw the ball_. They are using a verb-object-subject pattern, suggesting the action part of the sentence is more important than the subject. The puppet used an object-verb-subject pattern, so the only reason they sound similar, is both patterns are different from what you are accustomed to hearing."

Mirtza added, "That is the translation ointment. As I understand, the dwarves speak with thick, twisted words that seem to come out backwards with odd sounds, and it makes them seem unintelligent. To learn that speech takes a significant amount of time. On the other hand, the elves have soft, lyrical sweet sounding words. The ointment attempts to translate and re-organize those sounds into words you know."

John shook his head, "Okay, but all the words don't sound the same, but the ones that threw me off were the two variants of what."

"What?" asked Logan.

"Exactly," replied John. "They seem to have two words or phrases for the same thing, like yes and affirmative, but the sentence length determines the choice."

"I'm simple," began Logan, "so explain it."

"In a short sentence, they would say; _what do you want to know?_ However, in longer sentences, it sounds like this; _that which you want to comprehend is beyond your understanding_."

"I get it... I think," replied Logan. He reached for his drink, "What I don't understand is why we aren't all freaking out about it more. Back in that weird forest, I thought I would see a nuclear explosion the way Eric and Lauren were going at it. I haven't seen her that mad since..." Then Logan saw Ryan's lowered head, "Sorry, you know what I mean. Over the last two weeks, we've all been remembering our families, and yeah, weird crap is happening, but still, shouldn't somebody be jumping up and down, screaming something? Shouldn't we at least be crying ourselves to sleep? Why isn't somebody angry?"

"Maybe it's Mother? Perhaps she's somehow calming us down?" suggested John. "When Mirtza left us alone in the forest, it was the first time we were by ourselves. With the shock wearing off, Lauren and Eric vented their frustrations, but that's where she found that strange staff. Is someone looking after us? In a world where nothing makes sense, that would be logical. So, even though we miss our families and think about them, somebody... something is stopping us from freaking out over them, and all the other strange stuff that has been happening."

"Not all feel that way," replied Zack. "I'm sure my uncle has already started legal actions to get his hands on my money. By the time I get back, I'll be broke and living on the streets."

"Ryan, do you agree? Is John right?" asked Logan.

"I don't know. I think about my family all the time. Every night in my dreams, I visit them and hope my thoughts will somehow find them. Well, you know, let them know I'm still alive and tell them not to worry. That, and lately, the beer has been helping."

"Beer, it does a body good," replied Zack refilling a mug.

"I don't understand how you guys can drink so much of that stuff," replied John, "Do you know what it does to you?"

Zack smiled, "The golden nectar. It celebrates victories, drowns the sorrows, kills the pain, and exposes the dark truths. Plain liquid? No, a gift from the gods. It can make a shy man brave, or turn a brave man into a fool. Each vessel consumed alters the destined course and tests the fates. Only in alcohol can one both find and hide from themselves at the same time." All four looked at Zack. "You guys really question everything too much. We're here, so embrace it, because life goes on until it stops. Parents give you up for adoption; life goes on. Get new parents after years in foster homes, and life goes on. New parents get divorced – guess what, life still goes on. Then divorced parents die, and wait for it... effing life still goes on. Then, out of the blue, the school bus is in an accident, and what's this – a new effing life. Accept what you have no control over, **because** it makes it easier." Zack reached over to the pitcher to refill his mug, "The path to victory is best achieved through acceptance."

"That doesn't make sense," replied Ryan.

"And life makes more?" Taking the full mug, Zack headed back to his room.

The remaining three looked at each other in wonder, **as** that was the most any had ever heard from Zack. Ryan started to empty the last of the pitcher, but as John's mug was half-full, he covered the top, declining any more.

Ryan raised his glass, "To Zack. May one day he defeat the blackness that both consumes his soul and fills his closet." On that note, they all headed inside hoping their dreams would somehow find family and friends, letting them know they were safe.

*******

That night, Gor took a meal up to Lauren, but when done, she was still hungry, but not for food. Walking down the hall, carrying the tri-wood staff, she saw Alron standing in front of the door. "May I please see her?" After checking, he stepped aside.

"We need to talk."

Sitting beside the window, she was watching the sun sets. "Troubled is Earth Daughter?"

"I don't have any ideas on where to start, so I'm going to blurt it out. Three weeks ago, I went to school one morning, but a few hours later, I woke up in your world. Four days later, I'm in a strange forest where I find this." She was holding up the staff. "Until that point, everything was... abnormally normal. A few days later, I'm healing my sick friends, and then I kill somebody. A lot of it's still a blur, but then I arrive here. At that point, I felt like Snow White, but... whatever. I don't feel like myself, and long story short, I want to understand what's going on."

"A year ago, Mother sent myself here—"

"Who's this Mother?"

"She is the ground you walk on and tends to the animals and children alike."

"You brought more of us here?"

"No. Mother considers elf and midlander to be her children. She guides and helps us. She sent myself here and said wait, but not why."

"So, what am I supposed to do?"

"Simple questions you ask, or simple they appear. Of that which now happens, none are sure. In the shadows, answers hide, but no light can we cast on them. Then a new mystery arrives when I meet six unknown. Mother says wait, welcome, but not why. Answers we need, and we thought those waited for, they would bring such, not questions more. Earth Daughter, why Mother sought you and your friends, I know not. Her need must be great, **as** you must be, but why this happens, many wish to know. In your hands, your staff, more power and knowledge than all other Earth Mothers before. You may be great, but I fear not great enough. Why else would Mother grant your staff, your power?"

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Questions more, but not any answers do I have. Mayhap Mother shall provide answers yet."

"What does that mean?"

"Mother says to wait."

"So, Earth Mother, in your world something is wrong. For reasons unknown, Mother brought my friends and me here to help, but nobody knows what's wrong or how to fix it? Is that correct?"

The Earth Mother nodded, wishing to answer one question, at least, for a change.

Without saying another word, Lauren left. _Seriously? This is as if somebody made a prank call to a pizzeria._

*******

Waking early the next day, Lauren was worried about Eric. _This will sound strange, but_ ... _Mother, please make sure Eric is okay. If you are up there, you know, and listening._ After having a long bath, she headed down to the kitchen. Normally, Gor prepared whatever he wanted, knowing if one was hungry, they would eat what he made.

This morning was different. Gor's thick voice sounded quiet in the early morning, "Earth Daughter, what would please you?"

"What would please me? Have everybody call me Lauren again."

"Earth Daughter is sacred. Disrespectful is any other name."

"Please, between you and me, when nobody's around, call me Lauren. This Earth Daughter stuff is a little strange, but right now, I only want to be Lauren."

Looking deep into her eyes, he saw the anguish. "Lauren, what would please you?"

She smiled, "Gor, the first meal you prepared was pancakes with fresh fruit. I really enjoyed that and a cup of bean juice, brewed strong."

"Lauren, bring me great pleasure it will, to serve you."

Much later, Bor walked in and was surprised to see her. Unsure of what to say, he ran his hand along his beard rope, which was still wet from the day before. He looked at her, Iron _and Ore, so much cold water that dwarf seeks a hot bath_ , "Earth Daughter, I..."

"You have questions, and I understand. When the others come down, I'll try to provide answers. Can you please check on Eric? I don't imagine he wants to see me right now."

"Earth Daughter, a pleasure it would be." Then, grabbing the ladle and pan, he went to wake the rest of the guests.

Chewing on the last bite of pancakes, she gently tapped the fork on the plate.

"More, Lauren? Make a dwarf of you we soon will."

*******

Babartin and Careel Dawnfalcon were sitting with Eric, who continued to sleep, **as** the others headed down for breakfast.

The Earth Mother wandered in, "Of Eric?"

"His temperature warms, his heart beats strong, and not any damage to his limbs is present. Perchance his size protected him, but lesser elf, dwarf, or midlander would never have endured such yesterday." Babartin continued, "Earth Mother, please, can you explain that which now happens?"

Looking first at Eric, she turned to the two elves, "Mother has not told myself of such. For now, we shall hold our course. Stay vigilant my sons." With that, she left the room for breakfast.

Everybody else was in the morning mess, eating and staring at Lauren, who was sitting by the big fireplace sipping a large mug of bean juice. While still having a few chills from the day before, she was unsure of what the dwarves or Eric must have been feeling.

The Master Weapon Smith spoke first, "Earth Daughter, heavy is my heart, sleepless my night. Done, what have I?"

Pulling the chair to the middle of the room, she thought for a few moments, "Master Weapon Smith, even before John was born, something sought you out when you found that sky rock. You had no choice in what you did, **as** it was both destined and necessary. When I picked up Tranquil Fury, its magnificent and perfect beauty mesmerized me. I know nothing about swords, let alone naming them. My original plan was to examine the craftsmanship," and then looking at the Earth Mother, she lied, "telling you I could not name something so great. I would then advise you to seek others who were better suited to this task. However, holding the sword, I sensed something. There was a dimension beyond its length and thickness, where a battle was and was not taking place. There was disruption and serenity, struggle and peace. A presence wants to rebuild, but first, it needs to destroy. It wants to see children run in dewy fields, but first, those fields must bleed red. It longs for cool nights, where owls and wolves are heard, but first, those nights have to be filled with the screams of death, from those who have no such desire. It's a perfect harmony of life and death, joy and grief, pain and delight, **as** one cannot exist without the other. This presence of disruption and serenity made it extremely hard to understand what I was feeling. This perfect balance makes it special: He will serve Eric, and She will protect him."

"He, she, what is it?" asked the perplexed Master Weapon Smith.

"It's both, as the images of tranquility and ferocity formed the name. She wanted one, but He wanted something else, so they decided on Tranquil Fury, to ensure no one side won."

"Spoken last, your angered words; understand them, I did not."

"It's complicated, but I was not angry at you. I was trying to make sense of it all, and it was sort of... overwhelming?"

The Earth Mother stood, "He who shall make rivers of blood flow, he who fills the night with screams of terror, he who no army can destroy, he who has a blood lust that cannot be filled. Who is he?"

While still unsure about the Earth Mother, Lauren had held the sword, fighting it back into the metal prison. She wanted to scold the elderly elf for not listening, and jump up and down – screaming I told you so. Looking at the ground, her eyes were large black orbs. Her words were slow and precise. "Mayhap He is somebody you do not wish to meet."

Hearing the subtle Mother-touched words, rather than pressing more questions, she sat back down.

"What about Eric?" asked John.

Lauren turned to the fireplace, "Eric is fine and may smolder longer than the sword, but he shall survive. Eric does not seek such things, but He does."

John stood, "Stop, you are confusing me."

Logan nodded. _I thought it was just me_.

Facing the fireplace, Lauren's eyes were still large dark orbs. "Within the sword, a duality and design are both present, however, a shift in the power balance manifested. Hence, such needed to be restored, and only measures extreme would counter such, else birthed would his destiny be. Eric may not enjoy that which shall happen, but such is necessary. Long ago, plans began, unfathomable plans, but such must continue to happen."

Even though everybody heard the elfin words spoken by Lauren, only Alron and the Earth Mother understood the knowledge belonged to Mother.

John was staring at her, "Still not clear."

"Told us," began Aaro, "stand he does not."

Lauren sighed, "Let's try it this way. There are three parts to this story: Eric, who we will call Eric, He, who we will call X, and She, who we will call Y. Does that help? Aaro, not once did I tell you to stop Eric from standing. My words were; X does not rise. Yes, I realize He and Eric sounded the same, but they were different... just different, okay. Tranquil Fury are X and Y, two separate elements, and X had possessed Eric. X had different plans because X wanted out. X tried to cloud my mind and make me forget. I didn't realize X was so close and didn't recognize him for the threat it was. Does that make sense now?"

Taking his seat, John was still shaking his head. _That's one hell of an algebra equation._

Lauren sighed, "That's as clear as I can make it. If you want, I can call them Bert and Ernie, but they called themselves He and She, or as I translated X and Y."

"You said there was a balance," began a frustrated John. "What happened?"

"I said there was struggle and peace, but X tried to break the peace with a struggle. Seeing an opportunity, X seized it because that's what warriors do. So, Aaro, in a sense, we had to quench the sword one more time. In essence, X had to submit to the Earth Daughter, and I think, to Mother. X had to accept his place, and when X did that, X quit struggling. By that time, you six were suffering greatly, and you used the opportunity to relax your grips, or possibly Y caused all grips to loosen. X knew the battle was lost, but he also knows more wait. Perhaps it was Mother... I don't know. I called to Eric, and hearing his name, he... I mean, Eric stood and took control." Lauren called to Gor for a refill of bean juice. _Mother... I mean damn... I mean this stuff grows on you!_

"Caused great pain to Eric, we did," acknowledged Bor. "Punishment so great, a body will fail. If continued, would Eric have died?"

"You're correct. Eric was close to death, and X knew it."

"If submit not, would Eric then die?" continued Bor.

"Yes, both would have."

The Master Weapon Smith looked up, "If withheld was the champion's name, what would have happened?"

"We wouldn't be having this conversation, Walward. Now, I feel the need for another hot bath," and then she exited the room.

Going to the kitchen, Gor returned with a tray of glasses and a jug from his personal stash, and he poured each a drink. Nobody asked about the contents, and accepting it, they drank it, wondering both about what had happened and would happen next.

### Chapter 13

Later that same day, when Lauren saw John in the hall, she called to him.

"Is something up?"

"Ever get a test back where you studied exceptionally hard and knew all the material, but still failed?"

"No."

Rolling her eyes, Lauren looked for a new reference. "Let's try this one. Have you ever walked into a room where everybody is staring at you? After checking the room number, you realize you're supposed to be there, but you still feel out of place?"

"I can relate to that. What's going on?"

"Everything, nothing, I don't know. Did you know they were waiting for us—"

"Can you supply a reference point?"

"I talked with the Earth Mother last night. They were waiting for us, but they don't understand why or what we're supposed to do. They thought we would bring answers. The best part, the Earth Mother said Mother has chosen me. Why did they bring us here?"

"Calm down. I get it; you're frustrated. After what happened this morning, it makes perfect sense. Back home, I may have had all the answers, but here... no idea of what is happening or why. I believe the sword made it clear they have... interesting challenges ahead. The first thing they need to do is to pull back the veil of mystery from around those suspected issues, to expose them for whatever they are. Information is knowledge; knowledge is power, so without sufficient information, they're powerless. You should explain they need to collect evidence to determine exactly what's happening."

"So I tell them that, and we don't have answers?"

"There isn't much else we can do. Now, why Lauren? Well, she has always been a driven and strong-willed person, been active in social and environmental causes, speaks her mind and has a genuine interest in others. Why not Lauren? Now, if instead of waiting for you, if they were waiting for Logan or Zack, then I would certainly wonder about this world. Stop and think about it, because it makes perfect sense... well, under these circumstances. Just calm down and believe in yourself, as somebody here apparently does."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"That isn't important, because you need to concentrate on what, who, where and when. You've been involved in similar issues back home, so repeat what you did there. Now, are you feeling better?"

"No. How could I sit down there this morning and talk so calmly about what happened to Eric? If that... thing hadn't come out of him, I may have actually killed him. This morning, I felt like I was watching an interview on a television show. That was not me, so who the hell's inside my head!"

"I've seen what you've done and heard what you said. There's something bigger happening here, but I don't understand what it is. Consider this though; every night we sit down to a meal hosted by dwarves and surrounded by elves. If back home, I would be the first one to sign the papers to have you committed."

"I don't belong here, and I'm not part of this world."

"You are here and a part of this world, like the rest of us. If they were waiting for us, then perhaps we're supposed to be here."

"This isn't the Wizard of Oz!"

"Logically speaking, and this is going out on thin ice, whatever accident we were involved in was anything but normal. My only reference is from the oldest book on Earth, and it recounts frequent divine interventions. By extension, for us to be involved in whatever it was, ending up here, I have to wonder. Let's face it; four-foot tall dwarves making a six-foot-long sword... well, that's odd. In addition, Eric, the biggest kid in our school, is also on the bus. I'll make this short; I believe there's divine intervention happening here, and as science can't explain it, I'm out of my league."

"I find all of that hard to believe!"

"How did Mirtza find us the same day we arrived?"

The expression on Lauren's face changed from irritation to puzzlement. "I need time to think. Thank you."

*******

The next day, heading down to the kitchen, Lauren was worried about Eric. As it had been two days since the possession, she was unsure of what mood he would be in, but to her knowledge, nobody had told him what had happened. Over the last two days, whenever somebody saw her, they immediately found a hall or room to turn into.

Everybody was treating her different, except for Gor. "Lauren, what would please you?"

After the meal, she summoned the courage to enter Eric's room. "We need to talk." Having taken a bath, he only wore a towel, and in the cold room, steam was rising from his body, which she thought fitting. Taking clothes into the washroom, he changed, and after returning, Lauren was sitting on the bed.

"Has anybody said anything to you?"

Eric shook his head, "I have heard a little bit."

"I'll tell you the short version, so you have time to consider everything, and later I'll try to answer any questions – if I can. Parts of this will not make any sense, but I can only tell you what I know."

He pulled up a chair.

Unable to look him in the eyes, she started. "Parts of this will sound strange, like I'm repeating information I learned in a previous life. I know what I'm talking about, but I don't. Years before you or I were born, something here sensed something was about to happen. Sounds corny, I know, but whatever it was, it started making plans, small changes to go unnoticed. Over time, they brought those little pieces together, and it would not surprise me if there's more we haven't found. One of the larger pieces is that sword. You have to ask yourself; why did a dwarf, a little more than four-feet tall, make a weapon six-feet long? Beyond that, somebody provided something strange to put in it, and while I don't exactly understand what it is, it has an intelligent presence. When the ceremony started, I never wanted to name the sword, and I imagine it sensed that. I think it was worried; if unnamed, it would remain locked in that room for years, but it wanted out. To accomplish that, it tried to seize any mind, but I never realized the Master Weapon Smith would name you. As I... I guess it was me, as I was trying to fight off Tranquil Fury, all I was looking for was that name, and I thought it would be Bor. Then either the sword or Bor, maybe both, would transform, but once he said your name, there was nothing I could do."

Stopping, she waited to see if Eric would say anything, but he remained silent. "The morning after, when you didn't wake, I sensed Tranquil Fury – let's call it TF for short, otherwise this discussion will never end. I sensed TF was trying to possess you. I needed a way to make TF say uncle, but since you're a big boy, there was no way to beat TF out of you. I had to make it submit, to the Earth Daughter. I still don't understand why, but it seemed to be the key to what was happening." Eric still sat in silence. "I don't have any knowledge of what lies ahead for either of us, nor do I understand why they selected us. I know things I shouldn't, can do things I never thought possible, and sense things beyond normal. This world has adopted us, and you realize in your heart and head, what I did was not to hurt you, it was to save you."

She waited, "Damn it, Eric, I killed a man without even blinking an eye. I had this Earth Daughter role shoved right up my.... I don't like what happened to you, and I'm not enjoying any of this, but suck it up and get over it. You don't quit playing the game because of one bad day." With that, she headed for the door.

There was a smoldering anger in Eric's voice, "If this TF, like you call it, if it never submitted to the great Earth Daughter, what would have happened?"

"I knew TF had to submit, as they need more than you to succeed."

"But, if TF was more stubborn than you, what would have happened?"

Even though Lauren heard the question, she had already left the room, as that answer brought tears to her eyes, an image she had no desire to consider.

*******

The next morning, Aaro opened up a massive meeting room, capable of holding over one-hundred dwarves, looking empty with only the twenty-three. A long narrow, low table, carved from a single tree sat in the middle, and chiseled into the walls, uncountable scenes of dwarves in battle. Light, reflected in from unseen passages, illuminated the large room. Sitting at the front, Alron and Gingaar bracketed the Earth Mother, and with the dwarves sitting on one side, the bus mates and Mirtza were opposite. As customary, in the middle of the table, pitchers of beer sat.

The Earth Mother stood, "Days past, at the naming ceremony... strange, Earth Daughter spoke words that shocked myself. I did guidance seek with Mother, but no reply was spoken. Hence, to my shoulders, such falls to solve this mystery. Would any have suggestions?"

Zack raised his hand. "Dudette, I was—"

"Explain that which you said!"

John kicked Zack under the table.

"Earth Mother, Dudette, I was thinking we should leave. I'm not really into rivers of blood."

She slammed her hand down, "Such is not a choice!" Then she turned to Lauren, "Earth Daughter, speak your thoughts."

"What... oh, where I come from, it's customary to seek out the smartest. John, what do you think?"

Reaching for a mug of beer, he took a large gulp but then started to gag.

Eric stood, "Look, we just arrived here. How long have you been having problems?"

"Such depends," began Alron, "on how you define problem."

"What was the first...," began Eric, "I want to say abnormal, but after the last few weeks, I'm wondering if that's the right word. What's the first significant event you can remember? That should be safe."

Inhaling so loud, all heard Bor's chest expand, and his voice filled the room, "Fought the darkness, three suns did—"

Alron spoke up, "Friend Bor, I believe Eric asked of events recent."

"But—"

"Of the longest dwarf story ever told, not any time for such do we have."

"Start, where should I?"

"The Eastern Clans, as I imagine that point is most insightful."

"A story that is not, and suckle on the bosom of history it still does. Too young it is, and a request for significant was asked."

Zack leaned over to Lauren, "What does suckle mean?"

She smacked him.

"Like it, I do not, but tell it I will. Back years of twenty—"

Eric expelled his exaggerated outburst, "WHAT?"

"Louder should I speak?"

Eric was pushing his temples together, "Did you just say twenty years?"

Bor scanned his brothers, who were all nodding.

"Please continue," insisted Alron.

Everybody reached for a mug of beer, except for Bor. "Back years of twenty, marching dwarves were reported by elves. Traveling this way, clans of the eastern range, and opening our doors, Ironhouse welcomed all. Embraced were long lost clans, and born were great stories; drink flowed, blood spilled, and laughter-filled were the halls."

"Mayhap you can stay on track," Alron sighed.

Displeased, Bor continued, "Here, start the story, it did not, but years of thirty past."

When Eric tried to stand, Lauren smacked him.

Bor began again, "Thirty years past, in the great north, search for precious metals and gems, the eastern clans did." He then explained how dwarves explored for new mines in the extreme north, and on that excursion, they found a large coastal settlement. Living so far north, they knew the hardships; the ground so thin, trees could not grow; vegetation so sparse, animals were hard to find, and with winters so cold, life was impossible. Then, ten years later, they headed back, but not looking for gems, instead, looking for lumber for their mines, determining all dead by then. To their surprise, expecting an abandoned town, they looked at a great mass of buildings that had grown by ten-fold. In addition, dozens of long docks stretched out into the ocean, which had a vast number of ships moored. Since the settlement was on the coast and not in the mountains, the dwarves headed back to their mine.

Alron interrupted, "I would also add, at this time, elf life changed." Then, looking at Mirtza, they all saw his scowl. "Midlanders moved into the forests, and few we were, but many were the trees. We did not mind sharing, I should say, not mind at first, but each year more and more arrived. Each year we moved our villages back west or north. When we traveled to hunt, we found the forests cut, the trees no more. Midlanders replaced the great forests with fields where they raised beast or plant, and such was a sad time in elf history."

Zack raised his hand, "What's a midlander?"

"While dwarf claims mountain high, elf hunts in forest low, so midlander lives in between, but that was when forests numbered many."

Bor continued, explaining how all the eastern clans knew of the growing settlement, and fearing encroachment into the mountains, they sent scouting parties to keep watch. Each year the settlement grew, as they erected more building and docks, but no clan understood where they found so much wood. After ten years, the dwarves found an intolerable offense. "Told by the winds, a different story; mining and smelting ore, midlanders were. Do as you wish above the ground, but below belongs to dwarf. Permission was neither asked nor granted, so end this practice, dwarf would, because declared war they did." He then explained the dwarven preparations. "Fueled by honor and ore, they marched north, but followed by victory, they were not. Return home, only one-hundred did, and whispering on the wind, nine-hundred stories unheard." Explaining further, he talked about how arguments broke out amongst the clans, but they continued to watch the northern town grow. Ultimately, having reached a boiling point, they sent an army of three-thousand north, but only one dwarf returned, telling all who listened of the attacks by trolls.

"Tell them of such," suggested Alron.

"Trolls, the beast forgotten," and he spit on the floor. "Purpose and origin, both are unknown, and dwell in many places they do: cave deep and forest secluded. Bear-sized and stupid, but foul is their temper and smell. Teeth and claws, different is that story. Vicious beasts walking upright that are both brutal and unkempt. Standing downwind, easy to find they are, but two battles you fight; the smell is the first, the beast is the second. Called sport by dwarf; they slayed three-thousand. To tell the story, only one dwarf returned, and mad all thought him, but believe him, none did – until too late. Witnessed a nightmare, one dwarf did, and to the mine depths he went, hoping the blackness blocked his visions. Sent out were troll hunting parties, but return, none did, and when more went forth, absent they remained." Bor then became sullen, focusing his gaze on the table.

Aaro then explained how the eastern clans had created elite squads to hunt down this new enemy, providing them with specialized training. The initial group numbered one-hundred, and searching prospective dens in the area of the first attack, they found no signs. Since the beasts had poor sight and an even worse smell, which preceded them, they failed to place a full complement of guards one night; a mistake realized too late when attacked, but not by one, by a pack. Even though it was a behavior never seen before, these creatures were different. Not only was the smell absent, but they also were both stronger and smarter. While thirty survived the first attack, only ten returned to the mine, as the beasts had not only stalked them but also set traps. Unable to accept the defeat, the dwarves sent out larger hunting parties, but the few who returned only carried wounded dwarves and similar stories. "Change, adapt; words forged by dwarf, not by troll. To their forges, the Master Weapon Smiths of the eastern clans went. From them, they brought forth three special weapons: ax, hammer, and spear; named and great were all – ox wood handles, the finest metals, dwarf forged. Restored were both victory and honor."

Lauren looked over at Aaro, who nodded.

The first victory arrived faster than expected. In the past, they had to travel for months to get to the strange northern town, but over the years, the attacks had been happening closer. When they sent out a new team of Troll Slayers, including the champions of the named weapons, they only had to travel north for a few weeks to the first encounter. With fewer beasts, they defeated most, but the cost to the dwarves was great. This news shattered the spirits of the clan leaders, and on that day, they spoke the word Trollmare, as it was the first opponent the dwarves had ever feared. While there was a point where dwarves hunted trolls for sport, when trollmares began killing dwarves, they only had one option. Having been mining the eastern spine for thousands of years, they determined it best to go looking for mountains more fertile. They sent out groups to create a road to the middle spine, and that was when the elves spotted dwarves on foot.

Alron added, "Seeing such, elf investigated, assisted, and listened. The words spoken seemed—"

"Exaggerated?" asked Lauren, as she stared at the Earth Mother.

"Such could be said. Much respect elf has for dwarf, but that which they spoke of was beyond outrageous, else a dire warning. In search of truths, elf traveled east and north. Mountains, such may welcome dwarf, but for elf, countless challenges created much distress. Many times, elf saw the beast named Trollmare, and that which they described was even more horrific when seen. As for the northern town, eventually they found that, and to exaggerate of this, such was not possible. Without forests to shroud elf, none could get close, and two years past, they reported the town absent of residents."

Alron continued, saying after that, they saw midlanders on the same road all heading west. When approached, they refused to get close and threatened the elves with violence. With persistence, they identified the reason for the flight: plague. Then, in a short time, the dwarf road received heavy trafic from the Newland farmers who Mother had told to flee, including the elves.

"I have spent the last three months traveling from the south," Mirtza said. Explaining the trip, he provided elaborate details on everything, and from a pocket, he withdrew a plague poster, passing it to the closest. "At first, the warnings worried me, and although I never found a person to talk to, there was much I never found. No fresh graves to suggest a deadly epidemic unleashed; no burnt out pyres of slaughtered livestock to stop a spreading infection, and no wandering person or animal mad with disease, yet both crops and people were missing."

With the beer pitchers empty at this point, all eyes turned back to Eric. "I suggest we use Lauren's custom. John, what do you think?"

### Chapter 14

John scanned the room, "Let's see if I can summarize. The dwarves discovered a town on the northern Bright Coast, but it now appears empty, but that's too far away to check. When they go to reinforce self-imposed mineral rights, they meet resistance that grows over the years. Eventually, they're chased from—"

Slamming his hand down, Bor's angered eyes pierced John's summary, "Chased off they were not! Barren were their mines, so searching for new, they headed west."

"Okay, let's say the dwarves headed west, initially taking shelter here." John stopped for a second, "Why did they leave?"

Bor inhaled, "Ironhouse—"

"Told that story to Earth Daughter, I have," advised Aaro.

"Well, okay," continued John. "Over time, that settlement grows, but then you find it empty. Then Midlanders fled the lands, claiming to be running from a plague; evidence supported by Mirtza and those posters. Finally, the remaining midlanders and all the elves fled. From the sounds of it, you fifteen are the only ones left in this area. It's possible a plague started in the northern town, and survivors carried it south to infect more, resulting in the mass exodus. To be honest, that poster is the only evidence we have, because everything else is hearsay." While John thought about expanding on the dwarven events, he saw Bor's irritated looks. "The main oddities are these. First, there is the covered forest, as a tarp that large seems unnatural. Second, somebody chased us away from it, and as well, the two men who attacked Lauren in that forest. Oh and let's not forget the sword. Aaro, are there any midlander villages nearby somebody can visit to investigate? So they can look for clues to see what might have happened?"

"Travel within seven days, one large and three small you will find."

"That is my first suggestion. Send somebody to see if you can find any evidence of this plague, remaining inhabitants, or people who look out of place."

"Would such not be dangerous?" asked the Earth Mother.

"If it truly is a plague, it requires a living host to survive," advised John. "If the stories are true and everybody's gone, then the plague should be dead."

The Earth Mother sighed, "We shall consider such. Are there any other thoughts?"

Zack held back his, leave.

"Until you understand what you're up against," Eric began, "you don't know what plays to run."

Alron looked at the Earth Mother, then back to Eric, "Why would you suggest play and run?"

"Where I come from, we have lots of sanctioned battles... Does that sound right, John?"

"What Eric's trying to say is simple. Before you can take any actions, you need to find out what you're up against."

"Not any other measures can we consider?" asked Alron.

"Depends," began Lauren, "The sword showed an image of war, but today we're talking about a plague."

The Earth Mother stood, "We shall consider such advice. You may all leave, as elf and dwarf shall now take counsel."

While Bor and Aaro remained sitting, the other four dwarves headed to the door with Gingaar. As well, Mirtza and the bus mates did the same.

With one thought bothering Lauren, she stopped, which also blocked John and Eric's exit. "When I held that sword, I saw disturbing images: armies, war, and more. I don't know what it knows that you don't, but it wants peace, and its path to peace is through hell. If there is a war coming, and Eric is the champion, won't he need training? Perhaps armor? Yes, it's an impressive sword, but I don't imagine approaching an army with it will scare them away."

Aaro then looked at Bor, "Remember the Silvervein clan?"

"Strange they were, and forgotten them I have."

"What are you two talking about?" asked Lauren.

"March of the eastern clans," replied Aaro. "One was Silvervein, small northern clan and known of them little was. Quiet, mysterious, odd for dwarf, more like elf. Traveling here, they carried a huge rock and left it. Said they did, understand we would when the time was right."

"Understand what?" asked John.

Aaro replied, "Time?"

"Said more they did," advised Bor. "Speak the words proper? Aaro, the last part, what did they say?"

Remembering suddenly, he smiled, "Lock is none, voice is the key. When proper spoken, set it free."

"What're we talking about?" Lauren's patience was running thin, "I thought we were discussing Eric and his need for armor and training?"

"Earth Daughter, the day is young, and of your concerns, we shall answer such, but this new mystery intrigues myself," replied the Earth Mother. "Silvervein rock, Aaro, please describe such."

"Big."

"Be more specific."

"Eric big."

The answer may have been small, but the image created was the opposite. Lauren was the first to speak, "Aaro, please show us this rock."

Leading the small group down into the mine, he took them to one of the storage rooms. Opening the slightly warped door, its hinges creaked from years of neglect, and inside were several large boxes of ores and coals, including an assortment of unfinished armor and weapons made by junior metal smiths. Wedging his torch into a crate of ores, Aaro pointed to a large plain stone, measuring six-feet tall by three-feet square, against the far wall.

"This?" Lauren was unimpressed, "This is what we're talking about?"

"Yes, Earth Daughter," replied Aaro.

"Okay, it's big like Eric, but what am I missing?"

Going over to the rock, the Earth Mother ran her hands along the rough surfaces, examining all three sides, "Prank?"

Aaro shook his head, "Odd was Silvervein, but know Ironhouse, they did not. Uncalled for would a prank be."

"John, can you please look at this thing?" asked Lauren.

Examining it, he found nothing unique, not even any decorative marks or inscriptions. "If there's something here, I don't understand what it is."

Aaro then announced there was an inscription on the top.

Picking up the torch, Eric approached the stone block and blew off a thick layer of dust, "There's something here, but I don't know what it says."

"Lift me up so I can have a look," suggested John.

Handing him the torch, Eric did as requested, and once back on the ground, John made a recommendation, "Spin the block around, because the inscription is backwards."

Aaro and Bor approached the stone block to help Eric turn it. After John handed the torch back, he began retreating towards the hall.

"Hey, this is English!" exclaimed Eric. "Blood filled rivers, scream filled nights, blood lust driven, aid for the Champions fights." As he spoke the final words, the blood drained from his face.

Something inside the stone block moved, causing him to jump back. With seams forming on the front of the exterior, the magical bonds now broken, the stone block rejected the front face, which now crept forward, fraction by fraction, separating from it. As everybody in the room moved back, John headed to the hall, and when the slab extended about two-inches past the block, a sound exploded from it, like an eruption of thunder. The origin was a huge crack that traversed the center of the slab from top to bottom, including two smaller ones: one being two-feet from the bottom, and the other two-feet from the top. Six large pieces of granite fell forward to the floor, causing a dust cloud to erupt from the base of the stone block, which filled the small room with a choking fog. John was already in the hall when the others fled the room, and as Aaro closed the door, the emergency ventilation system tripped, pulling the potentially harmful dust from the room. When all heard the fans disengage, Aaro carefully reopened the door, unsure of what to expect.

With their vision no longer obscured, all who entered saw the hollowed out section of the strange rock. Inside was a set of plate mail: dwarf forged and black as night, measuring six-feet tall to the base of the collar, and holding a helmet with one arm. Torchlight dancing on the surface gave it the appearance of being alive, and all expected it to step out of its confined space, but thankfully, it remained inside.

Stepping through the small crowd, Lauren approached the magnificent armor. "I don't see anybody in there to train Eric. Aaro, did any other clans leave you any more secrets?"

Both Aaro and Bor shook their heads, still deep in disbelief.

"Well, it looks a little tall. Can you adjust it to fit Eric?"

"Aaro, Bor, tell your brothers to take such to the main level," commanded the Earth Mother. "We shall now sit council and consider all there."

*******

Later that night, the Earth Mother called Lauren and John to the large meeting hall, and she began immediately. "We have taken counsel, and the new events have caused myself great concern. I agree with friend John, so we shall send a group to scout the nearby villages. Alron with Panry shall lead, but Aaro with Bor shall accompany, so you shall be safe."

"Pardon," they asked in unison.

"I am too old and cannot go. Mother has sent us Earth Daughter, and one named John who understands that which we do not." Lauren and John both looked at each other, but before replying, she continued. "The sword and armor presence dictates a new course, and such we considered. Fen and Fodu shall remain here to fit Eric. Elves also shall remain to sword train him."

"Why do I have to go!" demanded Lauren.

"You are Mother sent."

"How can you know?"

"She told me and the staff you hold."

"What am I supposed to do?" asked Lauren.

"Mother shall guide you."

"Lauren, let's go. How bad can it be?" asked John.

*******

After that meeting, the Earth Mother sent Gingaar to fetch Logan, as she was frustrated with Mother's actions and wanted answers. First, with the sword, she knew Mother had prevented her from stopping the ceremony but failed to understand why. However, that mystery failed in contrast to the events that happened afterwards, but seeing the armor, it caused her concerns to grow faster than freshly planted seedlings in the spring. Having asked the elves about the water, they advised the buckets handled, compared to the water walked in, differed greatly in temperature. Since the Impure Trickster answered truthfully, she knew there had to be another source. Somehow, from when the last elf touched the bucket, to when Eric received the contents, the temperature had changed. Only four possible answers existed: John, Logan, Zack, or Ryan. With John being so small, she doubted if he could manifest any power. While still uncertain about Zack and Ryan, Logan piqued her interest, as he had handed the buckets to the new Earth Daughter. During the events of the unusual water ceremony, several times she thought he had spoken to the water, but with all the noise, she was still unsure. While it may have been possible for Lauren to make the water cold, water was not of Mothers domain – it belonged to Sister.

Logan had hesitantly followed the Earth Mother, and once outside the door, Alron opened it to allow both to enter.

"My preference is the forest, not this room. Such cold, even in the summer months, it does not warm enough for my old bones. Look, my fire has gone out again."

Without thinking, Logan spoke, "Do you want me to start it?"

"Please." Sitting down, she saw him add kindling and fresh wood, and when he should have asked where the flint was, the Earth Mother saw smoke. By the time Logan sat down, a large fire was blazing, which astonished her, but she maintained her composure. "You and your friends are having an unusual experience. How are all enjoying such?"

"We're being treated great. The food and drinks, everything's incredible. It's hard to believe, but incredible," but nervous tension filled his reply.

"Of your sister; any thoughts now that she is an Earth Daughter?"

"I believe it's a good thing. A few times before arriving here, I was becoming worried, as she would be quiet for days, which was abnormal." Then he shook his head, "I don't know. There's been too much... strange crap— I mean stuff happening. I didn't think too much about it, but then, with what happened to Eric... I just don't know."

"I also share such frustrations, as much as happened in a short time. Young Logan, a new riddle I now have."

"Okay?"

Pouring a large mug of water, she handed it to him, "Do you remember the sword, Tranquil Fury. To Eric, that which happens?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember that which Lauren said to dwarf: hold him in that chair?"

"Yes."

"Did you fear for Eric?"

He was fidgeting in the chair. "Yes, I was scared for everybody. Nobody knew what was happening."

"Of the words spoken by Earth Daughter, do you recall such?

"Yes, I think... which ones?"

The Earth Mother needed to turn up the heat. "Colder, colder, colder."

"I know."

"The water became colder. Did you know such?"

"No... Yes." He considered reasons to leave – immediately.

"Colder water, I need colder water. Logan, I need to see ice in such. Your sister repeated that over and over."

"I know. I was there." Sweat was dripping down his forehead.

Standing, she walked towards Logan, "Colder water, I need colder water. I need to see ice in the water, and Earth Daughter repeated such over and over."

Not caring anymore, he blurted out his response. "What's going on?"

Grabbing the mug of water, when the Earth Mother attempted to plunge a finger into it, she found the entire contents frozen solid, but with her warm hands touching the cold clay, the temperature shock caused it to break, revealing the solid contents inside. Peeling off the mug, she held up the ice, "How can such be?"

Shocked, Logan looked at the ice in her hands, "I didn't... I don't know... What?"

"When you entered, you started a fire with not any flint. How can such be?"

"I don't know." Feeling caught in an ambush and getting upset, Logan sensed his forearms tingle.

"Friend Logan, think. How do you make fire? How do you make ice?"

"I don't know. Until now, I didn't realize I could. Lauren and I are twins. If she's an Earth Daughter, maybe I'm something... I don't know – similar?"

"There has never been such. Mother to her daughters, only shall she speak. Ten generations past, not any have seen that which you have done."

Losing his composure, Logan felt trapped and wanted out. Bringing up his hands to wipe away the forming tears of confusion, his shirtsleeves fell down, exposing the feather tattoos.

The Earth Mother grabbed his right arm, "Where did you get such? These are the marks of Sister. Where? How?"

No longer scared, Logan stood, and his eyes were two large dark orbs. "Of this, such is not any concern to you. As for my sister, I shall protect her." Extending his left hand to the fireplace, he signaled with his index finger, causing it to leap into his hand, burning in its full intensity, and wrapping his fingers into a fist, it extinguished. Speechless, the Earth Mother let go of Logan's arm.

After leaving the room, the Earth Mother looked up, Mother, of these events, explain that which your Sister has done! Explain to myself that which she has released onto your lands!

### Chapter 15

Mother was the ground, plants, and animals, but midlander, elf, and dwarf were the children she cared for. Sister wrapped herself around Mother, providing water and air. She was younger than Mother, only a few generations old in the lore of the Earth Mothers. While many had sought her out, few, if any, had found her, and if not for ancient stories, the marks of Sister would be unknown.

The eyes of the lad were like Mother: why Sister, why now? As it was late, her mind whirled with a thousand questions, which she hoped Mother would provide dream answers. Exhausted from tossing and turning, praying, and silently screaming for answers, she had ultimately drifted into a restless unconsciousness, and even though her eyes closed, dreams plagued her mind. Late the next morning, with sunlight streaming through the window, she sat upright in bed. Hurrying downstairs to the kitchen, she needed to talk to Alron before he departed, however, Gor advised nine had left several hours ago, taking Mirtza for his knowledge of midlanders. When she inquired of the others, he advised Ryan and Logan had also joined the excursion. While her pained expression surprised Gor, he thought it best to return to his chores.

*******

The night before, Lauren recalled the dark story Bor had told, but every time the image of the Earth Mother flashed in a dream, she heard the words; Mother said wait, welcome. Images of elves, dwarves, and others fleeing the unknown opponents fought against her peaceful slumber. Then, when the other words entered the dream, repeatedly she kept hearing, we were waiting for you. Images of her parents opening the front door, we were waiting for you, pushed the old dream to the side before both collided. Her parents were pointing at the television, showing outcasts marching down dusty roads, chased by blackness. Then, even stranger, her parents were driving trucks filled with dwarves and elves to destinations unknown. In the early morning, the staff fell off the bed, startling her awake, and before sitting up, she heard Alron knocking at the door.

*******

An hour before the first sun greeted the new day, Alron had woken everyone, and giving little concern that darkness still shrouded the path on the south road, he had chased them all down to the stables. Anxious to start the trip, he disliked traveling with such a large group with only Panry and himself to protect all. Should any trouble arise, Aaro and Bor would be of great assistance, but without the usual front and rear guards, it made him apprehensive.

As well, Ryan and Logan had tagged along, which Alron disliked as more bodies made it harder to protect the group, but waking with the others, they had followed them down to the stables. Having misunderstood the instructions, Hakk had saddled six ponies, not realizing two would ride stags. Mirtza was a last minute addition, suggesting his knowledge of midlanders might be useful. Even though no pony was available, he walked out of the stall with his own mount, which had eight legs. Having overheard the Earth Mother call Mirtza a Trickster, he was uncertain of the additional assistance, but Alron's knowledge of midlanders was lacking.

As they headed out, he sent Panry out as the front guard, advising if anything caused him alarm to return to the group immediately. Making Aaro ride rear guard, he and Bor escorted the rest. While John, Lauren, Ryan, and Logan may have had complaints against Mirtza, Alron was a cruel taskmaster, who denied all from speaking while on the move. Riding in the front, his deer-like ears swiveled from front to back, listening for any potential trouble, and his eyes scanned the road for marks left by Panry.

Laying out their bedrolls for the night, Mirtza observed Alron getting into a heated discussion with Panry. Barely able to make out what was happening, he understood the concern was with guarding the camp, and reluctantly approaching them, both went quiet. "I may be able to help. When I left on my travels, they lent a special gift to protect myself at night." Holding out his hand, it contained six small gold bats, "They will warn if anybody comes close to the camp. This way, all can sleep. If you wish, I can send them out."

Alron inquired, "Are such reliable?"

"They have warned of many threats on my travels, so yes."

"Elf guard is better, else elf magic I would prefer, but neither do I have."

"If you and Panry get insufficient sleep, you might make mistakes. Please, let me help."

"Deploy your tricks, Mirtza. Panry, sleep light. Aaro and Bor, sleep with axes ready."

Sending the magic bats into the evening, everybody tried to get comfortable on the cold ground.

*******

It sat on a ledge looking out over the mountain valley. Shape wrong. Small? Where? Too high. Me no like. Breeze. Different. Me could like. Looking down at the ground, it sailed away on the winds.

*******

While the first sun was barely up, the same was not true for Alron, who was making travel preparations. Straddling their mounts, he handed them fruit and a granola-like bar, and after several hours, they turned off the main road.

With less than two dozen buildings, the settlement was small, and grazing animals were the main source of income. The dwellings were made of crude earthen bricks, poorly fitted doors, and moss-stuffed cracks, but each dwelling also had a large wooden barn, presumably to shelter the various beasts during the winter months. After a quick look, they found all the buildings emptied of contents, but each had a BEWARE PLAGUE poster nailed to the door. Wanting to spend more time examining the structures, Alron convinced John they could make the next village before dark. As a reward, they would sleep inside that night with a fire – possibly even a hot meal. So they rode fast to the next hamlet, arriving before the last sun set.

This one was a little larger than the first, numbering three dozen dwellings, with houses constructed from wood. While most of the group looked for a decent shelter to spend the night, John and Ryan checked out the nearby houses, as Aaro and Bor kept a watchful eye on them.

"Ryan, something here doesn't add up."

"Is everything math with you?"

"For a plague to thrive, it requires certain components. Primarily, it needs a host to feed on, specifically so it can multiply, but it was almost a quarter day's travel between these two settlements. The perfect conditions for a plague to manifest would've been when the eastern dwarf clans stayed at the Ironhouse Mine. There you had overcrowding to support an outbreak with sufficient opportunities to find new hosts. A three-hour barrier between two settlements should provide an adequate impediment to halt a disease's transmission. Also, there are primarily two methods of transmission: air or touch. The only way for an infection to get to this settlement is if a human or animal host brought it here. An airborne illness would die long before traveling sixty-feet, let alone six hours."

"So, what're you saying?"

"It doesn't add up."

"Still math? How doesn't it add up?"

"Let me explain it this way. What we should find are signs saying keep out or stay away. Whoever lived here should've posted signs saying they didn't want visitors and possibly built a fence around the town. In all likelihood, somebody put these up after everybody left."

"I need time to digest that. Speaking of digestion, I'm hungry and tired, so let's go back. Maybe tomorrow, with a fresh perspective, it'll make more sense."

"Like something in this crazy world makes sense," muttered John.

The dwelling Alron had selected still had most of its furnishings, which was odd as the other houses were empty. There was a large kitchen with a central fireplace, but instead of finding the hot meal hinted at by Alron, cold field rations greeted them. Sitting around the weather-beaten dining table, they talked about their observations.

"Friend John, have you found any facts?" asked Alron.

His expression said it all, "No, it's like Mirtza said. Empty buildings and plague posters. Did you see any of the midlanders fleeing south? Did they have any herds of grazing beasts?"

"Some we did see with oxen, mule, or horse, but as for beasts that graze, none followed."

"That's strange. I would have thought taking grazing animals a priority."

"Perchance they carried calf on wagons, so the beasts would not slow them down?" replied Alron.

"Possibly, but when I looked in a few barns, it was like Mirtza said, not even straw or hay."

"Mayhap you can explain better?" inquired Panry.

"I'm not sure if I can, but here's the weird fact. The plague posters here are identical to the ones Mirtza found in the south. Months away, yet the posters are the same, like they were printed on the same press. The only purpose they serve is to scare away people. If somebody lived here and had a printing press, which we didn't find, I'm sure they would have been worded differently, but I thought for sure we would see signs of a plague, something, anything."

Lauren was counting on John to figure out this mystery. "Can we examine more buildings tomorrow?"

Hoping to keep the mission moving, Alron advised against it. "Should we leave early and ride hard, all can be in the larger settlement before dark tomorrow."

"Sure, let's go to the next one. There has to be something out here, somewhere."

They sat around the warmth of the fireplace for about an hour, discussing the plain things seen, but with boredom overtaking each, they soon found a place to bed down for the night.

*******

With an overcast sky, Alron thought it safe to brew a pot of hot bean juice for the morning meal. However, he actually had other motivations brewing, so he woke Logan, advising if he wanted the desired liquid that he had to help. Even though it was a strange request, Logan gladly paid the price. As they watched the water boil, Alron questioned him about Mirtza and his tricks, trying to understand what else the trickster could do, but when the rest woke, the conversation ended. While these accommodations may have been better, they did little to change the group's disposition. Before draining the last drops of the morning beverage, their mounts were packed and ready. Reminding all they had to ride hard to arrive before nightfall, Alron advised they would gallop for an hour before slowing down to a fast trot. With the countryside being open grasslands, there was no reason to deploy a front or rear guard, as they could see for miles. In the lead, Alron was smiling, as they were moving at a good pace and would have shelter before the second sun set.

When his deer ears swiveled to the back, sounds of the ponies were absent. Turning, he saw the rest stopped and looking to the east. Circling back around, he had a stern look, and his voice conveyed anger, "I ordered no such command for rest!" "Vultures." As John pointed to the distance, the others looked across the miles of grassland to a large stand of trees. Hovering above, hundreds of black birds.

Estimating a four-hour ride, Alron cursed to himself. "Perchance dead wildlife they feed on?"

"No, it has to be something big to attract that many scavengers."

"I don't care what they're feeding on, because we need to see it." Without asking permission, Lauren turned the pony towards the forest, digging her heels into the animal's ribs.

Eager for answers, John followed, as did the rest.

Traveling through the tall grass, Alron watched the distant forest inch closer.

"Should you not halt such travels?" asked Panry.

"She is Earth Daughter, and as for my commands, they are not for her to follow. She is right, and answers we need."

"Should she not consult about such first?"

"Expecting such I did. I hope Mother guides her."

"Such is wrong!"

"Panry, we protect and serve." Scanning the horizon with his eyes and ears, Alron dug his heels into the stag and raced after.

An hour away from the forest, when the wind shifted, everybody's face went flush, gagging on the foul air.

Lauren turned away from the wind, "What the hell's that smell?"

"Evidence," was John's simple reply.

"Death," proclaimed Alron.

The last hour was the longest, as even the stags and ponies tried to reject the forced direction. With the stench becoming so intense, Ryan and Logan had to dismount when they vomited.

Arriving at the forest edge, Alron, gagging on the thick air, rode up between John and Lauren, "Plague, turn back!"

Holding his arm across his nose and mouth, John shook his head. "I don't think so. Nobody would go to this much trouble to bury bodies out here, not unless they were trying to hide something."

Lauren's watery eyes held a fearful question, "You're sure about this? What if it is the plague?"

"Then those vultures would've died off a long time ago." While not 100% sure, John figured if he acted with confidence, they would continue. "Alron, let's go through the forest to get upwind."

Changing their course, the small group headed into the forest, greeted by large trees easily navigated. Once on the other side, they circled back to the vultures, as over one-hundred were circling in the sky, looking like a black cloud of death. On the ground, over three-hundred were scraping away at the soil, pecking at the putrefied protein forgotten long ago by the other scavengers. Dismounting, John headed to one of the pack animals and retrieved the beans used to make the morning beverage. Removing his shirt, he pulled the white T-shirt over his head, which temporarily exposed his hairless, bony white torso. After replacing the first, he ground the beans between two rocks, and placing the contents into the T-shirt, he wrapped it around his nose and mouth. The others did the same, using whatever materials they found. The elves and dwarves, hoping it might ward off the plague, mimicked the action.

Grabbing a shovel from a pack animal, John walked a hundred feet past the main group of vultures. Turning, he saw Ryan, who also had a bean filled T-shirt mask.

"Are you goddamned crazy?"

"Depends on what I find."

"What is this place?"

John began digging into the ground, "I think it's a mass grave."

Ryan's eyes expressed his unspoken concerns, "Is this where the people who died from the plague are buried?"

Struggling with the shovel, John stopped to answer. "No, if anybody survived, they would've buried the bodies closer to where they died. This place is in the middle of nowhere; this is where you hide something you don't want to be found."

Ryan grabbed the shovel, "You dig like a girl. The quicker we find... something, the faster we can get out of here. Damn, this is foul!" After unearthing a few feet of dirt, he started hitting hard objects. Forty-five minutes later, he had excavated a six-foot square area, exposing several decomposing bodies. That was when John called to Aaro and Alron, but Panry and Bor also joined them. The four cautiously approached the two.

"Plague?" asked Aaro."These deaths weren't natural," began John. "They didn't die from a disease. Come and see."

The four approached the hole, trying not to inhale, and with eyes watering, they were gagging on the rancid smells.

Wanting to vomit, Alron looked at the exposed dirt.

"What do you see?" asked John.

"Not anything," replied Panry.

Grabbing the shovel from Ryan, John jumped into the hole to scrape away dirt. At his feet were two bodies, and with the shovel, he pushed on a rotting skull, which rolled away from the rest of the corpse. "There isn't any sense in beheading somebody who has died of disease." After doing the same with the second head, he walked to the far end of the hole, "Look at this one. See what he's wearing: the same as those guys who attacked Lauren, so he isn't a midlander. Somebody must have had a lucky shot and killed him." Then he pointed at more bodies, "They're children. Can you see the sword marks on their leg and backbones? There's a plague infecting the lands, but it walks on two legs and kills with steel."

Extending a hand to John, Alron helped him out of the hole, "Such cannot be."

"I think your lands have been invaded. It was probably easier to kill these poor souls, as it would've taken too long or cost too much to send them to a prison camp. I don't understand why, but they brought them out here to hide the evidence. If they had buried them closer to a village, others might have done what we did and unearthed the truth." John started walking back to his pony.

"Bury them, should we not?" asked Aaro.

"These few – or all of them?" Raising the shovel to shoulder-height, John panned it across the field. The others looked closer at the area: the uneven ground with mounds of dirt and feeding vultures. The grave measured a thousand-feet or more, with four or five trenches. "They all died a long time ago, and we don't have that much time, because I want to see the next settlement." Heading back to the ponies, he heard the remaining follow, but nobody looked back, seeing if any ghosts bid farewell or wished them to avenge their deaths.

### Chapter 16

Taking to their mounts, everybody began asking questions, but all John said was, I need time to think. They spurred the mounts northward into the fresh breeze, filling their lungs with clean air. Crossing onto a wide path, which looked like thousands had constructed it with their feet, they picked up speed, as all wanted to find a warm and secure place for the night.

*******

It had watched from a tall dead tree, but when the group headed north, it quickly advanced to the lead, overtaking them. Then, with powerful eyesight, it spotted the threat. Bad men. Danger. Too many. Ground, get to the ground. Several minutes later, it landed, scampering down to the forest bottom. Examining the group of black-clad soldiers in front, it crept forward. Black and white? Me no like. Too many. Make smell? Make more bad smell! Me like bad smell.

*******

As the small group raced along the grass trail, they approached a large woodlot ahead in the distance. Alron was considering spending the night in it, but seeing Panry pointing, he was shocked when four dozen black-clad men raced out of the forest, waving their hands in the air. As they were so far away, nobody else would have seen them, if Panry had not pointed out the activity.

Elf eyesight was legendary, as many thought if an elf stood on the highest peak when a sun set, turned around, they would see it rise on the other horizon: an exaggeration, but not by much. Alron's ears instinctively turned forward, but with the wind, the distance was too great, so he could not determine the reason for the screaming. Panry and Alron rapidly steered their stags into the long grass, heading for the far side of the forest. When obscured by the trees, he gave the lead to Aaro and Bor, telling them to get the group to the next settlement. Then they started falling back, going wide of the obvious trail left by the seven, so if any followed, the two would discourage any interest in the small party.

As the second sun was setting, the seven arrived at the large abandoned town, but no streetlights offered illumination to welcome them. It had two main streets intersecting in the middle, and abundant shops and residences lined each side, but not one had a light shining through the window. Waiting for Alron and Panry to rejoin them, Aaro and Bor insisted the group stay together, and finding a large trough filled with stagnant water, Ryan and John tried to wash the smell of death out of their clothes. An hour later, the two elves arrived, advising none had followed.

In years past, both Aaro and Bor had visited this large community regularly. They traded dwarven made farm implements for various midlander goods: food, cloth, and similar. As a result, the Ironhouse clan was well known and liked by all midlanders, except for the blacksmith. Their frequent visits always started and ended at the local inn and tavern, greeted as friends, especially when they brought dwarven ale to the various festivals. Entering the once lively tavern, cobwebs and creaking floors greeted Aaro and Bor. The dwarves and elves searched the quiet structure, ensuring they were alone, before returning to the main room. The dusty tables still had candles and lamps on them, and without thinking, Logan, wanting to push back the dark, grabbed one, and as he turned, a bright flame greeted the black room. Under his sleeves, the feather tattoos remained hidden to the rest of the group, but he sensed the red one. When others grabbed similar, they brought them over, and the small army of light grew in size, reducing the darkness to dancing shadows in the corners.

Aaro and Bor had both considered the small inn their home away from home. On busy nights, they often lent a hand: serving drinks or keeping the crowd peaceful. Therefore, Aaro knew where everything was behind the bar, including where they hid the last keg of dwarven ale. As Bor saw him bring it out, he rounded up a set of dusty mugs, looking for the mostly clean ones.

Setting the keg on the table, Aaro tasted the contents to make sure it had remained unspoiled. "News good and bad I have. Found dwarf ale I did, but warm it is."

Quiet for too long, Lauren spoke. "What the hell happened today? What did you find at that disgusting place? Who were those people running out of the woods?"

Hearing the questions lacking direction, John looked at Alron, hoping the elf would satisfy her thirst for knowledge. He wanted a mug of the warm beer, hoping the golden liquid would kill the taste of death still lingering in his mouth. Instead, Alron stepped back, embracing the silent shadows.

Sensing the cold stare of Lauren, John asked Aaro for a mug of the warm beer, making her wait for a reply. Taking a mouthful, he rinsed the dust and death out of his mouth, spitting what remained onto the floor. Then, without providing graphic details, he explained what they saw, concluding with, "I imagine they slaughtered all without a chance to defend themselves." Taking another drink, he drained the mug, but the stale taste of death was still fresh in his mouth.

"This non-midlander, dressed in black?" asked Lauren. "Was he part of this two-legged plague you talk about?"

"I can't say for sure, but considering two similar attacked you without cause, I would guess so."

"Those in the forest, such were dressed the same," advised Alron.

"How could you see them? They were miles away?" replied Lauren.

"Great is elf eyesight."

Lauren was uncertain, "Could they be victims? Scared survivors, acting out of instinct and confused like the rest of us?"

"It's possible, but these lands are void of midlanders," replied John, "as we've only seen those black-clad figures. Could they be deserters or something else, yes, but I'm almost certain there's no plague."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Aaro, if the owner of this inn left of his own free will, beyond wealth and family, if only able to take one thing, what would it be?"

"Dwarf ale!"

"I agree. Even warm this is good." Then John looked to the floor, "I doubt if your friend still breathes, because given the chance to leave, he would have taken that keg of gold."

"Of our mission, is such complete?" inquired Alron.

"I want to have a better look in this village first. Can we make that call tomorrow?"

Alron nodded, hoping to head back sooner than expected, although the news would disturb all.

"John, all of those people slaughtered. Why?" asked Ryan.

"Damn it, I wish I knew. I think part of the answer is back at the Ironhouse Mine: that sword and suit of armor, and all that Lauren said; rivers of blood, armies, screams of terror, and blood lust. I don't know how Eric will do it, or if he can. In short, an invasion is the only thing that makes sense, and that sword and armor are here to stop it. How? I don't know, but in this crazy mixed up magic-filled, science-absent world, I don't understand how to apply logic. Something has happened, and something else will happen. When it's all done, I'll try to explain it then."

Lauren's concern was apparent, "Well, where are these armies: the people who killed those innocents?"

John finished the last of his drink, "That's a good question, but I don't know. Where are they now? Going after them to finish what they started, or to make sure they don't plan a counterattack. Here, it's anybody's guess."

Then she asked the one question on everybody's mind, "What do we do now?"

"Tomorrow, let's have a look around and see if we can find any new evidence. After that, we'll head back to the Ironhouse Mine to inform the Earth Mother of what we've found."

*******

It silently crept through the dark shadows, sniffing the air. Many. Everywhere. Hunt fresh. Me like fresh. So much fresh.

*******

An hour later, it surprised Mirtza when a small bat flew through the open doorway, landing on his shoulder. "Intruders, we are not alone!" Alron gave a quick glance to him. "My bats never lie! Something out there means us harm."

With the shock instantly registering, Alron and Panry rushed to the front with swords drawn, followed by Aaro and Bor with axes in hand. Standing in the doorway, Alron stared into the black, realizing his greatest nightmare was about to be born from the surrounding darkness: trapped and outnumbered. In the forest, he was in his element, being able to use the trees to his advantage, blending in and setting traps. In these wooden canyons, sounds bounced off the timber walls, making it impossible to locate the opponents. Panry and Alron's deer ears were twitching from left to right, trying to figure out where the attack would come from. Secretly, Alron had hoped to capture an intruder for questioning, but outnumbered, protecting the Earth Daughter was his priority, unless a favorable situation occurred.

"Panry, Earth Daughter you shall protect and stay by her side," ordered Alron.

"I should fight, as you know not any can best myself."

"That is why you shall protect Earth Daughter. Aaro, Bor, our guests seek welcome. Perchance you can extend dwarf hospitality to those uninvited?" The two dwarves, with war axes in hand, slipped through the door and disappeared into the night. Alron turned to the five, "All others, stay close to her." Heading outside, he stepped onto the front porch, waiting to find out what surprises skulked in the dark night, absent of moon shadows.

A few seconds later, Logan joined him, holding a club found behind the bar, "Mind if I help?"

"Noble are your efforts, but such shall hinder myself. Back inside you should go." From the far end of the town, they heard somebody scream in terror, followed by a beastly howl. "Back inside now!" commanded Alron.

He remained, "Pretty dark out here. Would light help?"

"Of your games, I have not any time for such." Scanning the street with both eyes and ears, Alron was getting frustrated, hearing too many sounds to determine what was happening.

Shrugging his shoulders, Logan's eyes were two dark orbs. "Of the street lamps, oil still calls many home." With that, he cast his arms and hands out. Two lamps lit, and then two more. Gradually, the wick of each neighboring lamp received a gift of fire, pushing back the blackness from the street.

As six men clad in black approached from the west, another six advanced from the east, all with weapons drawn. Upset to find their cloak of darkness banished, they rushed the inn, unaware that dwarves shadowed them, but when battle-axes met knees, painful screams called out. The hunters, realizing they were now the hunted, turned to face the rear attackers. Seeing a single dwarf and with a five-to-one advantage, they never considered the small fighters with the large axes to be a real threat. It was apparent they had never fought dwarves before, because after four precise swings, four more would never fight dwarves again. The one remaining, from each group, quickly determined it easier to outrun the short legs, as they had no interest in sharing the bloody fates of their comrades.

Watching them run into dark alleys, Alron cursed, as his bow was still with his stag, so he watched them flee. From the far end of the town, more screams filled the night. As his sensitive ears swiveled in that direction, he heard sounds from a snarling beast echoing through the streets, but was uncertain about its intent.

Bor and Aaro joined Alron and Logan on the steps of the inn. Aaro was upset, "Street lights, why? Dead all would be!"

"Such was not myself," and Alron pointed to Logan. "He befouled your surprise, but how, I know not."

Considering the danger passed, Lauren moved towards the front of the inn, but Panry was blocking her way. However, with one ear facing the doorway, the conversation out front distracted him, allowing her to step around. As John and Mirtza followed, nobody saw Ryan head to the back of the inn.

Ryan, paralyzed with fear, saw them first. With his heart racing, he tried to scream, but with his fear so great, it did not allow his body to respond with the simple survival mechanism. From the shadows, six armed black-clad men quietly advanced.

Chapter 17[Threat Present. Defensive Options: Null. Offensive Options: Null. Improvise.] Several tables and chairs separated the threats from Ryan, who was so scared he was having difficulty breathing, as two groups of six with threatening swords advanced. [Engage. Null Response. Threat Level Increased. Implement.] Although he never sensed it, deep down inside something happened, like a switch turning on. [Analyze. Prioritize. Counter Strategy. Implement. Null Response.]

Alron was displeased, as Lauren and her friends were crowding the door, trying to get a look at the bodies in the dimly lit street. At the far end of the town, they all heard the wolf howl, and Lauren felt a chill.

Thirty-feet behind, the six black-clad figures were all in the room now. Ten-feet in front, Ryan stood: white as a sheet, his eyes wide with fear, and his jaw clenched in a silent scream. [Emergency Override.] Closing his mouth, the lost color returned as he stepped forward, but his movements were mechanical, controlled, calculated, and extremely precise. Kicking a large table, the force was so great it glided effortlessly across the floor, crushing two of the black-clad men between the table and stonewall. Before the eight in the doorway turned, Ryan kicked the other large table, blocking the path of two more.

Reacting to the threat, Panry moved to engage the rear attack.

Picking up a chair, Ryan threw it to the ground, causing it to fragment against the stone floor. With the trajectories calculated and the force specific, the impact of wood on stone caused it to erupt into a swarm of splinters, with each major wooden projectile having a predetermined flight path. As predicted, the armed assailants dropped, dodging the smaller hailstorm of splinters. Sharpened spikes raced through the air to the programmed locations, and as the black-clad men dropped their swords, they jumped into the empty sanctuaries of safety. Traveling with the necessary force and a precise projection, wooden chair legs, converted into sharpened spears, greeted the black-clad men. After the improvised projectiles had pierced the soft neck flesh, grazing major arteries, they smashed into the bones forever ending their dark plans. Panry was on top of the table, silencing the last two, bringing quiet to the room once more.

Walking over to Ryan, Alron looked at the dead, "Friend, you have impressed myself. How did you accomplish that which my eyes do not believe?"

Logan smiled, "How did you accomplish what my eyes do not believe – I finally heard that which."

"Witch? What witch?" Lauren was shaking her head, "What are you talking about?"

"Affirmative," nodded Logan, "or would that be yes?"

[Disengage.] Ryan was shaking his head, trying to force something back into place. Blinking, he wiped the sweat from his forehead, "I don't know. I guess I was lucky." Turning, he headed to the cask of dwarven ale, uncertain of what had happened.

With Aaro and Bor standing guard, Alron and Panry searched the bodies of the black-clad men. After examining the first four, they found strange documents, written in an unknown language. Going over to the two trapped behind the table, with all their might, they tried to move it, but it refused their efforts. That was when Alron noticed it had not only crushed the two black-clad men, but it had knocked loose several stone blocks, embedding itself into the wall. Even though Alron pointed it out to Panry, both said nothing. Examining the documents, the elves had seen nothing similar, and after passing them around, nobody could even guess what they might say. If they had maps or similar, John might have been able to decipher something, but no two individuals in the group even agreed on what side was the top. Lacking any value, Alron threw them into the fire.

When Lauren wanted, she could sequence and coordinate her thoughts and words, making anybody give up secrets they had sworn to keep, but this was not one of those times. "What the hell just happened?"

Alron was scratching his right deer ear, "Such is unknown." Needing more time to think, he issued his orders, "Panry, the first watch shall be mine, and the second yours. Aaro, first watch, the back of the inn belongs to you. Bor, the second shall be yours. Everyone else, sleep calls, as tomorrow shall be a long day." Turning his back on the group, he headed to the front step of the inn and looked at the still burning street lamps. What happens?

Aaro and Bor tossed the dead bodies outside, except for the two trapped between the wall and table, which Panry covered with a sheet. Then Panry and Bor found a place to bed down, hoping their shift arrived later than earlier. Mirtza, grabbing a bedroll, took it close to the fireplace, and Lauren grabbed John by the shoulders, still wanting answers.

"It can wait until morning," as he also needed time to figure out what was happening.

Sleep, if you could call it that, failed to greet all, as restful tossing better described it. Every creaking floorboard or windblown sign caused all to open their eyes, and staring into the dark, they listened for footsteps. As well, like a medieval clock tower, every hour the unseen wolf howled.

There was no need to announce the new day, as all were awake before the first sun pushed back the night. The cold rations set out the night before, untouched, were quickly picked over. As saddles and mounts reunited, John and Lauren wandered into the settlement. Even though Alron protested, John advised that answers waited – if he could find them. Tired and confused from the previous night, Alron wanted to get the group back to the Ironhouse Mine, so he put Mirtza in charge of the travel preparations, leaving Bor and Aaro to guard the rest. Panry, still exhausted, followed John and Lauren, and Alron watched from the main intersection.

While the ten slain black-clad bodies still lay motionless in the street, there was nothing odd or unusual about them. Searching several buildings, John and Lauren found most still contained all their original possessions. He also examined a few of the houses, which looked like doors had been kicked in, hoping to find one where evidence still existed; blood splatter, a forgotten corpse, a dying message scratched into a wall. Even though he found a few bodies, they were fresh, having their throats ripped out by a beast, and all were clad in black.

"John, what do we tell the Earth Mother?"

"That somebody attacked us. I think those men are invading this land. Using the plague as a hoax, they kept the people from finding out the truth. They move in, surround the town, and then take everybody prisoner. Because this is such a vast land with minimal infrastructure, it wouldn't be possible to ensure they captured everybody, so they put up those plague posters to scare anybody else away. That way, if somebody returned to a town like this, and found everybody gone, they would believe the plague threat. Returning to their village, they would tell everybody else. While some may have left, others might have stayed behind and thought they were in no danger, until they saw their settlement surrounded."

Twirling the streak of purple hair, she continued, "The Earth Mother will want to know what we should do. What are we going to say?"

"Calm down. Worrying is like an eroding riverbank too close to a house. Rain and melting snow make the levels rise and fall, so it eats into the earth. If all you do is shore it up with gravel, the water will continue to eat into the bank until it consumes the house. What you want to do is place large stone blocks: something to shield the bank from the worry. You need to battle it with something of worth, something that has substance, something that can stand up and deflect the fear away. We have that now, so they don't have to consider the unknown. Now they need to plan and act on what we tell them."

They spent another hour checking out the empty houses and shops, but there was no evidence equal to the mass grave. It was still early in the morning when, much to Alron's satisfaction, John and Lauren straddled their ponies, as there was no need to go to the last settlement. It pleased Alron to hear John advise the investigation was over, and even though two days of hard travel waited, he hoped they would be uneventful.

The countryside was becoming more uneven, as gullies carved by distant mountain streams were common. Sporadic forests inhabited the grasslands, increasing the threats of hidden attacks and slowing the group. Because of this, Alron sent Panry ahead to be the front guard, having Aaro and Bor take up the rear. After giving Panry sufficient time, Alron kept them riding hard for most of the day and continued past the first sun set. He had advised Panry to look for a night camp after the second sunset, as he disliked the risk of camping in the open.

As commanded, Panry found a respectively sized forest that afforded the cover and protection sought. The hard ride had depleted the travelers of strength, but the warmth of a fire would help replace it. As everybody prepared their bedding for the night, all were complaining of sores or cramped muscles, and the sight of cold field rations did little to improve morale. Even Alron's announcement of Gor's welcoming feast the next night did little to make them smile. Overcome with exhaustion, few ate, as most took to their bedrolls, wishing the ground beneath them stopped galloping.

*******

Quietly the next morning, Alron woke Panry and the Ironhouse brothers, getting them to saddle the mounts and pack up the camp. Hoping an extra hour of sleep would trick the riders, he wanted them to believe they were more refreshed, to push them harder that day. When ready, Alron coaxed them from their dreams, and getting them on their feet, they were unaware the cold field rations were absent. Before realizing they were awake, Alron and Panry had them on the mounts and heading back to Ironhouse. As Panry took the front guard, Alron advised Bor and Aaro to ride with the group today. With the ever-changing landscape, he thought it more likely they would ride into a trap, rather than somebody overtaking them from behind.

*******

It had been following them for several hours, but the distant mountains now appeared closer. Me tired. No more fresh. Want fresh. No more. Me go back now.

*******

Around noon, they rode into a small valley that had a large expanse of grassland on the other side, finding Panry waiting for them, as a front guard did little where the threats were visible for miles. Looking to be at least a three-hour ride to the nearest forest, with the group complaining of sores and hunger, Alron turned them back into the valley for a rest. The cold field rations stopped them from complaining aloud, but only until they had swallowed the impediment that both fueled and stifled their complaints.

They were halfway to the distant forest, surrounded by open grasslands, when the powerful elf eyesight saw the first head crest the next ravine: black-clad soldiers. Alron turned the party south, smacking the ponies, and scaring them into a gallop. Glancing back, they saw the dust cloud building, as the opposing forces sounded alarms. Even though they may have been an hour apart, the hard ride on the ponies and stags was showing. The little valley, where they had stopped for lunch, was too far away, and even if they made it in time, it lacked any defensible positions. Scanning the grasslands, Panry pointed to a small hill in the close distance that might provide enough cover. Alron, pointing to the right, shouted to Aaro and Bor, who were now at the front of the pack. Cutting their mounts into the field of long grass, they dug their heels into the beasts, forcing them to pick up the pace. The other ponies instinctively followed the first, and the inexperienced riders held on for dear life, no longer in control.

As they burst into the peaceful field, startled birds erupted from the long grass, sounding their own warnings, and as more took to the sky, they attempted to flee the sudden invasion. Soon the entire grassland was an eruption of feathers, as birds by the thousands, and then hundreds of thousands filled the sky, being so loud their calls drowned out the commands from Alron. The long grasses were even more devastating to the progress than anticipated, and with his vision obscured by birds, he could not determine how close the threat was. It shall not end like this, Mother. He pushed his stag forward, Must protect Earth Daughter.

Soaring higher, the birds swarmed, flying left to right, and then right to left. With the patterns becoming tighter, it looked like an aerial ballet in the sky, and if not for the imposing threat, one might have enjoyed the display.

With the field clear of birds, Alron looked for the black-clad men, discovering they had pushed their fresh mounts even harder than he had pushed their stale ones. The leaping of his stag made it hard to focus on the horde, but catching glimpses of white sweat on the black horses, he realized they would be on them in twenty minutes, thirty at the most. As the stag jumped, an uneasy sensation flooded his elf senses, and looking over his other shoulder, he saw Logan standing in the middle of the field, whose pony hobbled on three good legs. Screaming to Panry, he pointed.

Panry looked back; a death sentence to rescue the midlander, as too close they are. Still, turning hard and reaching for his bow, he saw Logan raise one arm to the sky. When extended, Logan closed his open hand, and bringing it down swiftly, he threw the empty contents at the opponents racing forward. However, as Panry saw nothing, he figured it was an act of defiance. Gripping his stag tightly with his knees, Panry, holding his bow, was reaching for an arrow on his back. Knowing he would never hit a target, he hoped to slow them down, allowing him to save Logan.

Before focusing on a target, the sky turned black. Forming into a swirling cloud, birds so thick consumed both the blue sky and the black-clad forces, and with the unusual obstruction blurring their vision, their horses stumbled, tripped, and tossed riders before trampling them to death. With the swirling vortex of small black birds shrouding the horde, Panry slowed his stag and watched in amazement. The invading men swung swords at the small birds, striking their own, even killing their own horses. As the birds continued, Alron and the rest circled back, listening to the horrified screams barely audible over the squawking birds. For twenty minutes, the black cloud of feathers engulfed the riders, resulting in more falling to the ground. Occasionally, a horse bolted free from the dark cloud, racing down the road as it dragged the screaming rider.

After another ten minutes, Logan brought his left arm up and motioned as if he pushed something away. Gradually, the swirling whirlwind of birds took to the sky, flying off in all directions. The group looked at the scene, and on the ground, surrounded by thousands of dead birds, laid the men who had chased them with such confidence. That confidence, much like their breath, was now absent, so they waited for more black birds: the vultures.

"Earth Daughter, was such you?" asked Alron.

"I don't think so."

Rubbing his forearms, Logan, the tattoo feathers now absent, walked over to the group, "I need a ride. Can somebody give me a lift?"

"Did you do such?" asked Alron.

Logan shrugged his shoulders, "The pony tripped and threw me. When I stood, I saw the bird's attack. Maybe they were upset?"

Riding his eight-legged horse over to Logan, Mirtza helped him up.

The group trotted past the massacre scene. Three dozen riders and horses lay lifeless on the crimson ground, as black feathers still twisted in the breeze, floating on small scarlet puddles of blood.

The silence continued for the rest of the day. Having seen the snow-capped mountains come into view that afternoon, they pushed the mounts harder, pushing all the strange events to the back of their minds. With the mountains growing in size, each thought they smelt Gor's cooking, and they anticipated the comfort of the large warm beds. The third sun was low behind the mountains when Alron smacked the stable door, which Hakk opened, and stripping the gear from the mounts, they put the tired animals in pens with fresh grain and water. When Alron turned around, scanning the group, he saw Mirtza heading to the exit, but the odd eight-legged horse was nowhere in sight. Gingaar, who had gone to the stables with Hakk, retreated to the upper levels to report to the Earth Mother when sure all had returned safely.

Gor, who had prepared most of the meal in advance, was setting the table when the dining room door opened. With the aroma of hot bean juice thick in the air, Logan headed for the smell before Gor started his welcome home speech. Sitting in the back of the dining hall, Zack cradled a pitcher of dwarven ale beside him. Then one-by-one, the other riders entered. Both Dawnfalcons were present, rubbing their arms, and Eric was favoring his legs. When Gingaar helped the Earth Mother in, she looked older, almost fragile, and it shocked Lauren to see her withered condition.

Starved from field rations and strenuous travel, they all filled plates high with food: waiting to report on the events until done. As Lauren ate, she maintained a watchful eye on Gingaar and the Earth Mother. A shriveled old lady had replaced the fiery little elf left behind, whose ears now drooped. Having also noticed the change, Alron and Panry shared glances demonstrating a mutual concern. After the meal, they took turns explaining the events, concluding with the last attack."Birds? Attack?" the Earth Mother looked confused. "How can such be?" She then saw Logan rubbing his forearms, "Alron, in private, speak with myself." Taking his chair over, she summarized the meeting with Logan. "Birds live in Sister's realm, and her call, such they would answer. Brother of Earth Daughter is Sister's gift."

Alron had a confused look, "You think Logan does such? Sister?"

"Sure I am, as her marks he has. Water and fire, allies new you have." Then she turned to Gingaar, "Please, help myself to my room as I tire. Earth Daughter, tomorrow we shall talk."

### Chapter 18

As it was late in the evening, John, having retired to his room, was looking forward to a warm, long overdue restful sleep, but somebody knocking on the door had other ideas.

Logan stuck his head into the room, "We need to talk."

"Can't it wait till morning, I'm tired."

"No, it can't." Entering, he rolled up his shirtsleeves to display the red and blue feather tattoos in the hall light.

"Does your mother know you have those? She will kill you."

"It gets even better. Watch this." Logan rubbed the red feather against the grain, causing the small segments of the feather to break apart, and when he rubbed it the opposite way, they married back together. "I didn't get them back home. I found them here in that forest, where Lauren picked up that strange staff."

"I don't understand what you're saying?"

After explaining the events, he added details about the night before the trip. "The Earth Mother took me to her room and asked questions about the cold water. You remember when Lauren was bathing Eric. Well, it seems I made the water cold. Oh, I forgot to mention, after entering the room, I started a fire without flint. Before I left, I pulled it into my hand and extinguished it. She said these things were from somebody called Sister."

"Slow down and let me take this in."

"I don't remember what I said to the Earth Mother, but I'm positive I did a decent impression of Lauren, you know, the new Lauren? I thought my head spin around. Those streetlights, that was me. Those birds, guess what; also me. No idea how I did it, and now these damn feathers won't go away, but I can remember everything."

"Get in here." As Logan closed the door, darkness engulfed the room. "You better open it back up for light, just a little."

"How about this instead?" In the dark, projecting a closed fist towards the fireplace, he extended his fingers at the same time, resulting in a flame bursting upwards.

"Wow!"

"John, what's going on?"

"Well, first, how do you feel?"

"Everything seems okay, not hot under the collar or any fever. I just happen to be able to make fire. Simple, right: nothing to get excited about, right?"

"Wow! Well, if you want a guess, I think you and Lauren, being twins, share the same DNA and... I don't know – gifts? Perhaps Lauren attracts one type, the female magic, and because of the same DNA, but different chromosomes, you attract the male magic, as nature usually creates forces in two to maintain balance."

"Wait a minute. Why would Sister be in charge of the male magic? Shouldn't Sister be Brother, cause that makes more sense."

"Nothing in this world makes sense!" John's voice became excited, "Everything in this freaking world is strange. Do I consider your anomaly within the established standards of this strange world? Completely! You can grow horns or turn into a snake, and I will still consider it reasonable for this place. You can walk through a wall, or show me your insides, and I still will not consider it odd. If back home, I would say you had a real problem. Then, after phoning the government, turn you in for a big reward." His voice grew louder and more excited, "Here? Here, I don't understand what normal is anymore!"

"What should I do?"

"Well, if you're like Lauren, perhaps you have an external benefactor who's—"

"A what?"

"If somebody is guiding you, like they're guiding Lauren, go with the flow, but be careful when you pass gas."

"What – or do you mean that which?"

Shaking his head, John started laughing, "Be careful when you fart, because that would hurt."

"You don't think I can..."

"I don't know what to think. Tomorrow we should go see the Earth Mother. Let's talk to her because she might be able to provide answers."

"I don't like her, and she's not looking all that good right now."

"Well," corrected John, "she is not looking that well."

"Well what, or do you mean—"

"If you want answers, we'll go talk to her tomorrow." Walking Logan to the door, John pushed him into the hall, and placing a chair against it, he ensured no other oddities walked in. Crawling back into bed, he stared at the fireplace. At least he could have extinguished that before leaving.

*******

The next morning, with a fresh breeze blowing in the window, sunlight streamed through the open shutters. Lauren struggled with a dilemma: should I have a warm bath or go down for breakfast? Or stay warm and safe here in my bed? Once dressed, she headed down to the kitchen, looking forward to her morning greeting.

"Good morning, Earth Daughter. What would please you today?"

Crap. I should've stayed in bed. All of her hungry friends had filled the kitchen, "I'll wait for the regular breakfast in the dining hall."

"Take time it will, as missed greatly I was."

"That's okay, Gor, please look after my friends." Heading out to the main dining hall, Lauren found a pot of the hot bean juice, and seeing Alron deep in thought sitting in the far corner, she approached cautiously. "May I join you?"

"Earth Daughter, such would be most welcome."

"What's wrong with the Earth Mother? She looks, well, she looks old."

"She is the eldest of the elder."

"So, now we understand there's no plague, and an army invades these lands. What happens next?"

"Earth Daughter, I shall meet with Earth Mother this morning. Perchance this day answers and actions both shall be born."

Sensing he had other matters on his mind, when she saw Eric enter the dining hall, she excused herself to talk to him. As they were talking, Zack walked into the dining room to get a fresh pitcher of ale and then left.

"You might want to speak to him," advised Eric. "He may have gone on a bender, as I don't recall seeing him at all last week, but the training was keeping me busy."

Lauren spent the rest of the morning avoiding people; the way answers eluded her. Wandering through the mine, she evaded all glances from any, ending up at the terrace door of their meeting room. Seeing Ryan sitting with his back to her, she started twirling the fading purple streak.

Thinking he heard the door open, Ryan turned around, but there was nobody there.

*******

Towards noon, Lauren, still combing the last few knots out of a freshly dyed streak of purple, opened the door to see Gingaar waiting. Nodding in approval, she then led Lauren to meet with the Earth Mother. As the two proceeded down the hall, they saw Alron, whose face was pale, exiting her room, but he failed to greet them in passing.

Propped up in the bed, the Earth Mother somehow looked even older. "Earth Daughter, please sit and we shall talk." Wanting to leave, Lauren took a deep breath before walking over. As she sat, the Earth Mother smiled, "Answers we now have. Too late, or can you change where the winds now blow? Can you push such back?"

Looking at the aged elf, Lauren felt compelled to reply, but the only answers she had were John's, which seemed to make sense. "I don't think it's too late, as they may have used trickery to get this far, probably because they have a small force. Once we tell the people what's happening, they should want to fight back, but you'll need an army, because if they have one, you should also."

"You did good, Earth Daughter. Mother's children, of them, we need to find and show them the truth. Can you accomplish such?"

"Pardon?"

"You did say, tell the children. First, you must find such."

"I don't know where they are, Earth Mother. I don't know this land. I don't know..."

"Mother brought you here to help. Answers you have provided, but of your task, such remains unfinished. Mother's children still suffer, but you were chosen to save all."

"I need time to consider that. I wasn't... I don't know... What am I..."

"Earth Daughter, of my time, such is short, as Mother calls myself to join her."

"What do you mean?"

"When my duties are not any more, she shall call myself home. On that journey, she desires Earth Daughter's presence."

"You're going to die?"

"I go to be with Mother, not die."

"Once you are with her, can we still talk?"

"When I am with Mother, not any more can we talk. Only to Mother can I speak, and she shall tell myself that which you say."

She's dying. They want to stuff me into her shoes and expect me to lead them down some path. Then what, everybody gathers in a circle to sing happy songs? "I wasn't expecting this. I need time to think." Not asking permission, Lauren stood and left the room.

*******

John was upset, "Look, I need to see the Earth Mother."

"Of your troubles, tell myself," advised Alron. "Should such concern Earth Mother, I shall consult her, but she is weak and needs rest."

"Do you promise not to tell anybody else?" Alron nodded in agreement, "Well, if it's the only way." John collected his thoughts, "Do you remember when they attacked in that deserted village?"

Holding up his hands, Alron stopped him, "Earth Mother has advised of such already. Friend Logan is Sister's gift, and from her, guidance he now receives."

"What do you mean? Who's Sister?"

"Mother is the ground. Sister is the air, the rain that falls, and birds dwell in her realm."

It took a few seconds for John to re-organize his thoughts, "Well, what does that all mean?"

"Mother, her bond is strong with those selected. Male born, such she would not consider, so mayhap Sister takes an interest in her brother. Now plans I need to make." With that, Alron headed towards the kitchen.

*******

Entering the dining hall, Lauren walked up to John, "The Earth Mother's dying, and they want me to guide them. Before you ask, no, I don't know who or where they are. What the hell's happening? Waiting for us? Swords and armor? Plague, no wait, not a plague, invasion and now guide? What the..."

Sitting a few tables over, Zack saw the expression on John's face. Even though he tried to hold it in, he failed to contain his laughter. As Lauren glared, he reached for the pitcher of ale, wondering if the cold gaze had chilled it and then joined them. "So, Earth Daughter, you seem upset. What's up?"

"Leave us alone, Zack."

"Not going to happen. Everybody always goes to John when there's a problem: the one who lives a perfect life. If you have problems, talk to somebody with experience. Coincidently, I have seventeen years of full-time exposure in that area. What's wrong?"

"You're drunk, so leave us alone."

"No, just buzzed. What has the Purple Princess so pissed?"

Lauren glared at him.

"Dudette, you got nothing. If you want to see an evil eye, my uncle can give you lessons. When you scowl at me, it thaws my frozen heart. Yeah, it reminds me of the warmth I received in all those foster homes. It was usually from beatings, but beggars can't be choosy – I believe that's what the third set of parents said." Zack smiled and tried to mimic an elf talking, "So what has Earth Daughter so off pissed about?"

Even though this amused John, the look from Lauren suggested it should not.

"The way those elves speak screws me up," began Zack. "If I have a long talk with one, I need to sit in front of a mirror for an hour, just talking to myself. You know, trying to get my ears to work right, and don't start me on those ears. Man, do they freak me out. Seriously, why so pissed?"

Ignoring Zack was futile, as he had years of experience, so Lauren figured it was quicker to feed his desire for acknowledgment, because only then would he grow bored before wandering off. "First, the Earth Mother is dying."

"Happens all the time; old people croak. I imagine she had a good life, right? Crap, it's not like she's related, and you barely freaking know her, so what's the next problem."

Closing her eyes, Lauren shook her head.

"Still here, so what's the next problem?"

"They want me to guide them."

"Cool! Where're we going? This place is getting stale."

"The Earth Mother wants me to guide them to find the people so they can raise an army, but she probably means Eric."

"Freaking cool. John, can you imagine handing in a paper like that at school? What I did on Spring Break: How I raised an army and fought an invasion. Bound to get an A+, though you might be really old before handing it in. Saving people is cool, righteous you might even say. When do we start?"

"Zack, are you trying to be an idiot?"

"No trying involved, as I perfected it years ago, but honestly, this isn't my idiot act. John, tell me if I'm right. Some cosmic force on this weird little planet realizes it has a big problem, and from the sounds of it, we're talking catastrophic or extinction level. For some crazy, most likely stoned reason, they reach out and grab our school bus."

"Stoned?" asked John. "Aren't you pushing it a little?"

"There are tons of examples of medicine men, voodoo doctors, hell, even generals taking stimulants and going on vision quests. You have to agree, all natural, growing from mother earth. You know, Mother?" With Zack being on a roll, John wanted to see where the crazy ride would end. "So these cosmic dudes have a problem, and for some freaky reason, they grab our school bus. Seriously, think about it, what are the odds? You grab a handful of kids, but one of them is big enough to use that sword and fits inside the armor. Admit it; Eric is freakishly big. Must be like a gazillion to one. So this cosmic force likes little girls... No, wait, that doesn't sound right. You have this Mother figure who only has eyes for the ladies. No, still sounds bad. This cosmic Dudette, she only talks to other Dudettes, yeah, that sounds better. Lauren would get her attention: strong, driven, passionate, but she sucks at science, so that's why she was happy to see John on the bus. Somebody to do the math, knows about science, and book smart." He turned his focus back to Lauren, "For some strange, screwed-up reason, they need you, and Lauren, right now, no bullshit, need is a pretty neat feeling. If this Mother Dudette needs you, freaking embrace it, because the other side of the coin sucks a lot worse. Somebody chose you, so find a peak, climb to the top, and announce it to the effing world. They want and need you, but you fight against this because... Why are you fighting it? Who cares? If you want to fight something, fight for those who can't fight for themselves. Fight for those who can't stand up against the unknown." Zack's voice was becoming energized, "Damn it, Lauren, something here believes in you, and it's bigger than we'll ever know. I have seen the freaky things you've been doing. Somebody or something here likes you, believes in you, so embrace it. You might have doubts, but straight up, need and belief, man, those are incredible forces. They conquered the highest peaks, scoured the ocean depths, hell, they even put a man on the moon. Need and belief: they build nations, overthrow governments, cure illness, create life, and more." Lauren and John were silent when Zack stood, "Believe in the need; need the belief." Then he turned and left the dining hall.

John looked at Zack's empty mug, wondering what used to be in it, "I thought he was doing well until the last sentence."

"That stupid bastard."

Pulling his head back, John was expecting a different reaction from Lauren, as he thought Zack had made a few good arguments, "What do you mean?"

"Where the hell did that come from? Was that Zack? First, did I just see passion and emotion from the Zombie? What the hell are they putting in that beer? No offense, John, but he made sense. His delivery was somewhat brutal, but I believe he's right. Am I wrong?"

"Yes... No – wait a minute. The next time you need advice, let's get buzzed first to see if it helps my delivery. Now that he's gone, what's bugging you?"

"That emotionless shadow called Zack, he's right. The situation sucks, and I don't have the experience to guide, and I don't even understand what we're up against. Yet, innocent people are dying, and something here seems to have embraced me, so perhaps I should embrace it back? I need time to think." Standing, Lauren headed to her room.

John watched her leave. I need to hang around Zack more often; maybe start drinking more. What the f...

### Chapter 19

Alron found Mirtza in one of the armories, watching as Eric had the final adjustments made to the armor. Both were impressed with what he saw, as the light dancing on the black armor made it look threatening, even without the sword.

"A good fit. Of the weight, is such heavy?"

Fodu walked over, "Light it is, but odd. Crafted from a special ore, both are. Forged pure, and seen this before today, I have not."

"Odder than the sword that dwarf forged?" asked Alron.

"Odd both are."

"This is kind of cool," Eric said, grinning from ear to ear, "Alron, watch this." Smacking the back of his hands together, metal spikes extended out from the knuckles on the gauntlets, and hitting them a second time, they retracted. Flexing his shoulders, spikes emerged from the shoulder mantle, and with a second shrug, they retracted. Raising his left arm, as if he was trying to punch the ceiling, several pieces of metal abandoned the sheath that hid them, extending out ten-inches. Then an unknown mechanism spread them out, creating a small buckler shield twenty-inches in diameter. When Eric did a downward punch, the devices reversed their actions, returning to the hidden location once again.

"Impressive is your armor; dwarf made, and not any finer exists, so such shall serve you well. You should show such to Earth Daughter. Mirtza, a word with you please." As Eric and the dwarves went up to show everybody the armor, Mirtza looked at Alron, uncertain of what he wanted to talk about. "On our trip, your tricks, though I consider that word wrong, useful they were, as your bats were a great boon. I asked Logan of your other tricks. Of beasts and wagons in your pockets, empty chests filled with food, and more he told me about."

"Alron, I realize the Earth Mothers do not trust my talent. I had no desire to impose my abilities on your beliefs. I am sorry if I have displeased you." When unsure, apologize.

"Friend Mirtza, I am not upset. Earth Mother has heard Mother's call, and as such, I plan her trip to reunite. Our recent trip has made such clear that great threats are upon the lands, and much help I shall need. Earth Mother cannot ride, so I require your wagon. Your beasts fast and slow, a great boon they would be. Empty chests filled with food will make such easier. Will you consider lending such help to my task?"

Of all the things Mirtza never expected to hear, an elf asking an Impure Trickster for help was at the top of his list. The other students will never believe this. Then his thought ran into a wall: If I ever find them. "Alron, it would be my greatest pleasure to assist you and the Earth Mother. When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow, as time is short and threats are close. Should too long I wait, fail I shall, and such I cannot let happen."

*******

Fodu approached Bor and Aaro before the last meal of the day. "Dwarf armor and sword; made from special ore, both are – reserved for dwarf only. Tradition it is, and know this you both do."

"Demands for similar," advised Aaro, "others will make. Brother is right, so break this tradition, we cannot."

"Dwarf forged and special metal both may be, but of that size, only Eric is," replied Bor.

"Wanted one more son, Mammy always did. Adopt?" suggested Aaro.

"Adopt Eric into Ironhouse? How?" asked a puzzled Bor.

"In the past, if one family is battle killed, offspring orphaned, adopted by the clan they would be. Here, orphaned is Eric."

"Orphan he may be, but dwarf he is not," replied Bor.

"Spoken only is orphan. Mentioned not is age, sex, or size; only orphan."

Fen nodded, "Mention of dwarf is absent as well."

"Dwarf will call us crazy." Bor paused, "Already they do."

Aaro smiled, "Call us crazy they may, but call Eric that, none will."

"Tradition saves tradition. Elf logic it seems, but work it will," advised Bor. "Aaro, make Mammy proud."

As the meal was about to start, Aaro walked over to Eric. Pulling up a chair, he stood on it, but looking straight into Eric's chest, he shook his head before climbing onto the table. Once there, he looked into Eric's blue eyes, "Wondered often of what color they were, I did." He then turned to face everybody, "Friends, tradition to dwarf is important, and broken, it cannot be. Dwarf sword and armor, both forged from ores special; meant for dwarf only. Today, Eric, dwarf you are, and brother as well. I, Aaro Ironhouse, call Eric brother; call Eric dwarf."

"What's going on?"

"Tradition, brother, bigger than you."

*******

After the meal, John and Logan went up to the terrace to talk, and the confusion on Logan's face was obvious, "What do you mean, Sister's gift?"

"This is the last time I'm explaining it." John shook his head; maybe I should get buzzed first. "I talked with Alron, and the Earth Mother isn't feeling well. She already spoke to him and called you Sister's gift." He then explained the second divine entity. "Alron said something about water and air, but I think she's actually oxygen, and that's why you can affect fires. Before you start again, yes, oxygen is in the water, like in a fire, and no, I don't know if you can breathe underwater. Just as Mother extends special powers to the ground we walk on, Sister does something similar to the air. Whatever happened in that forest somehow connected you and Sister, and that's why you have those strange feather tattoos."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

Before John could reply, they both saw Alron walking towards them, looking as if he was on a mission.

"Friend Logan, a favor of you is required. Tomorrow, we shall take Earth Mother to Mother, and such shall be safer should you join. We shall leave at first sunrise, so please be ready." Then he left without another word said.

Logan waited until he was out of earshot – although, with those deer ears, he was uncertain what that range was. "Why, Alron, I would be glad to help. John, what the hell?"

"Go talk to Sister."

"What can Lauren do about... Oh, funny, John! Sister, not Lauren. Very funny."

*******

Heading back to the main level, Alron knocked on Lauren's door. Even though nobody replied, knowing she was inside, he opened it.

She looked up from the bed, "What do you want?"

"We shall take Earth Mother to meet Mother tomorrow, and both desire your attendance. Such shall be your last chance to speak with her."

"What am I going to do?"

"You have two choices. Prepare yourself and be ready at the first sun rise, or I can have one stand guard and then send Gingaar in to help make such preparations. Either way, you shall attend."

"I don't like... I don't want to go."

"Should it be required, I shall bind you in ropes and drag you behind. You have many choices, so I suggest the one that provides the greatest comfort."

"Fine!"

*******

It was pitch black when John heard the gentle knock on the door. Rolling over to look at his alarm clock, the absence of the large red glowing numbers penetrating the darkness reminded him that he slept in a world where science, logic, and even time had abandoned him. Staring at the open door, a candlelit image of Alron filled the void that once secured his sleep.

"Friend John, Earth Mother desires your presence."

Uncertain if it was a command, or an un-declinable request, John rolled to the edge of the bed, and picking up his clothes, he dressed. The only thing he knew for certain, interruptions this late at night, or early in the morning, never ended well. As he approached the door curiously, rubbing the warm sleep from his eyes, he noticed the hallway was now dark and wondered if he had dreamt of the intrusion. As he peered into the hall, a candlelit silhouette of Alron was heading toward the Earth Mother's room, avoiding both his questions and annoyed looks. Arriving at her door, John saw the Earth Mother sitting up in the bed. While unsure of what it felt like when called to the principal's office, right now, his stomach was a mosh pit of butterflies; enormous, angry butterflies with metal tipped wings. Walking over to the bed, he sat on the chair, and before asking why, she began.

"Friend John, sorrowful I am to disturb your sleep, but such cannot wait. Mother this night talks to myself, and of you, she talks much. That which I shall now say shall be hard to believe, so before interrupting, listen to all." He nodded his head. "Imagine a small stream starting from a large mountain, and moving forward, such grows and joins with other waters, but always moving forward. Banks may erode and cause the course to change, but still such advances. A river is like time, as even though events may happen, such continues forward. We know events may alter the course, but we also understand the river cannot stop. Such matters not how many changes happen, as it shall find the sea: the destination final. The same is true with time. Events may cause the path to alter, but the destination, the future, still arrives."

Again, John nodded.

She then used an analogy of John and his two brothers traveling down a river in three separate boats at different times. However, each first received a dissimilar message. "Warned of great dangers, the first shall be, but the second is told the journey shall be eventful, and the last is told the trip shall be challenging." Expanding, she explained how the messages could alter any of the decisions, from refusing to go to generating feelings of overconfidence. "Should any get into the boat, the path is set, and you cannot alter the destination. Your course may change, be different than expected, but similar to the path anticipated." She paused, "Tomorrow shall arrive, and to stop such, that is not possible. Would you agree?"

"Yes," replied John, but for a bedridden old lady, she seemed to be doing more dancing with words than expected.

"Mother knows of you, and she is both sorry and glad of your arrival. Mother also knows your capacity to understand, unravel, and resolve is great. You above all others must understand that which shall happen before I return to her. In your capacity to mystery solve, the future you can alter, as proven already – plague not, but invasion. Friend John, this night Mother talks much, and of the future, she has shown myself, but not the future – all futures." Before he spoke, she held up her hand. "Of the river I spoke, do you remember such? Should the course change, the sea shall be found. The future is like that."

The thought sent a chill down John's back.

"Mother spoke many messages, messages I must deliver to all. Should one speak such to you, you may only see one future, not all. In truth, friend John, the future is unknown, and both Mother and I know such – as do you. To alter the future, to shape such with words, that is more than possible. That is Mother's plan; bend the river in her direction so other events cannot change the course. Her messages, should all happen as expected, true they are. Should the course alter, half-true instead they shall be. Should catastrophic events transpire against your path, then Mother's words are lies. Yet, a fourth possibility exists. Should great events transpire, but the words from Mother alter the route, then your destination shall not change. Mother seeks to shape the future with words. Do you understand?"

While he may have considered the elf culture to be primitive, the Earth Mother's words changed everything. John had tutored many students who never realized how well they understood the material. As a result, he had to build up their confidence, ensuring they passed the tests. There were also students who he disliked, and not only did he take the lessons to the extreme, but he also quizzed them harder to undermine their certainty. While still passing, they failed to earn the grade deserved: nerd revenge. History was rife with people who were uncertain of what would happen, but filled with conviction, they embraced the destination. It made perfect sense, being even logical. The messages from the Earth Mother would be and would not be the truth. If all events happened as Mother thought, then her messages were correct. It was like telling somebody the following; by crossing the finish line first, you win the race. It was like wrapping an untruth around a truth, but until the race is over, you lack the knowledge if the original statement or the inverse is true. Other variables also influenced the results, but one statement, in the beginning, could set the initial momentum. After all, it is harder to increase somebody's confidence, but easier to tear it down. Words can shape the future. John noticed the Earth Mother staring at him, "I understand."

"Such pleases myself, friend John. Now, Mother sent you two messages; one may be true, but both may not be. As I said, unknown is the future. Mother wishes to tell you that your knowledge is great. The lands and people you shall transform, as gifts great you shall render to change forever that which Mother loves, and she does both bless and curse you for such. That one I understand, but her second message, I do not. The second is this: that which you want the most, that which you do not think possible, such is. Mayhap vague, but I am unsure of who Mother tries to protect: you or her."

For a brief second, John recalled his parents and home. Having pushed those thoughts and memories to the back of his mind, he had locked them away, surrendering to this world. When the Earth Mother spoke those words, the lock shattered, allowing the memory vault to crack open. All of those images and memories spilled out in an effort to crawl forward, but giving his head a shake, he forced them back inside, and slamming the imaginary door shut, he locked away the memories that brought so much joy; so much pain.

"Friend John, Mother has one more message, though peculiar. A lady waits for your embrace."

"What? That's a—"

"Her name is strange, and perchance I may misspeak such, but Mother calls her Science."

John's jaw went slack. He was undecided if this was a trick to make him believe in Mother, so in turn, he made Lauren believe, or was it possible this world was not void of science after all?

When the Earth Mother clapped her hands, Alron, still holding a candle, opened the door. John had a million questions, but before realizing it, he was standing in front of his bedroom door, and the elf was gone.

### Chapter 20

Waiting in the stables, Mirtza had checked the wagon, making sure all the chests were in working order. In one stall, he had brought forth the eight-legged horses, hoping the boards hid their magical legacy. Strategically placing the wagon between the stall and the stable door, he hoped the Earth Mother could not see the impure magical steeds, which may have caused her distress. By the same means, having black-clad soldiers surprise him in a wagon pulled by the slow-moving oxen caused him a greater amount of anguish. Therefore, he hoped Alron agreed with his livestock choice. After waiting for an hour, he saw the first elves enter, placing the food baskets in the wagon, before saddling their stags. As they were quiet, he thought it best to leave them to their own thoughts. The argument between Lauren and Logan announced their presence long before entering, and over the next thirty minutes, the rest wandered in: the Ironhouse clan and the remaining bus mates. As the first sun announced the day, the far door opened. Clutching an Iron Wood staff, the Earth Mother shuffled towards the wagon. With Gingaar by her side, Alron and Panry followed solemnly behind. Passing by each of the dwarves, they bowed, and the rest did the same, knowing it was a sign of respect, including Lauren who realized this was not the place for a public spectacle. The night before, Alron had brought down cushions and blankets, which Mirtza had already placed in the wagon, and in quiet reverence, she made her way to it, sitting down on the back tailgate.

The first to approach was the Master Weapon Smith, and he talked with her for several minutes before kissing her hand. Then, one by one, his sons went over to say their last words. Fodu presented her with a brooch, featuring an image of an Iron Wood tree, which she humbly accepted with a smile. However, when Gor presented a large silver flask, it prompted an even bigger grin.

Without realizing it, John walked over, and looking into her eyes, he began whimpering.

"Friend John. Sorrowful this is not, as I go to be with Mother, and long have I waited for such. As my journey ends, yours shall begin. Should your friends ask you to make sense of my words, be careful, as rivers flow through your hands, so be cautious of any changes made. I think your friends shall lean on you much, and as such, you shall need strength." She then pushed her Iron Wood staff, two-inches thick, straight, and solid into John's hands. "Such shall aid you, friend John, as your mind is strong, but your body is not."

However, her words from last night were like a ball bearing, and his brain was like one of his father's antique pinball machines in the basement. Inside his head, the words were still active; bouncing off the bumpers, causing lights to flash, making the buzzers buzz, but the damned ball would not stay still long enough for him to understand what was happening.

Reaching out, she pulled him in close and kissed his forehead, "Mother does bless you."

Heading to the far side of the stables, John, carrying the heavy Iron Wood staff, fought to hold back tears. Recalling the words from the night before, they screamed from the imaginary pinball speakers inside his head; that which you want the most, that which you do not think possible, such is.

Eric approached, dressed in the dwarf armor, "I'm so—"

"Friend Eric, you are strong. The Champion you now are, and you shall help save Mother's children." Eric, too choked up to say anything, wiped away the forming tears. Reaching out, she pulled him in close to whisper into his ear. When done, she also kissed his forehead, "Mother does bless you."

Zack also walked over, thinking if there was a Mother, he had no interest in pissing her off, as he had already pissed off enough in his short life. "Dudette, Earth Mother, we didn't spend much time together, but it was a pleasure to meet you," but his face conveyed no emotions. After pulling him to her, whispering something in his ear, she kissed his forehead, "Mother does bless you." Tear ducts, long ago drained and thought unable to function, transformed, and bringing his hands up, he tried to hide them as he walked over to Eric and John.

The last was Ryan, who presented her with a bouquet of field flowers. Once again, after pulling him close, she whispered into his ear, and when done, she kissed her last forehead before giving the final blessing.

As Ryan joined the others, Alron walked to the back of the wagon, "Friends, I thank all. Your heartfelt emotions and support, greatly appreciated is such. I wish we could stay longer, but Mother calls." Whistling, the elves took to their stags, and when Mirtza backed the team of horses out of the stall, Logan took to his pony. Even though Lauren and Gingaar hopped into the back, only Gingaar saw to the Earth Mother's comforts. After closing the tailgate, Alron mounted his stag, and the Dawnfalcons galloped their stags into the new day with the procession following. Those remaining watched until they were unable to see the small convoy

*******

It was late when John wandered out onto the terrace. The last sun, which was low in the sky, had created a silhouetted mountain scape that wallpapered the view this night. Sitting at the large table, he saw Zack, and in front of him, a pitcher of ale with several mugs – his unique, non-verbal way of conveying a request for company.

Accepting the invitation, John poured himself a drink, "Strange day today."

"What is the truth, John? Does it truly exist, or is everything a lie? Is that the only truth?"

"I don't understand the question?"

"Does truth expire? When I sat down, the pitcher was full. True. Several minutes later, the pitcher isn't full, so the previous statement about the contents is now a lie. What is truth? How long does it last? My mother said she would love me forever, and I thought that was the truth, but it wasn't."

"What's bothering you?"

"I always thought truth was like water. It seems real, and even though you can touch it, if you try to hold it, it runs through your hands, as if it was never there." Then he sat there looking at the painted sky, remaining silent like the mountains, but after several minutes, he spoke again. "The Earth Mother, she told me something this morning and said something to you. Was it true?"

"What did she tell you?"

"The contents of her statement aren't in question. Were her words truthful or a lie? The words she spoke this morning, were they true? I need to know."

Though Zack wasn't facing him, John saw him wipe away a single tear. Recalling the words spoken by the Earth Mother, she had called him weak and smart, reinforcing the warning from the night before; he could change the future with words. Smart old bird. "Zack, this is the honest truth. The words she spoke this morning, I know them all to be true." Then John drained the last of his mug, headed to his room, but the words from the night before, those would haunt his dreams for a long time.

*******

Sitting at the back of the wagon, Lauren had been watching the Earth Mother for several hours, but when the ancient looking elf tapped the blankets, she reluctantly approached. Reaching up, she caressed Lauren's cheek, "Earth Daughter, please, cry not, as I go to be with Mother, and long have I waited for such. Earth Daughter, four days only we have to talk, and when I am with Mother, then you can mourn or celebrate as you see fit."

Lauren wiped away her tears, "I don't know where to start or what to say."

"For now, let Earth Mother talk: of my childhood and that which I have seen and done, so you can listen." For the rest of the day, she talked about her youth, the training, the Earth Mothers before, and much more. Occasionally, she fell asleep, but upon awakening, restarted exactly where she left off.

With the Dawnfalcons leading, the escort made good time, and Panry followed as the rear guard. When the Earth Mother nodded off, Mirtza made the horses go faster, but upon hearing her talk again, he slowed down, and while aware of this, Alron was also pleased. When Mirtza inquired about stopping, Alron shook his head, so he passed a platinum ring to Lauren, who retrieved the food required from the chests.

Shortly after the second sun had set, they found the campsite the Dawnfalcons had prepared. When the wagon stopped, Mirtza unloaded the chests, and after Logan gathered the firewood, he extended his arms, bringing fire to the pile of sticks.

Mirtza dropped the empty chest, "How did you do that?"

"Well, I guess it has something to do with Sister." Logan rolled his shirtsleeves back, displaying the feather tattoos, "See, Sister's marks, or so I'm told."

Mirtza looked at Lauren, "Earth Daughter did this to you?"

"No, not my sister: Sister."

"Not Lauren, a different sister? Who's sister?"

"Mother's."

"Your mother has a sister?"

"Not my mother: Mother." and Logan picked up a handful of dirt, "You know, the one who's guiding Lauren."

"Who is Sister?"

"No idea, and I never met her. John thinks it has something to do with Lauren and me being twins."

"What are twins?"

Logan shook his head, "Let's wait until we get back, as I'm sure Zack can explain it better."

Mirtza, still amazed and confused, picked up the empty chest. As Gingaar and Lauren stayed with the Earth Mother, trying to comfort her, Panry and Alron kept their distance, watching as the Impure Trickster kept pulling items from the empty chests. Once the meal was done, a few of the elves found spots to sleep, and others manned their guard assignments. With the Earth Mother sleeping in the back of the wagon, after Mirtza deployed the magic bats, he repacked the empty chests.

Alron was sitting beside the fire when Lauren joined him, "This is all so strange. Where are we taking the Earth Mother? Is there a special graveyard where Earth Mothers are buried?"

"Graveyard?"

"A place where... they bury those who have passed: died?"

"No field of graves waits for Earth Mother. We shall take her to her tree, and she shall reunite with Mother."

"What do you mean a tree? You mean a wooden box, right?"

"Not so." Alron turned and pointed to a large tree, "We take her to such."

Lauren looked at it, at Alron, back to the tree, and then to Alron again. "What do you mean?"

"Mother waits to embrace Earth Mother." He reached down, picking up a handful of dirt. "This is Mother. When Earth Mother and tree are one, she shall become part of Mother."

"What happens to the tree? Do you burn it?"

"No. Mother embraces her, as such has happened for thousands of years."

Lauren, figuring something was lost in translation, switched the topics. "I had a brief talk with her the other day. She wants me to guide you to find the people so that Eric can raise an army. Now that we understand what's happening, I guess it makes sense. If I'm the only one who can hear her, then all I have to do is tell you what she said to me. I don't know why, but I have nowhere else to go, and if she believes in me, if the people need me, if it stops innocent families from dying, then I should do it."

From his talks with the Earth Mother, Alron understood the Earth Daughter would play a different and more significant role. One based on action, like when she led them to the mass grave with the feeding vultures: not one where she would sit in the background, advising like other Earth Mothers, which he preferred. Thus, he was undecided on how to interpret the two different messages.

"Alron, are you listening?"

"Earth Daughter, the camp I need to secure, so we shall talk tomorrow."

Shrugging her shoulders, Lauren filled her mug, and sitting back, she watched the intense colors dance across the night sky, as camp security was not her concern. All she had to do was pass on Mothers instructions. Maybe being an Earth Daughter won't be that bad.

*******

Mirtza rattling the pots woke the camp. Still confused by the whole tree concept, Lauren was unsure of what was happening. Alron lacked motivation to start moving this morning, as he was sitting with the Earth Mother in the back of the wagon, and when Lauren approached, Panry intercepted her. When they started traveling, Gingaar moved to the front bench to talk with Mirtza, and Lauren had a hunch something was about to happen.

"Earth Daughter, Alron talks much this morning, and perchance, I may have misspoken. Mother Chosen you are, and your purpose is not guide, but lead."

"Pardon?"

"Mother wants you to lead, find, and save her children. Only to one that Mother can speak with, would she bequest such. Your task is great, and that is why Mother chose you and gifted the staff. You shall push back the shadows to expose the truth, doing that which you must do to save her children."

"You want me to raise an army and lead them into battle? What the..."

"Mother wants you to act, to save her children. How? Such matters she shall let you decide, but Mother shall guide and help. Only to Earth Daughter, Mother Chosen, shall the children listen and follow. Mother saw such when you returned with answers. Earth Daughter takes action, and action is that which Mother needs. Shadows enough we have, but you shall push them back, push them back with action."

Remembering when John had spotted the circling vultures, she recalled forcing her pony into the field first. Crap, "When you say lead, what do you mean?"

"Where you go, others shall follow. When you speak, others shall listen. When you command, others shall act."

"Who are these others?"

"All you shall find, because your voice and words they shall follow. As such, my elf friends and Ironhouse shall also follow. Then others shall believe in you, join, and follow. When others see you, they shall see Mother, but follow you."

Lauren could not believe the words. Guide was one thing, just point. Lead, that's something else. Going to the back of the wagon, she stepped off and called to Logan, who circled the pony around.

"What's up?"

"The Earth Mother wants to talk with you."

Dismounting, he handed her the reins, and climbing into the saddle, before Logan understood what had happened, she was trotting past.

Having witnessed the strange events transpire, Alron was undecided on what was happening, but seeing Lauren ride ahead, he hastily made the stag bolt after her.

"Get away from me!"

"Earth Daughter?"

"Lead: is she joking? How long was she an Earth Daughter when Mother asked her to do something like this, to incite the people and raise an army? How long?"

"Earth Mother has never accomplished such a task as you describe. Not any Earth Mother or Earth Daughter has."

"I have been one for what, a month? Your lands are a mess, invaded, and everybody has fled. Now you want me to find them and tell them everything will be all right. Should I tell them that most will DIE? Are you all freaking crazy?"

"Of such matters, let us return and speak with Earth Mother."

"She wants me to send innocent people to their deaths? How can somebody even ask that? Do I look like I have fought a war? Do I look like a general capable of defeating another army?"

"Please, calm down, Earth Daughter."

"No! If you wanted me to receive Mother's messages and forward them; that would be one thing. However, if you expect me to look down on a crowd of fathers, sons, and brothers, ordering them into battle, and command them to die, that I cannot and will not do. I know nothing of battles, and the lack of that knowledge will mean even more deaths. You want to saddle me with that burden, stuff those images into my pillow every night, and hope they don't invade my dreams? Pick somebody else. I will not kill innocent people for your Mother."

"Please, calm down, Earth Daughter."

"That's why she brought me here, as none of the other Mothers or Daughters would do it. They said find somebody else. When none would, they grabbed someone from somewhere else. You're special, you're great, and by the way, kill half of the people that believe. Alron, do you have any idea how many people die in a war? Thousands, hundreds of thousands."

"Earth Daughter,—"

"Mother didn't bring me here to help. She brought me here to be a bride, and she wants me to share a bed with death."

"Earth Daughter, death already stalks the lands."

"Where I come from, we've had lots of wars. You didn't see us pull somebody from your world to fight our battles, did you?"

Alron was Earth Guard; protect and serve was his oath, but nowhere did it mention verbal abuse. Grabbing the pony's reigns, he pulled it to the side of the path where he had spotted a deadfall. After tying it to a tree, he lifted Lauren off and set her down on the makeshift seat. Pulling out his flask, he took a long hard drink before offering it to her. Recalling Zack's new ability to generate logic, she also took a sip.

"First, a great privilege is such. Second, before this trip ends, you shall understand Mother and believe as I do." Taking another pull from the flask, Alron hoped it also held answers, "Now, as for lead, you have many options to choose. Should an army be required, you can also find those who have such abilities to plan and lead battles. Mother would not expect you to walk into such, though such would not surprise myself should you do so. Perchance, you shall raise a larger army, and the invaders shall surrender." Pulling out a deck of cards, he fanned them out, "The future is like these, as many possibilities I hold, but only one shall happen. Until you pull one out, we do not know that which opposes us. Should you fret about all, you are right, as we shall lose, but only one shall we have to worry about. Now pull one from my deck."

Understanding she was only considering the worst-case scenario, Lauren realized she could push the war onto Eric and the sword. Other things may also happen, but the possibility of bad things occurring seemed greater than good things materializing, so she reached for the cards.

Unconcerned about the card selected, Alron knew it meant nothing, as he only needed to demonstrate his point. They used the cards to train new recruits on how to strategize with limited options, and it was a game as old as the Earth Guards. Providing a chance to test them, senior members could see how new recruits reacted, plan, and strategize, especially when dealt with a less than favorable hand. The cards represented threats, offenses, defenses, and more, and as a winning hand could not be dealt, it was how you played the cards that decided who won or lost.

Pulling out a card, Lauren held it up. While not reacting on the outside, it surprised him to see the Death Card, one of the most powerful cards in the deck, which represented a guaranteed victory – in most cases. He then instructed her to pull out a second. He would lie, saying the stronger card represented her, and the weaker one represented the black-clad forces.

Repeating her actions, she held up the second. It was the Fool, the only true wild card in the deck. Normally removed from most matches, it was reserved for advanced games only, and he had forgotten it was in the deck. It could change the results of the last card played, taking a lifetime to remember all the rules for this card alone, and it was the only card able to nullify the Death card. If both were played at the same time, the match ended in a draw. To watch Lauren pull out the two most powerful and feared cards, Alron felt like it was a message, but he was unclear what it was trying to say.

"Your first card is the black-clad," he said calmly, "and weaker than the second. You would win." Such is true, "In my hands, I hold many other possibilities, but until we find an opponent, we do not know how you need to act."

Alron handed her the flask, to celebrate the victory, hoping the silver wrapped contents calmed her down. After she had drained it, Alron yearned to know if Panry's flask was still full. Lauren, still on edge, thought she may have overreacted, and climbing onto the pony, she headed back to the wagon.

Alron took a minute to look at the two cards. He would have felt better if he had said, the first was your opponent, and the second is you, but still, he wondered. While a few used the deck to foretell the future, it was usually after they had emptied the silver flasks, but nobody ever considered it serious. Holding up the remaining cards, he pulled out one and looked at it: the Grave card, which symbolized a single death. When dealt to you, there was one primary hope: the Chaos Card, which re-shuffled all the cards in play before being re-dealt. In that process, you hoped the Grave Card ended up in your opponent's hand, not back in yours. When played, it symbolized your own death, not your opponents. Its purpose was to test the new Earth Guards, seeing how they strategized, as they attempted to both control the game and figure out an option. Each card had at least one to counter it, but this one was different. If it was in play, the key was making your hand last long enough to find the Chaos Card. The Grave Card was always the last card played, and only when there were no other options. In addition, the rules stipulated when finishing a game, if any held the Grave card, they had to play it, as it was possible to win the match – but still lose with this card. Re-boxing the deck, Alron tucked them into a pocket. He would have liked to ask the Earth Mother if it meant anything, but she was too close to her tree, and he had no desire to trouble her. Death, Fool, Grave; good or bad omens? Putting away the cards, Alron went in search of Panry's flask.

### Chapter 21

After stopping for lunch, Logan reclaimed his pony, meaning Lauren had to ride in the wagon. This time, instead of climbing into the back, she sat beside Mirtza. They rode in silence for twenty minutes, and when unable to bare her quiet presence, he spoke, "Does something trouble Earth Daughter?"

"Everything, and in fact, there's nothing that doesn't bother me. Strangely, that does not bother anybody else."

"What is your biggest concern?"

"They want me to lead. I don't know where we're going, or how we will get there. Even stranger, the Earth Mother said they, whoever they are, will trust me. How can they? Mother could have sneezed when she opened the door, missed the person she wanted, and instead ended up with me. How can I lead them?"

"That reminds me of a story. When I was younger, I found six scared children stranded in a field. All of a sudden, the forces in the lands tasked me with leading them to safety. While a few trusted me, others did not, but in the end, it seemed to work out."

Lauren rolled her eyes, "I don't think this is the same thing."

"When I found you six, I was worried, as I lacked any ideas on what was happening. I knew something was going on in the Newlands, enough that it was unsafe. You even came around to trusting me a little, and the same will happen with others. Some might hesitate, and some might resist, but others will follow. They will follow because you lead, and they will want somebody to help show them the path. From there, you take it one day at a time until you find others who will help, like what happened to us."

"It's that simple. Just start walking and everybody will follow?"

"Well, I had to be convincing, but in your hearts, you all knew you had to let me help. The same will happen with others, and you forget one thing: Mother."

Lauren shook her head, "Having seen and heard the things I have done, part of me wants to believe that. I clutch this odd piece of wood like it's a security blanket, and I don't even realize I have it half of the time. Mirtza, to be honest, this whole Mother thing still has me confused. She could have made so many better choices."

"To begin with, it is not you alone that she has involved. I had a talk with your friend Zack, an interesting fellow. Most days I cannot get him to speak, but some days, it comes out like water from a broken dam, just cannot stop him."

"Was he drinking beer?"

"Well, to be honest, I believe his body will reject anything else."

"What did he say?"

"I do not recall his exact words or his train of thought, or how it was derailed, as he said, but he believes Mother involved me long before you arrived. He believes I became lost because of her, to make sure I arrived at the same time you six did. He explained that it was only with her guidance that I wandered so far and missed an invading army every day, yet I was within a day's ride of your arrival, but his telling of it is much more colorful. You might be leading, Lauren, I mean, Earth Daughter, but I think Mother controls your compass."

"John had a similar thought. If I had time to warm up to the idea... if I understood anything... I was here two weeks, and they made me an Earth Daughter. Leap forward two more, since you're still here, can you find the people. Then lead them into the unknown? How do you wrap your head around something like that?"

"Earth Daughter, I remember that night back in the covered forest when I headed out to look for answers. I told you everything happens for a reason: be it fate, destiny, or something else. In your case, that something else might be Mother. Sure, you have no idea on what is happening or where you will go. The same was true when I found you six. Like you, I felt those powers could have made a better choice, but they have reasons for the selections they make, reasons they will never tell you. I accepted the burden, though I cannot find a better word to this day. My best advice to you is to accept it, do not try to fight or understand it, and instead, embrace it. These lands differ from the ones you originate from, so if you try to apply your reasoning and emotions to this foreign place, it will only create friction. It took a few days, but you trusted me, and now you need to extend the same."

Laurens response was simple, "I need to think right now."

Mirtza remembered the words he had spoken so often. Quiet for so long, when he had somebody to talk to, he had too much to worry about. So it is quiet again. Mother, are you trying to punish me?

Later that night, Lauren climbed into the back of the wagon, "Well, Earth Mother, it seems everybody agrees that I should lead. Find the people, tell them the truth, and maybe even raise an army. Do you have words that can help me?"

The Earth Mother's voice was tired, "It warms my heart to hear such. You have brought us the answers we waited for. Now, the truth hidden in the darkness, you shall release, and her children you shall save." The Earth Mother smiled, "My duty is now complete."

Before Lauren continued the conversation, the Earth Mother fell asleep, which she could not believe. It was not as if she was expecting a playbook or an instruction manual, but surely, advice, guidance, or words of wisdom seemed reasonable. Dumbfounded, grabbing a bedroll, she headed to the edge of the camp. I would even settle for a job description, something, anything.

*******

It was late in the morning when Lauren woke, and the Earth Mother and Alron were talking again, with Panry running interference. It only fueled her building resentment: the Earth Mother can't advise me, but she can advise Alron. Mirtza brought breakfast and tea over to Lauren, advising they had made good time, so Alron wanted to rest the stags for a while longer. Sure, they can advise Mirtza, but not Lauren. Watching the Earth Mother and Alron, she hoped an expression from either would provide a hint about their discussion.

The Earth Mother let out a sigh, "Alron, Earth Daughter embraces Mother's quest with words, but such is absent in her heart."

"Please explain more."

"First, when I am with Mother, your Earth Guard shall protect Earth Daughter. Protect and serve her you shall."

"As you command."

"Alron, greatest of Earth Guards, vast challenges shall wait for you on your travels. Mother tried to show myself your path, but such is dark, as not even she knows the dangers you shall face. Alron, great may not be enough."

"I am Earth Guard. Protect and serve Earth Daughter we shall."

"One special command I have, but not until I am with my tree can you speak such to Earth Daughter. I forbid Earth Daughter to command Earth Guard. Her fire burns bright, yet her gift has not bloomed fully so remains hidden. Her life or Earth Guard, to safety she would order you. Advise, guide, serve; you can act as you need, however, above all else, you shall protect this force we call Lauren, Earth Daughter, Mother Chosen."

"We shall not follow commands to safety."

"Lauren says she shall lead. Her words I hear, but passion absent they are. In her heart, Lauren is Earth Daughter. In her head, Earth Daughter is Lauren, and they share conflict, as she both pulls herself to the path and pushes back at the same time. Here a spark burns, a spark that shall light a fire of truth to push back the darkness. You may call her Earth Daughter, and her friends may call her Lauren, but Mother calls her Hope. Mother rides on Lauren's shoulders, and she rides on yours, so the weight on you shall be great. Protect and serve shall not be enough, as you shall have to mentor her. Mistakes Earth Daughter shall make, but be respectful, as her confidence is like a fire you must stoke, not put out. She shall test you, but meet her challenges with civility. Easily could you crush her fragile spirit, and permit such, I shall not. Do you understand?"

As an Earth Guard, Alron had received many peculiar commands in his long service, but attempting to process the words spoken, he could not find a proper response.

"Alron, a fourth sun burns amongst us, named Lauren. Should this sun set, endless night shall embrace all. Never again shall Mother's children know warmth, and darkness shall engulf all, as a great death shall embrace these lands. Is such understood?"

There was no elf word for an indescribable-pressure-that-is-about-to-crush-you, so he could not answer, but there was no need, as his ashen face spoke the words he could not.

"Alron, my mind goes to meet Mother before my body. Mother says your service has been great. Both sad and fortunate she is that you shall protect Earth Daughter, and greatest of Earth Guard she names you. Not any other would she wish the misfortune of protecting Earth Daughter, as fail they would on your challenges ahead. Your name shall be written in history. Earth Guards not born for one-thousand years: all shall know and try to be like you. All shall try, but few your standards they shall meet, but Alron, fail and your name and Mother's both shall be forgotten. I grow tired, so I shall now sleep." With that, the Earth Mother rolled onto her side, closing her eyes to hold back the tears.

Gently getting out of the wagon, Alron headed to the forest to deliberate on all.

An hour later, the wagon was traveling down the road. Logan was sitting beside Mirtza, and Lauren was on his pony, riding beside Alron. "You don't look well. Is everything okay? Is the Earth Mother all right?"

"Earth Daughter, I am fine. Sad I am for my trip, but that is all. Years back many, when Mother first appeared, not only did she seek those with the gift, but she also asked others to protect her chosen, called Earth Guard. An Earth Guard is either one or a group of six that protects. Our purpose is simple; protect and serve those who have the gift from Mother. Earth Mother commands, when to her tree she has gone, we shall be your Earth Guard, and we shall protect and serve you. Where you go, Earth Guard shall ensure your path is safe."

"I don't understand. What do you mean?"

"Such an understanding is not required. Your life, your safety, Earth Guard shall protect such."

"I don't like that. No, I really don't like that. I release you from whatever sick bond or servitude this is."

"Earth Guard and honor are the same. While many seek such, few are chosen, and great is the honor of the Earth Guard. Earth Daughter, decline you cannot, and you shall never travel alone. Where you lead, Earth Guard shall make sure your path is safe. Every Earth Daughter and Earth Mother has an Earth Guard, except you. You shall have my Earth Guard when Earth Mother rejoins with Mother."

"So, once again, I don't have a choice. Somebody else simply states, this is the way it will be, and Lauren has to accept it."

Alron was unfamiliar with sarcasm, "Such is correct, as I worried you would not understand, so I am glad you see the wisdom of the Earth Guard."

"Crap on a stick." Rolling her eyes, Lauren dug her heels into the pony, racing ahead of Alron. Crazy freaking world...

*******

Arriving at the campsite selected by the Dawnfalcons, Mirtza pulled the wagon into the secluded opening, and Alron asked him to deploy the magic guard bats immediately. Once again, after Logan gathered wood, he started the fire, wondering if wood was even necessary. As Mirtza unpacked the food, Alron brought over the baskets provided by Gor, asking him to prepare those instead, as he advised they were the Earth Mother's favorites.

When done, Mirtza handed out mugs of hot bean juice and tea, but the Earth Mother declined both. Instead, pulling out the flask from Gor, she cracked the seal and took a large sip. "Mother grows good stuff, but only dwarf ferments her good into greatness." This started a night where the Earth Mother was the center of attention, telling stories of her youth, her adventures, making jokes, smiling, and laughing all night.

The fire was burning out when Gingaar helped the Earth Mother back into the wagon, and the elves, knowing this was her last night, were even more reserved than normal.

Lauren joined Logan by the fire. "So, brother, what're you thinking about?"

"It seems I'm Sister gifted... blessed... cursed... or something."

Lauren mimicked an elfin voice, "Of riddles, what are these you speak?"

"Funny. When we were in that strange forest, I went looking for you. I found this weird park bench area and fell asleep on one. When I woke, I had these." Rolling up his sleeves, he exposed the feather tattoos.

"Mom will kill you."

"It gets better."

Rubbing the feathers, Lauren saw the segments break apart and marry back together. "Well, those are different."

"It gets weirder. You remember that cold water when you were bathing Eric: me. The street lights when those guys tried to attack us: me. The birds: me. John asked Alron about it, and it seems the Earth Mother said I'm Sister's gift. Crazy world."

"Tell me about this Sister."

"You first, tell me about Mother."

"You don't remember her?"

"Not our mother, the Mother here!"

Lauren smiled, "I know. Well, I guess we should include Eric in this conversation, as he's in the dark like the both of us."

"Also, we need to consider Ryan."

"Why?"

"Do you realize how heavy that table was he kicked? And he crushed two guys. That's as freaky as anything you or I have done."

"Well, we should also include Zack," began Lauren. "Talking to him is unnerving. Out of this black abyss comes logic, feeling, and caring. It's still wrapped in Zack, but some of the stuff he has said, well, it makes me wonder."

"Strange world."

"What about John? Notice anything odd about him?"

"Poor bastard. He gets sucked into this world, and they still pick screwed up Zack over him. If he was the last person on earth, they would still overlook him for the Olympics. The poor guy isn't getting any love from anybody. I understand not picking him if this was a dodgeball competition, but I would think this world would want those kind of smarts on their side. This is one crazy world. They pick you to lead, and Zack makes sense."

*******

The progress of the trip so far had pleased Alron. Knowing the dangers were multiplying, he desperately wanted to subtract his group from the equation. It was the fourth day, and the Earth Mother had slept the entire morning, as only her tree waited. It was late in the afternoon when they stopped to meet up with the Dawnfalcons. When Panry joined them, they turned north onto a wide game trail, and the forest seemed to change, becoming peaceful. With a sense of serenity floating on the breeze, the anxiety that had traveled with them for the last few days fled, replaced by a sense of relief. As Alron took the lead, the pace slowed, and the farther they traveled into the forest, the less labored the Earth Mother's breathing became.

When Mirtza saw Alron kneeling before a huge Iron Wood tree, which had a base of ten-feet or more towering so far up its height was unknown, he stopped the wagon. Examining it, Mirtza realized it was lifeless, and while leaves still clung to the dead branches, they were a dull shade of green. As well, many of the branches were broken, and huge slabs of bark had fallen off, revealing the weather-worn wood, which looked like bones exposed in a deep cut. Seeing a large cavity in the tree, similar to the one where he had found Lauren, he wondered what could make such a hole. However, realizing they had reached the endpoint, he maneuvered the wagon backwards, so the Earth Mother would have the shortest walk possible. Looking at the magnificent image coming into sight, she smiled

Gingaar began whimpering, knowing their time together was over, and that her gift, still so timid, had refused to bloom. Feeling as if she had let her family down, she cried twice; once for the loss of her great mother, and once for the shame brought to her family.

Looking at the tree, Lauren remembered the dreams, the peace, and the love.

Through tears, they both helped the Earth Mother to move to the back of the wagon. As she sat on the tailgate, smiling and staring at the huge tree, nobody moved, worrying it would shatter the surrounding serenity.

After thirty minutes, she told Lauren to join her brother and Mirtza. With Gingaar by her side, bending forward, she whispered into her ear for several minutes, and then kissed her forehead before blessing her. One by one, she called to the other elves. She was the eldest of the first line of Earth Mothers, revered above all others. Her Earth Guard was the best of the best, hand selected by Alron, and respected above all others. Having been with her for a long time, they shared deep bonds. Approaching individually, Cethail Highbreeze, Erust Huntinghawk, Babartin and Careel Dawnfalcon knelt and kissed her hand. As each stood, she embraced and whispered something to them. After kissing their foreheads, she blessed each. Four of the toughest elves in all the lands left her side, wiping tears away. The loss in their lives was equal to the hole in the massive tree, the Earth Mothers final destination, and each thought the void in their lives would remain forever empty. Holding out her hands, she called for Panry Moonshadow, but being reluctant to embrace her, Alron pushed him forward.

Only two people knew Panry: Alron and the Earth Mother. He lived to serve, as it was all that his family knew, which went back ten generations to his great father who was the first Earth Guard, but without the Earth Mother, his life lacked real purpose. As she hugged him, he could no longer hold the tears back. Pulling him close, she whispered and blessed him, kissed his forehead, and thanked one of her oldest friends. Panry, overcome with emotions, refused to rejoin the rest of the Earth Guards, and instead, he walked to the other side of the massive tree to regain his composure. Alron expected to hear his name next, but instead, she called to another.

Surprised, Mirtza walked over to greet her. She pulled him in close, repeating her previous actions, and the results were the same: he was crying after the Earth Mother had whispered to him.

"Alron, what's happening?" asked Lauren.

"I believe Mother sent each a special message."

After Mirtza wandered away, wiping away tears, the Earth Mother called to Logan.

Holding out her hands, she pulled him in close and whispered. "Your sister, your hands shall save her, and she shall save these lands and the children. Logan, great perils wait on the path, too great for Earth Guard alone. That is why Sister embraced you. Logan, please fail us not. Should you, all is lost, but your burden is the greatest I see. Logan, I know you shall not fail."

Looking at his hands, which the Earth Mother held, he thought of Lauren in them.

"Logan, Sister Chosen, speak those words. Promise myself that your sister, Lauren, Earth Daughter, you shall save. Your words you must speak, else to my tree I cannot go. Great danger seeks your sister, but you shall save her. Your burden is great, embrace this, and rise to such. Say these words, else I have failed Mother. Logan, please, answer my request."

"Lauren will be safe," he whispered.

"Words alone I do not seek, as you must believe them and hold them close to your heart. Your sister, Lauren, above all else, nothing else matters. She shall save Mother's children, but your sister, you shall save first. Make my belief real, like your feather tattoos from Sister."

"Nobody will hurt my sister. I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe." What it lacked in volume, it resonated in conviction.

The Earth Mother smiled, "Friend Logan, brother of Earth Daughter, Sister Chosen. I believe you. When the time is right, Mother shall reward all for your sacrifices." She then repeated the same blessing bestowed to the others.

As he walked away, the words Logan had spoken rattled around in his head, and tears of confusion streamed down his face.

The Earth Mother then called out for the next.

This will not be good.

Reaching out as she approached, the Earth Mother hugged her. "Lauren, Earth Daughter. Mother bestows special messages for all, but for you, not any. Already you have heard her voice, though realize such you may not. Mother, for you, words she has none, but instead, an image of Lauren she holds close to her heart. You shall be her light to guide us from the darkness. While there are no words for you, more than words she has, as my Earth Guard now serves you. Your friends, a great boon to all, shall also help. Ironhouse, the dwarven strength, and determination shall be with you. Your burden is great, but Lauren, Earth Daughter, believe this, you are great. Should that not be true, chosen you would never have been. Many shall help with your burden, and Mother needs you. Do you believe in Lauren? Does Lauren understand the need? Does Lauren believe she is chosen?"

She wanted to scream to the skies, exclaiming she understood nothing, and instead, needed to hear answers.

Holding back her tears, the Earth Mother squeezed Lauren's hands. "Earth Daughter, please do not let such be that I have to tell Mother all is lost; that Lauren has been chosen wrong. To Mother, such words I do not wish to speak. Lauren, do you believe you are chosen; that you are the light of truth that shall save her children. I believe in Lauren, as does Mother. Your friends, Earth Guard, and Ironhouse all believe in Lauren. Does Lauren believe in Lauren?"

She stared at the Earth Mother. How the hell do you answer that?

No longer able to hold back the tears, the Earth Mother continued, "Lauren, your expression causes my concern to grow. In you, your spark burns bright, and your gift is great. Not only shall Mother help but also your friends, new and old. Lauren, speak words of conviction to myself. Do you embrace this path; embrace her children?"

In her mind, Lauren screamed her response to the Earth Mother: from high school student one day, and thirty days later, the weight of the world on my shoulders. I don't want this; nobody would! Lauren looked deep into the Earth Mother's eyes, seeing her reflected frustration. She had an answer; it was the wrong answer. WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!

The Earth Mother began whimpering. "Earth Daughter, friend Lauren. Of you, we have asked too much, so I apologize. Alron, escort her to safety, though not any know where such would be. To my tree, provide help, as to Mother, the bad news I shall now deliver."

Perhaps something snapped or fell into place. Possibly, Mother gave her a shove, or Lauren accepted the destined fate, but her words were spoken with anger. "Damn it! I'll do it! I don't understand what it is. I don't know what it is I have to do, but I'll freaking do it!" Before the Earth Mother said anything, Lauren turned and walked to the front of the wagon. Crazy freaking world. What have I gotten myself into?

The Earth Mother then held her hands out to Alron Icefeather. Having been in her Earth guard for one-hundred years, their shared history was great. "Friend Alron, sorry I am to saddle you with such burdens. Earth Daughter Lauren, on the fence she wavers. Her gift is strong, but so is her doubt, and both forces battle each other. Your challenge is to stoke the fire under her gift; fan the fire, not the doubt. Alron, Lauren is the keystone, for should she fall, all shall crumble around her, so you must build her confidence. You need to push back the timid; bring forth her courage. Such is there, and you must make her believe. Alron, can you rise to this challenge?"

Knowing this was the last time he would ever talk with his oldest friend, he fought back the tears, "Earth Mother, Morning Rose Huntinghawk. Not once have I let you down in years many, and I shall not start now. Lauren, Mother Chosen, the greatest of all Earth Mothers she shall become, and to you, I promise such. Take your news to Mother, as your task is complete, and well deserved is your rest. Proud of Lauren, both shall be."

"Mother selects you well, and I know your word is good, but I fear for your many challenges."

"Protect and serve; I am Earth Guard. The bond of eight-thousand years I shall never allow to be broken. Your task is now ours, and not once have we failed; not now shall the tradition be broken. Morning Rose, go to Mother,"

The Earth Mother pulled Alron close and kissed his forehead before blessing him. Helping her to stand, he steadied her as they walked to the tree. Stopping in front of the massive frame, she hugged it and then crawled inside the large opening, not once looking back.

Before they left the tree, Alron walked over to Lauren. Bending down, he whisked away all the stray leaves and branches, exposing a large patch of dirt, and pulling an arrow from the quiver, he drove it into the ground. There was a reserved anger in his voice, "Here you shall make your mark, any mark you shall know. Tomorrow, upon our return, when the tree is reborn, I want you to know this spot is true, and not any tricks are played on you. Perchance, when you see such tomorrow, you shall finally believe in Mother."

Stomping her foot into the moist dirt, Lauren knelt down and wrote L+S BFF beside the shoe print. When she stood, Alron nodded to Panry, and the group moved out into the forest to make camp for the night.

### Chapter 22

They had ridden for two hours in silence before Alron called for them to set up camp, but while their travel stopped, the silence continued. As Mirtza prepared the meal, Logan wandered over to Lauren, "So what happened between you and the Earth Mother?"

"It felt like she was pushing me into a corner. I already told her I would lead like she asked, but it was as if she wanted me to sign a deathbed contract. I don't understand any of this, but I'm supposed to accept it – without question. She said the Earth Guards, my friends, and the Ironhouse dwarves would all help, which is great, but what happens when it isn't enough? What happens when I lead left when we should go right? What happens if somebody surrounds us, and there's no way out?" Laurens voice was quiet, "What happens when someone dies?"

Logan thought of his promise to save his sister and the Earth Mother's words, which rattled inside his head like a bag of spilled marbles during an earthquake. Her life in my hands, great peril, great burden, great dangers seek your sister, and the most terrifying of all; your sister Lauren, above all else, nothing else matters. Looking down at his hands, he heard the words as if the Earth Mother was standing in front of him: 'it is your hands that shall save her.' If Lauren's life is in danger, then others will also face the same, and people will die.

"Logan, are you listening?"

Giving his head a quick shake, he tried to force the words and images out. "What? No, I mean, yes."

"What did I say?"

"I don't know."

"What did the Earth Mother say to make you so flustered?"

"She said you will save the lands. All the fame will go straight to your head, and you will make my life a living hell. She apologized for the way you will treat me when you became famous, but it was all necessary. Oh, and you are going to marry Zack."

"You're lying."

"Twenty kids, all daughters. They will all look and act like you, and you will force me to be their nanny. She then gave me the winning numbers for next week's powerball. Yup, if I hadn't come here, I would have been stinking rich beyond my wildest dreams. That was when I started crying."

"You can be such a bastard." Lauren turned and went over to sit beside Mirtza.

Watching her walk away, he looked down. Bastard with your life in his hands. What am I going to do?

After pouring herself a mug of hot bean juice, she chatted with Mirtza, "What did the Earth Mother tell you?"

"That my service to Mother, bringing the Earth Daughter to her was appreciated. She also said my family still lives, and one day, I will embrace them again. What did she say to you, Earth Daughter?"

"Mother apparently didn't leave me any messages. She said Mother will talk directly to me."

"Is that why you are upset?"

"No, I'm tired. I'll see you in the morning."

*******

As it was still dark when Alron shook Lauren awake, he had two stags ready for the ride. "Earth Daughter. I shall take you to visit Earth Mother now, and then we shall head back to Ironhouse."

"Can I have something to eat first?"

"Mirtza is not yet awake. When we return, you may eat. On your feet, as many hours of travel we have."

After Alron helped her onto the stag, they headed back down the path to the tree, but she was still upset at being forced into the new role, and Alron was wondering how to build her confidence. Two hours later, he stopped both stags and helped her to the ground. He pointed to a large tree with a base of ten-feet. All the branches gently swayed in the breeze, and brilliant green leaves sprouted from each one, and as well, the large cavity was absent; it was vibrant and alive. Walking over to where he had thrust his arrow into the ground, he retrieved it.

"Is such your mark?"

Seeing the shoe print with the letters, she looked at the tree before going to it. Caressing the moist bark, she walked once around it, thinking she could sense an energy or something from the tree, but also wondered if it was guilt. "How can this be?"

"This is Mother; her power. Her daughter, now joined, is re-birthed in her image and is part of her. Other things you have seen, heard, said, and all caused doubt, as you thought such mayhap was a trick. Would one so capable of this act, one that has so much power, so much love for her daughters, would that one select you should you be unworthy?" Alron was hoping he was getting through, making her believe. "The force that did this: the same that guides you. Earth Mother and Mother asked you to lead, but not alone shall you stand. Mother embraces you, and so shall your Earth Guard and friends, both new and old. I shall not lie to Earth Daughter, as great perils we all shall face. Dangers already we have seen to be true, as the black-clad are proof of such. Death? Present already such is, but should you not act, the feast of death shall be great."

"What happens when I lead us into a trap?"

"First, your Earth Guard, the finest of all. Onto my shoulders, your safety has befallen, and of such, I turn away from the embrace of failure, so safe you shall remain. Your friend Eric, giant with the sword mighty, I believe words impressive wait for him. Your brother Logan, Sister Chosen, was sent to protect you. Your staff, power and knowledge – Mother's gift to you. Already I have seen you kill with such, and even I have no desire to quarrel with Earth Daughter. Your friend Ryan, I think gifts he has also received. Mighty would a trap have to be, as your army – though small – has not ever been seen before."

"No, Alron, what happens when Eric, Logan, and Ryan are somewhere else? The Ironhouse clan is away fighting another battle. It's my Earth Guard and me, and hundreds attack; what happens then?"

"Shall Earth Guard die? Yes, with pride and honor, we shall gift our lives to save yours, as such was known when all embraced the sacred call. Earth Guards, consider us not, but instead, cast your thoughts to the graves of dead innocents seen already. Should you show them your back, how many more graves shall the black-clad fill? The innocents are like candles in a breeze, but not one, as thousands upon thousands shall embrace the winds of death. Only you can stop the slaughter and protect Mother's children: protect her innocents. A great force guides you, named Mother. A force unknown walks these lands, and such is named Lauren, Mother Chosen."

Lauren fell to her knees, wiping away the tears, "Alron, I don't understand what I'm doing, or why I was selected. I want to help, but I don't know how to. I don't think I can suffer seeing somebody I know die, die because of something I did or said... their blood on my hands."

Alron knelt, "Should you not embrace the lands, Mother's children shall bathe in blood."

"That isn't fair! I didn't start this, didn't order their deaths, and I don't want to be here."

"Lauren, Earth Daughter, my comments are unjust, yet they slaughter innocents with not any chance to defend themselves. Think not of deaths, but instead, of the lives you shall save. That is your purpose, Lauren, Mother Chosen, to save her children. First, we need Lauren to believe in Lauren, Mother Chosen, champion of the innocents."

She thought of Samantha, an innocent dying. Then she thought of how many more families would share the same fate or worse. She wiped away her tears, "You realize Mother had seven billion to choose from. She could have made a much better choice."

"The correct choice Mother has made. Should your embrace of this task be too fast, concerns I would have, and your acceptance requires much thought. You care, which I can see, and worthy is Lauren. Now, I can be Alron or Earth Guard, but to be Earth Guard, I need one to protect and serve. Today, who am I?"

"You are Earth Guard, but remember, you asked me, I didn't ask you for this."

Smiling, Alron pulled out Panry's flask and offered it to Lauren. "Your choice is correct, as both Earth Mother and Mother smile on you, and happy, you have made both. Mother's children, they may not know of you, but please them you shall."

"Is there anybody who's disappointed with my choice?"

"The black-clad, as today their reign of fear ends, and their days now number few. Earth Daughter, the black-clad have not met you, but soon you shall strike fear into their hearts." Alron took a mouthful from the flask, "Now, our journey home is long, and short is our time."

After helping Lauren up, he whistled, and the two stags that had been eating tree leaves headed to his side. Lauren took one last look at the tree, still in disbelief of its transformation; however, she now understood why the Earth Mother was so overjoyed about arriving here, as it was neither a retirement nor a funeral, just a new stage in her life. Crazy world. When he whistled, both stags started back towards the camp.

"So, what's next?"

"First, we shall head back to Ironhouse, and there we shall consult with dwarf. Thus, such plans can wait a few more days."

"I don't know. They attacked twice the last time we left the mine. Somebody's bound to miss those men and go looking for them. From the sounds of it, there's nobody left this far north. If they find us at the Ironhouse Mine, they'll trap us. If we have to save the children, we first need to find them. They need to understand the plague was a hoax. The black-clad most likely have a small army, which is why they cooked up the whole plague thing, so all we need to do is find the people and show them the truth." Lauren continued talking the entire trip back to camp, repeating herself several times, but she started prioritizing their actions, asking questions, and more.

Alron rode beside her, nodding his head and answering what he could. He looked at the surrounding forest. Mother, may I present to you, your Earth Daughter Lauren.

*******

Arriving back at the camp, the smell of bean juice and breakfast derailed Lauren's train of thought. The forest welcomed the silence, as she fought her hunger with stacks of fried meats, vegetables, fresh rolls, and fruit. When done, Alron ordered everybody to head back.

As they rode along, Gingaar pulled out a cloth handkerchief, which she handed to Lauren. "Earth Mother, she wanted you to have such."

Taking the fabric, she opened it up to find ten stickpins inside, each tipped with a small gem and gold leaf. "I don't understand. What are they?"

"When proclaimed Earth Daughter, such a pin is gifted. When Mother calls to them, such they pass to one worthy, and Earth Mother selected you."

"Shouldn't these belong to you?"

"My gift does not blossom, but you are worthy."

"What do they mean?"

"Since ranks are not given, the pins suggest status. Should a disagreement happen, the Earth Mother or Daughter with pins greatest is thought superior to all. When you find others, should they not agree with you, show your pins and such differences shall end. Earth Mother, her line was the longest of all, so not any other shall have pins more." As Gingaar spoke her last sentence, her voice whispered, "Unbroken for generations of ten, the weak link is myself."

"I don't know what to say. Why did the Earth Mother not give them to me herself?"

"She worried such an offer would push you into the shadows."

"How did you know I changed my mind?"

She wiggled her ears back and forth, "First, on your ride back, your words I heard. Second, Alron smiles, and both signs said Lauren is Earth Daughter."

They continued to talk for a while about the Earth Mother, but with the gentle swaying of the wagon, coupled with her early rise to the tree, Lauren never felt the slumber sneak up on her, and taking over her body, she accepted the desired rest. The wagon guided by Mirtza followed the elves as the trails became wider, joining with the main forest road, and turning the magic steeds, he began the long journey back to the Ironhouse Mine.

With the long day ending at camp, Mirtza was retrieving the chests from the wagon. Unexpectantly, the peace broke when Careel Dawnfalcon raced back through the woods. Taking to his stag, Alron whistled orders to the Earth Guards, meeting Careel twenty yards in front of the wagon.

Watching the animated report, Lauren realized that good news had no interest in greeting her, so she called Gingaar over. "You can hear them. What're they talking about?"

"I do not know that I should tell you such."

"If you want me to be the Earth Daughter, then I need to understand what's happening. What're they talking about?"

Gingaar's face had fear written all over it, "Black-clad; an army of such camps beyond the forest."

"Crap! Welcome to the first day of your new job. In case of emergency, please break the glass and pull the alarm,"

"Such I do not understand, Earth Daughter?"

"Just talking to myself. Crap, crap, crap. What the heck do we do now?"

"Your captain approaches."

Alron called out to Mirtza, "We shall not make camp here this night. Cold rations only and no fires. Earth Daughter, a large force camps beyond—"

"Black-clad? How many?"

"Hundreds, perchance more."

"Why would so many be up here, as there's nobody left except a few dwarves, elves, my friends, and me." Lauren paused for a second, "Earth Daughter, may I please present to you Danger and his friend Peril, and both have been very anxious to meet you. Are our new friends looking for me, Alron?"

"Such would be possible, Earth Daughter."

"Well, what do we do?"

"We shall wait until nightfall, and darkness shall hide our flight."

Lauren looked up at the cloudless sky, seeing the full moon.

"We shall consider all options and advise."

"If I can be of any help, please let me know."

"Alron, my horses can outrun any they have," began Mirtza. "You will have to leave your stags here, but I can have us back to Ironhouse in less than two days."

"I have thought of such, but should the black-clad also have a Trickster – one with your abilities – the advantage shall be lost. In our haste to flee from one, perchance we shall race into another. Should other options exist not, your plan we shall reconsider. For now, all should stay close to the wagon, ready to move."

Even though Mirtza asked if anybody wanted rations, their appetites had disappeared, much like their chances of a safe return to Ironhouse, and for hours, they milled around the wagon, wrapping themselves in moonlit forest darkness.

Using the excuse of relieving himself, Logan slipped into the woods. Sensing the tattoos tingling, he paralleled the road, being ever conscious that one wrong move – one sound – would attract the attention of the Earth Guards. With the forest ending one-hundred yards from where Mirtza waited with the wagon, the trees became less as Logan approached the forest edge. He was ten-yards in, still hidden, when he saw most of the enemy camp. Dozens of huge bonfires illuminated the night, their shadows dancing on hundreds of tents, as guards patrolled the perimeter. They were two-hundred yards off the road, camping beside a small forest that provided easy access to firewood. The remaining countryside was clearly visible to them, as the night sun – the full moon – glowed brightly above him.

Logan inhaled the warm summer air, and kneeling down, he touched the grass wet with humidity and dew. Rolling up his left sleeve, he exposed the blue feather tattoo, and caressing it, he separated and then re-joined the segments. He stood there for twenty minutes, embracing the night, and feeling the temperature drop, he sensed an elf stalking from behind. As Alron was about to whisper, he turned, "We need to get back to the wagon. I don't think we can hide here for another day."

"Friend Logan, how would you suggest we flee this night?"

"The weather will change, and we need to be ready when it does." Rolling down his shirtsleeve, Logan silently crept back to the wagon.

Alron wanted to chastise him for wandering off and putting them in danger, but he had never expected to receive orders from the youth. When he returned to the group, three Earth Guards were in front, and everybody else was in the back.

Mirtza had a confused look. "Logan said I should go to the forest edge and wait. Should I, Alron?"

Nodding, he took to his stag as the wagon pulled onto the road, maneuvering his mount to ride beside Logan. "Your words, weather change, explain such."

"You look like you're in a fog. Is something obscuring your thoughts?"

Alron wanted to reach out and smack Logan, as he was unaccustomed to being played with. Babartin rode down the road, pulling up beside him so that all heard.

"Our fortunes change. A cold wind from the north arrives, and fog now obscures the road from both moonlight and their camp, so unseen our escape shall be."

"Logan, explain such!" demanded Alron.

"Do you want to talk or leave?"

Lauren, glaring at both, tapped the staff on the wagon's side, "You two can stop right now. If we can leave, we're leaving. Move this wagon to the edge of the forest, now." Mirtza looked over to Alron, but she stomped her foot, "Mirtza, if I'm going to be the Earth Daughter and lead, it would help if you made this wagon move."

Turning his stag, Alron took the lead, and they advanced out of the retreating forest. At its edge, Careel greeted him with a smile, but both remained quiet, and with the fog growing thicker, his patience was growing thinner. While appreciating whatever help Logan had arranged, he would have preferred to know about it beforehand. As Alron advanced into the fog, Logan whispered for him to wait.

He turned his stag back towards the wagon. "Wait, friend Logan? Why would we do such?"

"We can't go out in that. You can't see anything."

"I thought such was your intent?"

"Wait a few minutes."

Alron wanted to question him more, but there was a sense of futility he had no desire to aggravate, so he whistled to the Earth Guards to be on their highest alert.

After five minutes, the fog began changing. Moving in from the north, it rose ten-feet above the road, and after crossing, once again it cascaded down to the warm ground, continuing its southward journey. Alron cast a look to Logan, who nodded. Whistling, the small group advanced into the strange weather pattern: fog above and to the south; clear in front and to the north.

Mirtza leaned forward, suggesting they could move faster, but before Alron replied, Logan whispered, "It might conceal our movements, but any noise made they can still hear. Quiet like the night we need to remain."

Seeming like a hundred years, two hours later the fog burned off. Lauren and Gingaar had spent the entire time staring into the swirling wall of the moonlit mist, seeing all manner of threatening images, and expecting any one of them to jump into the back of the wagon. While the full moon began the night as an adversary, like an unwavering guard patrolling the lands, now free of the threat and fog, its role changed to guide, illuminating the path to secure their escape. When Alron whistled, the Earth Guards started a fast trot. Mirtza, understanding the need for speed, smacked the reins, and the magical steeds soon challenged the mighty stags for the lead. The look he received from Alron suggested they were not racing, and that it would be best if all arrived at the same time, so Mirtza pulled back on the never-tiring horses, giving the lead back to the Earth Guards. It was either late in the night or early in the morning, but nobody was sure of the time, when they pulled off the road into a small forest with the stags panting heavily.

"Your magic guard bats, please, send such forth," ordered Alron. "We shall rest here until the first sun welcomes the new day. Panry and I shall watch for two hours, the Dawnfalcons after that. Cethail, Erust, the final watch shall be yours. Not any fires or wandering off. Sleep should you be able, as when the new day arrives, we shall ride hard and long."

Before any questioned his orders, Alron and Panry wandered back towards the road. When they were at the edge, hiding in the darkest of the forest moon shadows, Panry smiled. "Of your first command, you handled such very well. I shall go guard the west, but I feel better that you are now in charge." Then he quickly hiked to his guard station.

Alron turned to the forest, "So, Mother, my challenges begin, and not even one day of rest do I get. Better yet, both Panry and Sister mock myself as well. Yes, I know: protect and serve." In the darkness, Alron wondered what else lay ahead for both him and his new Earth Daughter.

### Chapter 23

Rubbing her sleep-encrusted eyes, Lauren smelled the bean juice and wandered over to the fire. She welcomed the warmth of the hot liquid, letting it push back the cold morning air that was embracing her. After taking a long drink, she threw a pebble at Logan, bringing him out of his bean juice coma. "What happened last night?"

"The winds of fate changed in our favor?" Logan shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know. I just wanted to get away from that group. There was a 60-60 chance they might go in either direction, and if they headed into the forest, we would be screwed. Also, if they headed in this direction, I didn't want to follow them back to the mine either. Then, I felt the blue feather tattoo, a tingling sensation, but I wasn't sure of what would happen."

Shaking her head, Lauren hoped John could continue tutoring him in math. While her brother might be able to control weather, numbers would always challenge him. Looking down at the grill that the percolating pot sat on, she saw no fire, "Mirtza, how did you make this?"

"Alron denied us a fire, as he worried the smoke might give away our position. One token in the box is this grill, and it contains the heat."

"How does it work?"

"I hate to sound like your brother, but I do not know. I put a pot on, and it is hot. I take the pot off, and it is cold." Removing the steaming pot from the grill, he placed his hand on it. Lauren, wincing at the unexpected action, was surprised to see him smile before putting the pot back on the grill. "Really, I have no idea."

"Earth Daughter, what shall happen next?" asked Gingaar.

"I... no idea at all."

Logan, hearing the statement, almost choked on his drink.

"If these two don't understand what they do, why should I be any different? Let's see what Alron has to say." When she offered to find him, Lauren said to wait. Picking up the brush, before something nested in her hair, she began battling the bird nests. Gingaar, seeing the struggles, helped Lauren.

Alron and Panry showed up twenty minutes later, "Earth Daughter, the Dawnfalcons have returned. They rode for one hour, directions east and west. Not any new threats do they report. When your bean juice is done, we shall head back to Ironhouse."

Looking up to him, Lauren realized it was an official report from her Earth Guard Captain. My Earth Guard, "Alron, please sit with me a moment. How do I... What do I..."

"Are you troubled, Earth Daughter?"

"A few days ago, you said you would be my Earth Guard, but I still don't understand what that means. Right now, what you said, that was like an official report. It wasn't a conversation; it was formal. How am I supposed to react? What am I supposed to say? Do I call you Captain?"

"You are Earth Daughter, and I am Earth Guard. I protect and serve. You may react or say as you see fit. As for myself, Captain is the title, but I am named Alron."

"Well then, why am I called Earth Daughter? Why can't you call me Lauren?"

"Tradition, once accepted, to all you are known as Earth Daughter."

"But the other day you called me Lauren?"

He smiled, "Yes, and the day past, you accepted your title, Earth Daughter."

Lauren, scratching her dry scalp, ran her fingers through the straight hair and tried to shake the confusion from her head, "Thank you, Alron, I guess, but stop being so formal."

He smiled, "Yes, Earth Daughter."

*******

Once the trip started, clutching her tri-wood staff, Lauren sat at the back of the wagon, hoping the gentle swaying would free a brilliant idea from the jumble of concerns clouding her mind. It was around noon when she called to Alron. Stopping his stag until the wagon passed, he followed behind.

"If that army heads this way, how long before they get to Ironhouse?"

"There is much to consider. Days of seven, not more than ten I think."

"When we get back to the mine, we need to start heading south. Otherwise, there's a chance they can trap us there."

"We can scout with Earth Guards, to warn should any approach."

"Those who fled, how far south did they go?"

"Such I do not know."

"Mirtza, when you traveled from the south of the Newlands to where you found us, how long did it take?"

"Three months."

"If you had not used your bracelet to get us to the north, how long would it have taken by cart?"

"I guess another three months?"

"Crap, six freaking months? Can you use your bracelets to get us south?"

"No."

"I was just hoping. When we get to Ironhouse, please see if you can find a rock unique to the mine."

"Yes, Earth Daughter."

Alron gave her a quizzical look.

"In case we run into resistance. We can use Mirtza's bracelet to get back to Ironhouse and regroup."

"Such is a good idea, Earth Daughter."

"Alron, each time we've ventured from the mine, we find stronger groups. While these lands appear deserted, I suspect the only reason they're here is that sword or me. As we head south, how bad will it get?"

"Such is unknown."

Lauren shortened her question, "How bad?"

"My best, a guess such shall be."

"Then guess and please, don't sugar coat it."

He looked at Lauren, who wanted a truthful answer, but he needed a half-truth – something cloaked in the shadows as she was.

Her voice was not harsh. "You're stalling and trying to find the answer you want, not the one I need. Your reply now: how bad will it get?"

Staring at the ground, he could not look her in the eye, as on the last trips, they had met a growing number of the strange forces. He was undecided if they had been lucky or blessed, but heading south, there was only so much luck one could pack. Then there were the words the Earth Mother had spoken; the path was dark to Mother – but it was in the dark where bad things hid.

Lauren's voice had a new calm authority, "Alron, my answer, please!" However, some questions are better left unasked.

His reply was soft, barely a whisper. He only spoke one word, three letters. It hit Lauren hard, as she never heard a whisper; she heard a scream echo in her head: Bad.

*******

After they stopped, Mirtza tried to coax Lauren with a pot of hot tea, but the aroma was insufficient. Instead, she wrapped herself in the dancing shadows, shunning all advances from Gingaar and Alron, but Logan was immune to her powers of desired seclusion. Taking over a cup of hot tea, he sat down, waiting for her to acknowledge him. He was her twin and knew what she was thinking. In his head, he counted to ten with her, but arriving at the fractions, he became confused.

"Go away, Logan, I need to be alone."

"You can't call Mom here to scold me away. What's wrong?"

Lauren's expression changed, "I haven't thought about Mom and Dad in a while. You don't think we'll forget about them, do you?"

"No, I wouldn't let you do that. What's wrong?"

"What's right? They're coming for us, that damn sword or me. For us to find the people they scared off, we need to go through them. A couple dozen at a time, I figured those testosterone-filled Earth Guards would be enough. If the Ironhouse clan tags along, sure sixty against twelve, it might still be a fair fight for us. However, a couple hundred? I didn't believe we would see that many, but with so many up here, I imagine they have a bigger army than I expected. How do we... how do we... I mean... what the—"

"Well, first, take enjoyment that a female force now pulls my strings – the way I used to push your buttons. I feel like a damn puppet. I'm sure before we find a way home that Sister will adopt the name Lauren, once she gets to know you better. Second, if they back you into a corner, unleash your inner Mother. You know: the scary eyes and voice. Also, I imagine Eric has a few big aces up his armored fitted sleeves, and when we get back to the mine, we can see if Zack can make any sense of this. It is also time you started talking to Ryan and forgive him. It's been so long, and you shunning him, it still hurts him. Possibly back at school, back in town, you two could keep your distance. Here, let's face it, the five of us need to hang close. Making him an outcast, it makes everybody else uncomfortable."

"Six, you forgot John," Lauren reminded her brother.

"We need to ask Zack why he's able to make more sense than John. Crazy world."

"I have this sensation of impending doom. Like I woke up and realized I forgot to study for a science exam."

"Hey, don't use the S-word here," began Logan. "This place doesn't seem to have any of that shit, which I like. John may not, but I do."

"When we get back to the mine, we need to start making plans to head south. I have a feeling it'll be like trying to push a thread through a brick wall."

"Well, in that case, they picked the right person to be their Earth Daughter. Because you are so stubborn, that brick wall doesn't stand a chance."

Mentally exhausted, she fought against the urge to explain the simple game to her even simpler brother. Lying down, she closed her eyes, and hoping for dreamless sleep, it never arrived, but nightmares of a black-clad invasion did.

*******

Ryan, Eric, and John were sitting in the dining hall, having finished the first meal of the day, and they were discussing how to kill the boredom, but hearing the Ironhouse brothers arguing in the grand entrance hall, they went to investigate.

Bor looked furious, "No doubt?"

"Missing is a pony, saddle and all," advised Hakk. "Open is the stable door."

"Forge slag," cursed Bor. "Gor, stay here, in case he returns. Hakk, saddle four ponies. Aaro, Fen, and Fodu, armor and axes now. Search the countryside, we must."

As the three boys stood back, Hakk raced down to the stables. Bor, Aaro, Fen, and Fodu headed upstairs to fetch armor and weapons.

"Gor, what happened?" asked John.

"Wander lately, Pappy's mind does, and traveled with it today, he did."

Eric had a fondness for the crusty old man, "Can we help?"

"Many dangers are outside. Suited best for my brothers, this task is."

Twenty minutes later, the four dwarves clattered down the stairs in their metal armor, and resting on their shoulders, axes with blades almost half their height. As they headed down the stairs, Hakk came running up, heading to his room to retrieve similar before joining the search.

*******

The Master Weapon Smith had risen early that morning, saddling up his pony before heading out alone. "Visit the merchant today I will, to get the new fabric to make a dress. Happy will be my wife."

Two hours into the day, he stopped on an open section of the road, looking at the rising suns to the east. Quickly the suns set, and dark it will soon be. Late I will be for the last meal. He then dug his heels into the pony, picking up the pace heading south – away from the mine.

*******

It sat perched on a rocky ledge, sniffing the breeze. Wrong. Something wrong. Me no like. Danger. Taking to the winds, it climbed higher. Where is the wrong?

*******

Leaving the stables, the four Ironhouse brothers fanned out, but the suns had burnt all the dew from the grass. Unable to spot any tracks, they worried about possible outcomes. "No directions would Pappy give. Wander east or south the pony would. Fen, Fodu, head east." Bor and Aaro then headed south, cursing under their breath.

*******

From above, it spotted the Master Weapon Smith. Stupid old man. Bad Men. Me too far. Me too late.

*******

The Master Weapon Smith, scanning the surrounding countryside, failed to understand why the mountains were so close. "Where is the village road? Ask for help from those young lads, I will."

*******

As Aaro and Bor crested the long hill, in the distance, they saw their father approaching black-clad soldiers. Seeing him pulled from the pony, they dug heels into their mounts, which were already covered in a thick sweat from the forced gallop. Racing to the rescue, they watched the horrifying scene playout. However, it took on a new dimension when a white frost bear exploded out of the trees, ripping into the soldiers assaulting their father. The speed traveled exceeded the intense action, but neither brother understood what was now happening. The bear positioned itself between their father and the soldiers, protecting the motionless dwarf. Huge claws flexed out from its massive paws, ripping through metal and skin, severing muscles and veins alike. The bear roared in anger, exposing huge snow-white canine teeth, which clamped down onto the fearful soldiers. When it howled next, white teeth were absent, as a thick red liquid now coated them. Aaro and Bor pushed their ponies harder, and when still a hundred yards away, the frost bear picked up the last soldier. Puncturing skin with claws, they found lungs, extinguishing the last black-clad scream.

The frost bear roared, turning to face the unmoving dwarf on the ground. Me too late. Tried. Not good enough.

Bor screamed so loud that birds for miles took flight. As the beast looked up, metal-clad, battle-enraged, ax-waving dwarves raced towards it. With the distance narrowing, the white frost beast, now mostly red, turned and headed into the forest, leaving a trail of blood-soaked leaves where it passed. Pulling their ponies to a hard stop, Bor and Aaro were almost thrown to the ground. Aaro, jumping off, ran to his father's side. Bor, his eyes filled with vengeance, followed the blood trail into the forest. Returning later, his vengeance unsatisfied, he found Aaro kneeling beside the motionless body, and his brother's tears spoke the words he could not utter. Kneeling down beside his breathless father, Bor wanted to curse him and his forge-baked brain.

It took a few minutes, but Aaro finally spoke, "Death by steel, not beast. Ended his life, the black-clad did."

"Frost beast, why protect Pappy?"

"Brother, strange this is, but no answers do I have."

Bor wandered to where the bodies of the black-clad soldiers laid, and kicking each, he hoped one still breathed. The ground was red, red as the rage in Bor's eyes, but none met the battle challenges he screamed. Returning to Aaro, they gently placed their father on the distraught pony. Walking reverently up the hill, each held a reign, and following obediently behind, their mounts. With heavy hearts, they took to their saddles, starting the quiet journey to the mine. When they arrived at the location where the east and south roads met, Aaro turned to the Ironhouse Mine, taking his father home. Bor, heading east, looked for his brothers, to deliver the news they hoped never to hear.

It was past noon when Gor saw the two ponies crest the hill, but only one rider was sitting upright. As he rushed down to the lower level, John, Ryan, and Eric followed. Pushing open the stable door, he saw Aaro's despondent expression, which caused Gor to scream.

Dismounting in the field, he led both into the stable, as for the last time, the Master Weapon Smith was returning home. Cutting the straps that held his father secure, Aaro pulled him off, and cradling him, he carried the body to a nearby table. Like a punctured bellows, the Master Weapon Smith was broken, and Walward Ironhouse was no more.

With his back to the group, Aaro's eyes were wet with dwarven tears. "Follow his tracks... none were left, so split up we did. Rode to the south, Bor and I did and found Pappy – with black-clad soldiers. Wandered fast his pony did, too fast." Aaro paused, "Odd is this part, so question me not. Appeared from nowhere, a huge frost bear that fought the black-clad, but late, too late it was. Pappy is..." It was a simple word, four letters, yet Aaro could not speak it: dead. Slamming his ax into the stone floor, with the dwarven edge being sharp, stone cracked, accepting the unspent rage of the Master Apprentice. Aaro, unable to face his brother, was unsure of what to say. Heading over to a different table, he stripped off the heavier parts of armor, throwing them at the wall and screaming the entire time. When he was down to the padded armor, he headed to the exit, "To the forge I go," and then he left the stables.

Gor tried his best to hold back the tears, but when his brother exited, they arrived. Going to his father, he saw the gaping sword wound and screamed. Having retrieved his ax from the kitchen while waiting, in case there was any danger, he slammed it into the stone floor with the same anger, screaming even louder.

Uncertain of what to do, Ryan, John, and Eric looked at the ground. With tears forming, choked with sadness, they could not speak.

Realizing something needed to be said, Eric forced back his grief and approached. "Your father was a great man. Is there anything we can do?"

"Bring him back?"

"If I could, I would... I can't."

"Brother Eric, know this I do. Still...."

Eric stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Gor, "What happens now?"

He pushed him away, "Tradition. Reunited Pappy and forge will be." Gor was always the most considerate of the Ironhouse brothers, but today was different, "Now, leave me alone."

Realizing there was nothing to do or say, Eric re-joined John and Ryan. They wandered out of the stable entrance into the grassy field.

"John, What did he mean Aaro was lighting the forge?" asked Eric.

"I think they will cremate their father."

Waiting outside, hours later, they saw the silent three dwarves ride back. Once back inside, watching as each approached their father's lifeless body, they saw the remaining axes buried into the rock floor of the stables. Returning an hour later, Aaro went to his father, and picking him gently up from the table, he headed out the back door. John, Eric, and Ryan followed, but Bor held up his hand, as they were not welcome.

### Chapter 24

The next day, as three suns rose high into the sky, deep in the mine, six dwarf sons shrouded themselves in the dark. John, Eric, and Ryan, still confused and distressed at what had happened, waited to see if they could help.

Wandering into the silent dining room, with no food to greet him, Zack was confused to see his three friends sitting around the table. "Dudes, what's happening? Where's the grub?"

"The Master Weapon Smith wandered off and was killed by some soldiers. His sons cremated him yesterday," replied Eric.

Turning around, Zack headed into the kitchen, returning with a large pitcher of ale and four mugs, "Funeral's suck."

"That's cold," replied John.

"Actually, it's my beer that's cold. Me, I'm lukewarm. I understand what the little dudes are going through. Look, I may not have written the book about loss and disappointment, but I have had it read to me so many times, it's simply a fairy tale that doesn't end well. Yeah, death sucks, and murdered in cold blood, that sucks even more. However, if you believe there is something you can say to make them feel better or lessen their anguish, you're wrong. I'm sure I have heard every stupid line somebody can say, trying to make themselves feel better, so they think they've met a social obligation. Besides, aren't you overlooking something?"

Eric was undecided if he should feel sorry for Zack or smack him. "What would that be?"

"Old dude was killed by soldiers, so how much longer before they knock on our door to spoil this little party?" As Zack drank in silence, the others realized the serene peace at Ironhouse was most likely going to end soon, and not in a good way.

At some point in the morning, the four boys headed into the kitchen, and going through the cupboards, like a pack of mice, they looked for crumbs to satisfy their hunger. They waited in the dining hall for several hours, hoping one of the Ironhouse brothers ended his mourning. After several more hours of waiting, Zack, grabbing a fresh pitcher of ale, headed to the terrace overlooking the mountain valley, and the others followed, as did the uneasy feeling of the unknown.

With the suns high in the sky, they spotted Mirtza's wagon entering the valley, and all but Zack rushed down to the stables to greet their returning friends. As Eric pushed open the door, Mirtza led his wagon inside, followed by the elves.

"Where are the Ironhouse brothers?" asked Alron.

Bowing his head, Eric closed his eyes and repeated the recent events.

"I shall go find Ironhouse, and we shall meet in the hall to exchange stories."

After Lauren jumped out of the wagon, she approached John, "What happened?"

"I think he was coming down with a dwarven form of Alzheimer's. By the time Aaro and Bor found him, it was too late."

Death was all Lauren could think about. "Are they ok?"

"I don't know, so you will need to ask them yourself. How was your trip?"

"Good... bad – I don't know." Turning to Mirtza, she re-emphasized the need to find a unique stone in the mine, and everybody then headed upstairs.

Alron arrived ten minutes after all had entered, advising the brothers would be down within the hour. Gor, the first to enter, went straight to the kitchen. Aaro and Bor were next, followed by the three remaining brothers.

Lauren approached them, and they still had grief written on their faces and beards wet with tears. "I'm so sorry for your loss. The Master Weapon Smith was a great man."

Aaro stepped forward. Now the eldest, it was his role to speak for Ironhouse: his clan. "Great was his life, Earth Daughter, and forged and taught much he did, but leave metal in a forge too long, and soft it goes. To Pappy, the same happened, and forged-baked was his mind. Close was his end, known by us all. Death, not worthy of dwarf, made worse as late were his sons, and revenge, stolen by a frost bear."

Lauren felt for the brothers, as losing a father to a senseless accident would be hard, but feeling the purple hair caress her cheek, she started twirling it, allowing the memories of Samantha's death to crawl out of the black void.

Bor stepped forward, "Sad it is, but together Pappy and forge are now, so satisfied is tradition."

Letting go of her hair, Lauren grasped the tri-wood staff with both hands, hoping it would somehow provide the needed strength. "I wish there was something more we could do, but when we took the Earth Mother to her tree, we encountered a large force of soldiers. I have been chosen," and staring at Alron, she added, "and asked to lead and help find the midlanders, elves, dwarves, and others. I don't believe we can stay here any longer." She moved to the center of the room, "We need to head south to find those who fled. My Earth Guard has advised that where I want to go, they will lead, and I believe Logan will tag along. Eric should go with us also, and hopefully, we'll be able to find somebody to train him on how to use that sword." She looked to Aaro and Bor, as the Earth Mother said they would follow, but she wanted it to be their choice. "I'm hoping once we head south, they'll leave you alone. You should be safe here, and a few of my friends may want to stay with you."

Aaro cracked his massive knuckles, "Stay they can, but alone they will be, as revenge my ax will not find here. Unlearned lessons, Ironhouse needs to teach the black-clad. Good Earth Guard may be, but protection many need, so with Earth Daughter and friends, Ironhouse will be to the end."

Hoping for a similar answer, the passion from Aaro warmed Lauren's heart, but his desire for revenge was concerning. "Aaro, Bor, all of you, if you join, it means you do what I say. If I say we need to avoid a fight, it means we will not engage any opponents. I'm sure you'll get a chance, but not until I say so. Is that understood?" Aaro and Bor were reluctant to answer, but she pressed the point, "You can all stay here to hunt, but if you go with us, you need to do as I say. Do you agree?"

In the time it took to give their answer, she determined ore would form faster in the mountain depths, but after several long minutes, they replied in unison, "Yes, Earth Daughter."

"Gingaar, Mirtza, John, Ryan, and Zack; I guess you have a choice. You can stay here or come with us." One-by-one, they all stepped forward.

Gor pushed a cart out of the kitchen containing foods and drinks. "Needed are many preparations before we can leave."

"First, tell us of your trip. Clues it may hold," inquired Bor.

After exchanging stories, Lauren asked Alron, Panry, Aaro, and Bor to make suggestions on what they should do, knowing they were best suited for this task. Desiring to have a bath, she wanted to soak one last time, letting the hot water penetrate into her worries to lessen them.

Returning to the dining hall an hour later, she joined Eric and John sitting at a table inside the room. Turning her chair, so her back was to the wall, she scanned the room: one midlander, five friends, six dwarves, and seven elves. It felt like she was making a bid in a card game; one she failed to understand.

"What's troubling you?" asked John.

"Five weeks ago, a scared little girl wondered what the heck was happening. As I sit before you, I am still that same person, however, now I have nineteen people blindly following me. Throw in an army of an unknown size, a strange Mother, and a brother who's doing things that are even more unusual. Everything is fine, John, just fine. We're going on a trip into the unknown, against an unknown army, and to an unknown location. Then, when we get there, we find a bunch of people, tell them the truth, raise an army, and help them take back their lands. What do I have to be troubled with?"

Trying to be sarcastic, John smiled, "I thought you didn't understand what was happening. It looks like you have a clear grasp of everything."

"Seriously, did you and Zack switch brains when we arrived here? This isn't a slumber party where all I have to do is make sure everybody has a place to sleep and order a pizza. They already killed a defenseless old dwarf, so how many more will die? Part of me knows it has to happen, but part of me is extremely scared. I told Alron and the Earth Mother I would, and I will. I only wish I knew what it was." Lauren never waited for a response to any of her questions, and John was doubtful if she was even talking to him. Joining the table that Alron sat at, she listened carefully to everything the four had to say.

Zack wandered over to John and Eric, his faithful companion in hand: a pitcher of beer. "Guess we're going on a road trip."

*******

In a tent city in the grasslands, the commander inspected the six dead soldiers clad in black. "A bear did this? It would have been huge, and we have seen none that size. I suspect trickery of some kind. Send all of the troops to the south road. I want guard post every few miles, and block off every entrance to even the smallest mountain pass. It will take months to finish the bridge, and we cannot afford to have somebody warn them. The troops are staging and there is no place for them to hide. I will send somebody to retrieve magic to help in the hunt. Until it arrives, guard that road day and night. If the sons of the Royal House arrive, and we have not captured all, they will skin us alive – all of us."

"Commander, it will take time to reposition so many."

"Then march day and night. Send riders to inspect where the bodies were found."

*******

The dreaded day finally arrived. The dwarves had dusted off one of their wagons, loading it with fresh food, their armor, weapons, bedrolls, grain for the mounts, and more. Lauren had checked with Mirtza, confirming he had found a unique stone in the stables that the bracelet recognized. The night before, Hakk had set the remaining ponies free – at Alron's insistence. Given a choice between letting the six ride or corralling them in the wagon, he wanted to eliminate any option of the first choice. Worried about a surprise attack, he feared the mounts might flee to every compass point, making it difficult to keep the group together. To that end, he had ordered cushions and blankets added to Mirtza's wagon, hoping to make the long trip more bearable.

Lauren woke early this morning, as troubled dreams had refused to yield, granting her one last night of peaceful sleep in the large warm bed. After taking a long hot shower, she said goodbye to it and then left her room with the tri-wood staff in hand. She headed down to the stables, wondering if they had overlooked anything. As she was reviewing the packed items, John showed up, adding his backpack and Iron Wood staff to the wagon, but the look he saw on her caused him concern.

"What's wrong?"

"When we took the Earth Mother to her tree, I told her I would lead."

"Logan already filled me in on what happened. What were you supposed to say?"

"Yes... no. The next day, Alron took me back to that spot. I was still half expecting to see a body stuffed inside it, but instead, I saw the most magnificent tree reaching up to the heavens. Something spectacular happened there, something..."

"Miraculous?"

"I don't know," replied Lauren.

"I believe there's a divine plan at work here, but Mirtza finding us in the middle of nowhere is the only proof I have."

"Are you sure this is the way it's supposed to be?"

John tried to quote Zack's words, "Belief and need. Have a little bit of faith."

"Then how do I know it'll all work out?"

"Ask me when it's over. That's the only time we'll categorically know."

"You realize I feel like a blind person trying to find my way out of a doorknob factory?"

"Listen for the hum of the emergency exit lights," and both silently headed upstairs.

After consuming the last meal, everybody helped Gor to close up the kitchen. As the rest headed towards the stables, Lauren waited for Eric. "There's one more thing." She then led him around the corner to the secret room, and placing a hand where Aaro had, opened the door. On the fireplace mantel sat Tranquil Fury, still in the ugly scabbard. Walking up to the sword, she tapped it with the tri-wood staff. "For too long, darkness has embraced you, and much like your prison here, it consumes the lands, even during the day. I'm hoping your tired of it, and you can help us push it back, but Tranquil Fury, you serve Eric, the champion. He will do what I ask, not what you want, so if you try anything, I'll melt you down and make table cutlery out of you." Turning around, she headed to the door, "Eric, I don't know what will happen. We'll try to find somebody to train you to fight," and then she sighed, "when we get to wherever we're going. Maybe the sword and armor are a symbol to rally the people."

Eric's reply was soft, "No, they're not."

"You're right. Even before I said it, I knew it sounded like a boatload of crap. Go introduce yourself to Tranquil Fury. From this day forward, never let it leave your sight, and let nobody else touch it."

He thought back to his conversation with the Earth Mother in the stables. While unsure of why he had walked over, he also remembered her whispered words. Grim is your task, as much death you shall reap, and a great bounty you shall harvest. Once begun, you shall embrace this, but you shall become sick of death. When over, know this now, even though little comfort such shall gift you. You shall cleanse Mother's lands, and in doing so, birth violent memories, but from you, Mother shall cleanse such, so haunt you they cannot. Until that day arrives, you shall seek battle, and your hunger shall be great, but even greater, the waste unleashed upon the lands. A slow death stalks Mother's children, hidden within the plague hoax. You shall be carnage and genocide, and your wrath shall be brutal. A storm you shall soon unleash, and only great death will quench that thirst. Such shall be named Eric, and your guide is Tranquil Fury. Friend Eric, Champion, I would tell you to go in peace, but your path leads not in that direction... but no elf word is known for where you shall go. I hope your trip shall be short and that you shall suffer not...

He still recalled the words: no elf word is known for where you shall go. While she may not have had one, he did: hell. Walking up to the sword, he turned to Lauren, "Can I have a few minutes alone with it?" While surprised, she left the room. Lifting the sword, he pulled the magnificently crafted blade from the dark devouring it inside the sheath. "Hello, Tranquil Fury, I'm Eric, your champion. As I understand it, you're my guide, and our destination is Hell. From what the Earth Mother said, we will have a very colorful time together. I don't know how many shades of red there are, but from the way she talked, you want to taste them all. The weather has been calm outside lately, and she said a storm was coming; that we were that storm. Friend, I can't say I will enjoy what will happen, but the sooner we start, the sooner it ends." Placing the massive sword across his back, he adjusted the strap, preventing the death-hungry metal from tripping him, and then he joined Lauren and the others.

### Chapter 25

Lauren called out, "Before we start, I want to thank everybody, but to be honest, how you can place so much blind trust in me..." Mother, please help me. "All we have is a direction: south, but that was all Mirtza had when he found and brought us to Ironhouse. I don't know if it was luck, or if somebody guided him, but it seems to have worked. John believes there's a divine design in place, and we can't stay here. I thought long and hard last night, trying to find words to inspire this trip, but... Mother chose me. I didn't ask for this, and if this all goes terribly wrong, blame her, not me." Sitting down, she pointed to the open stable door, and they headed for the unknown.

Bor left last, to lock the mine, and as he mounted his pony, he looked to the elf, "Inspire she does not, and sad was her speech. Troubled is Earth Daughter?"

"Friend Bor, first, grateful is elf for the hospitality of Ironhouse. As for Earth Daughter, much Mother has thrust on her young shoulders. She is but five weeks old and has received not any instructions, unlike Earth Mother who trained for years of forty. Ores fine or not, how long did you take to tell them apart? When five weeks old, you still suckled on your mother's bosom. Earth Daughter, youngest of all, yet the greatest task of all Mother places in her hands. Should Earth Daughter embrace such too fast and did not consider all, then I would have concerns. This responsibility is great, so her concern should also be."

"Try harder she could. Alron, doubts I now have."

"The black-clad we shall find, and you shall avenge your father's death. Does that not inspire my dwarf friend?"

Bor cracked his neck and smiled, and reaching behind his head, he caressed the sharp edge of his ax. "Fewer doubts, but still..."

*******

When they camped that night, Lauren realized Alron was avoiding her, "What's wrong?"

"After Earth Mother commanded myself to protect Earth Daughter, one more she spoke. Earth Daughter cannot command her Earth Guard. Serve, protect, help, guide; that which you ask for, Earth Guard shall provide."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say?"

"Should great danger emerge, Earth Mother worried you would command us to safety; that you will sacrifice yourself to save your Earth Guard. Her command: protect you at all costs."

"Go, stay, do whatever you want." If this world wants me to lead, why do they keep making decisions for me?

*******

The next eleven days were uneventful. While the travel was slow, they saw no signs of the invading soldiers, and everybody was enjoying the new scenery; forests alive with wildlife, the magnificent ever-present view of the mountains to the west, and flat grasslands consumed by rolling hills to the east. It seemed as if though their worry was for nothing.

Towards the end of the second month, at the same time Panry heard the alarms from the rear guard, Alron heard warning whistles from the front, but they were between two large forests, both of which were too far away. Pointing to a small stand of trees, Lauren told Mirtza to head for them, and when both wagons stopped, she jumped out, driving her tri-wood staff into the ground. What happened next surprised all, as the trees grew rapidly, increasing in height by several feet in a matter of seconds, and branches multiplied, sprouting a thick coat of leaves, which then dropped, filling in the gaps. As the front guard approached the empty road, Alron whistled, and they headed over to the large forest, which they did not recall seeing. However, no whistle was required for the rear guard, as the wagon tracks were still visible, which Lauren also saw. Pushing the staff deeper into the ground, she concentrated harder, and crushed grass filled with life. Plants and young trees, bent over with a death sentence, drank deep from the earth and stood straight. Completely immersed in the task, Alron looked at the Earth Daughter clutching the tri-wood staff on her knees. He had never seen one command the plants so absolutely or seen them embrace the call of a gifted one. When completely hidden from the road, he breathed a sigh of relief before walking over.

Watching in silence, two black-clad patrols met, both numbering twenty-four. Alron's thought; after reporting any findings, they would head back in the same direction, but instead, they dismounted. Scanning the grassland in front, he saw no signs that Lauren had missed, but he was unsure of why they had stopped. With forty-eight to twelve, some might consider them outnumbered, but six were Earth Guards and capable of taking down forty-eight by themselves. In fact, he knew Panry alone could dispatch so few. He heard the silent howl of the Ironhouse axes screaming for vengeance, as did Lauren who was glaring at the Ironhouse brothers. Her speech at the mine may have failed to inspire them, but her look froze them in their stance. Before them knelt an Earth Daughter, Mother Chosen, and power like none had seen before. With axes ready, they remained unmoving.

Horrified to see the soldiers break out rations, Alron watched them lie down in the field, releasing the mounts to graze. While he was unsure of the curses Lauren spoke under her breath, he saw his reaction mirrored on her face. The stags, elf-trained, would remain motionless until commanded. However, a beast or other, a muscle would cramp, or somebody would sneeze, cough, or something else would happen. Glancing to Panry, he conveyed no verbal message, but there was no need, as his Earth Guards could read his mind, and Panry passed the message seen in Alron's eyes to the next, do not move, be ready. Each, in turn, relayed the same message along. Lauren, having no worries about the Earth Guards, was certain the vengeful Ironhouse brothers would remain in place. However, she now stared at Eric and Tranquil Fury. Every deck of cards has at least one joker in it, more specifically: a wild card. She knew Eric would remain quiet, but the sword had been on his back for over two months, so she was uncertain if it could influence or manipulate him. Glaring at him, his face was without expression, as he stared at the black-clad soldiers. Tapping Alron on the knee, she pointed to Eric. Noticing him beginning to twitch, before he did anything, Panry tapped Eric on the shoulder and pointed to Lauren. Her look intensified, but so did his. Alron stepped back, afraid bolts of lightning might shoot forth between them. Removing one hand from the tri-wood staff, she pointed to Eric and then to the ground, and while he dropped to one knee, it took longer than expected.

Alron and Lauren both breathed a sigh of relief, but refocusing on the soldiers, they saw one approaching their hiding place. Undoing his pants, he searched for a spot to relieve himself. Grasping the staff, she pressed it into the earth, causing small thorny vines to grow, which pricked the soldier's hands and bit his legs through his trousers. With each step, the vines grew taller, silently fighting his advance, but being so close, Alron heard his breathing. Just as he thought all was lost, the soldier turned and headed to the other side of the road. They were silent for fifteen minutes, but then Lauren heard a pony move one of its legs, shaking off a cramp, and she began humming very softly, hoping to comfort all the beasts. Mirtza's oxen had never moved an inch since entering the forest, not even swatting at flies with their tails.

The soldiers packed up after an hour, and as the southbound patrol continued south, the other patrol headed north. Alron waited for fifteen minutes before signaling the all clear, allowing the twenty statues hidden in the shadows to emerge, and after an hour, they headed out.

*******

It crept through the dark moonless night, stopping to listen and test the air. Me like this. Open. Fresh air. Close. Hungry. Fresh. Me like fresh.

*******

It had been two weeks since the first encounter with the black-clad soldiers, and every morning Alron wondered if today would be the day? They were barely two hours on the road when they found the waiting Dawnfalcons, the front guard. They reported a guard post ahead, but they were dead from a bear attack.

After Alron called to Panry, Aaro, and Bor, the four rode ahead. It was as the Dawnfalcons had reported; four frightened horses tethered to trees, and four dead soldiers ripped apart by a bear, which was obvious from the claw marks and wounds. Ordering them to hide the dead in the forest, Alron instructed them to bring the horses and saddles, as he had a plan.

Sending the Dawnfalcons out to be the front guard, they tied the horses to Mirtza's wagon and headed south once again. Two hours later, Alron found the Dawnfalcons waiting. After asking for a report, their reply was simple: the same. Again, they found another guard camp like the last. After hiding the bodies, they gathered the horses and saddles.

Traveling for two more hours, once again the Dawnfalcons were waiting for Alron, "Guard post, one mile south, but all still live."

Aaro also heard the report, "Sneak past?"

"Such is not possible," replied Babartin

With two guard posts taken out and a third one still occupied, Alron had to admit they were in enemy-controlled territory. Eight missing guards would raise questions, and the wagons were moving too slow. He rode over to her, "Our path is blocked. Let us turn back, find a camp, and discuss options."

Lauren nodded, as Alron's concern was enough for her to agree with the Earth Guard Captain. The wagons turned on the narrow road, and when Alron found a rocky section to hide the tracks, he ordered the wagons into the forest, leaving Panry at the road's edge to wait for the rear guard.

Alron approached Mirtza, "Your chests. Can we put the wagon cargo into such?"

"Why?"

"We move too slow."

"We can load the contents from both wagons into one, and I can put mine in my pocket. Would that help?"

Nodding, Alron then went over to Lauren, "Earth Daughter, threats increase, and we move too slow, but we now have eight mounts extra. Both wagons we shall marry into one, Mirtza's, and he shall then place such into his pocket. Horse, pony, and stag we shall then ride. Faster we will travel and leave less obvious tracks."

*******

Me like. Too easy. So many. Fresh. Me like fresh.

### Chapter 26

That night Alron had no desire to rely solely on Mirtza's guard bats, especially with a strange beast in the woods. Having assigned everybody a one-hour guard duty, when the morning arrived, all were grumpy, tired, or both. Before everyone completed the meal, Mirtza walked over to his wagon, and throwing his cloak over it, as it fell, the wagon disappeared. Grasping it before touching the ground, he bent down and picked up the gold amulet, tucking it into a pocket. When he turned around, the dwarves and elves were speechless, as this was the first time they had ever seen the Trickster practice his skill, other than the mysterious boxes. Going to where the wagon had been, Aaro and Bor walked around the spot, scratching their heads. When Mirtza did the same with the oxen in the harness, their confusion multiplied. After mounting up, they headed back to the south road, excluding the rear guard.

Several hours later, the Dawnfalcons were waiting at the last guard post, which had made them turn around the day before. When Alron asked for a report, Babartin and Careel raised their hands, trying to form an answer, but both were speechless. Riding up to it, they all saw the four black-clad: dead. Alron cursed under his breath, ordering the bodies hidden in the forest and the other evidence destroyed, including killing the horses. When word made it back to their command, they would increase the patrols in this area to hunt down the beast, and those extra troops would likely arrive from the south, making it harder to travel in that direction. Sending the front guard ahead, he waited for the rest to meet up, and riding south, he reported to the Earth Daughter, making no comments about the strange situation, which repeated two hours later. Alron had them pick up the pace, but like a simple equation, their progress once again halted after the same number of hours. However, the Dawnfalcons advised on the next guard post: all still breathe.

In many ways, Alron hoped the beast that dined on black-clad soldiers would continue its nightly feasts, providing a distraction to help hide their presence. With its appetite satisfied, he needed to avoid those that the bear so eagerly sought. "Mayhap we can travel through the woods?"

"Such is not possible, as the forest is too thick," replied Babartin.

Lauren, riding up beside them, listened to Alron's update. "Earth Daughter, we can neither pass nor wait, and we lack other routes. These guards we must dispatch."

"No, they have already lost too many. If more die and by sword, it'll only get worse. Babartin, how far to the next guard post?"

"Quarter mile, Earth Daughter."

"Alron, let's ride up and look for a place to enter the forest. When we get inside, I'll help to conceal any noises and us. When we arrive at the other side, we'll be back on the road. If something goes wrong, then you can attack, but I think it would be better if they didn't receive reports that two-legged intruders with swords were present."

As they rode south, Lauren spotted a section of forest that looked promising, which she turned into. When everybody was off the road, she began humming, causing the branches to part and provide passage. As the ground became moist, it absorbed the sound of leaves rustling and dried branches breaking. It took forty-five minutes, longer than Alron liked, but he eventually saw the road. Allowing the front guard a ten-minute lead, they started south, but two hours later, Lauren once again encouraged assistance from the forest. When they made it to the road, Alron advised the front guard to find a camp for the night. If the pattern continued, they had less than two hours before finding another, and he wanted to camp exactly between the two.

Alron gathered the group together that night, advising on the current progress. He informed them that they would rest for two days, so Panry with the Dawnfalcons could head south to identify any threats, and upon their return, they would plan their next move. While not the best idea, Alron disliked playing hide-and-seek with the black-clad even less. He was hoping they might find a side trail, a less traveled route, or anything. With the Ironhouse brothers assigning themselves to guard duty, Alron gave strict orders: no fires or noise.

*******

In the morning, the three Earth Guards had already left when the group woke. Knowing they had a two-day breather, the mood in the camp changed, excluding Alron's.

Seventy days of incident-free travel, followed by twenty days of increasing opposition, Alron's concern was growing, much like the presence of the unknown soldiers. If he knew where he was going, the distance, it would help. If somebody knew he was coming and had sent out reserves, he would be less apprehensive, but he only knew one thing: protect and serve. The Earth Guard training had provided no instructions for a situation like this, and he suddenly realized that he had more in common with Lauren than originally thought. He spent his day high in a tree, allowing him to watch both directions of the road.

In the camp, Lauren found a secluded spot towards the back, as she needed time to think.

John wandered over to Ginger and began talking about her training. She explained how she tended the crops, and at the age of fifty, her training began, including how she felt out of place, as the other Earth Daughters were twelve to fifteen. At one point, John bent a budding a tree and asked her to fix it, but her efforts had no effect.

The only news Alron received that night was bad; patrols on the road every two hours. He went to bed without talking to anybody, hoping his men had found a safe hold for the night. The next day, he was again in the tree, watching the patrols ride north and south, presumably a result of the missing soldiers. He had hoped his men would bring much-needed good news, and well after the final sun set, with the forest shrouded in dark, Panry and the Dawnfalcons returned.

Hearing Alron greet them, it stirred Aaro, Bor, and Lauren from their tossing and turning, so all joined, wanting to hear the report first hand. Increased patrols and repeating guard posts, while inconvenient, were avoidable, however, two days south, a large fort blocked their passage, constructed in an open section of the forest. Fresh water was the reason for the location, as a river flowed beside it with only one bridge. Before Alron asked, Panry advised it was too deep and fast to ford, and while there may be spots, they would need time to check both directions.

Shaking his head, Alron could not believe the misfortune: sixteen guard posts and possibly the same number of patrols. Even if able to get by those in the next two days, an impassable river guarded by a fort blocked the route. Then, if they made it to the river unseen, it could take a week or more to find a place to cross, setting them back by over a month. Even though there was no timetable, every extra day spent in the forest increased the odds of making a mistake or worse.

"Panry, Careel, Babartin, I thank you. Your news is not good, but at least we now know that which waits for us. All need rest, Earth Daughter, so this night we shall spend here and make plans tomorrow."

Lauren remembered asking Alron what the trip south would be like, demanding the truth, and she recalled that one word: bad. Stepping in a pile of dog crap, that's bad. Maybe bad means something else in elf, like catastrophic or disastrous. She wandered over to John and Logan, telling them the news they would spend the night here before moving out the next day.

Late into the night, Logan woke to the bright moon overhead, or so he thought, but rubbing his forearms, he realized the truth. The guards at the front were unaware of the nocturnal activities in the camp, as Logan walked past Zack's empty bedroll into the forest. Wandering without purpose for an hour in the chilly night, when he found a large deadfall, he sat down to collect his thoughts. Reaching to a nearby tree, he touched the parched, brittle leaves, and running his hand along the ground, he caressed the dry debris, thinking of their current situation: a two-day ride through an enemy-infested forest and blocked by a fort and river. While lacking Alron's training, even he knew they had to find whatever it was they were looking for. Reaching up to the dry leaves in the tree, he uttered an apology. "Sorry, Mother but such is necessary. To save your children, your forest shall be sacrificed." Running his hands along the dry leaves, he caused small wisps of smoke to form, and pulling it back, flames appeared, and growing, they spread to others. Working its way to the crown of the tree, a gentle breeze blew the burning leaves onto others, spreading the fire. Glowing embers, large and small, floated down to the ground, and finding dry kindling, they embraced it. The winds intensified, helping to spread the fire, fueling and directing it. One breeze seemed to circulate through the burning trees, pulsating through the growing inferno like a heartbeat. When rising smoke encountered a thermocline, blocking the skyward ascent, it drifted south and east.

Logan observed the fire engulfing the forest for an hour, mesmerized by the show the dancing flames put on, watching smaller trees topple over and setting more on fire. In the middle, several remained unaffected, and he wondered what magic was in the Iron Wood trees. The massive green giants stood tall with bright orange fires dancing around them, painting a hard to forget image in his mind. With the southward journey of the smoke now set, he stood and headed back to the camp.

*******

Even though Alron woke early that morning, his eyes remained closed – until the smell of burning wood jerked him upright. Looking to the west, he saw the sky obscured by thick gray smoke tumbling over the forest. Running to the back of the camp, he climbed a tree, surprised by how close the fire was. Whistling, he caused the Earth Guards to jump into action, getting everybody on their feet. "Our flight is made worse, as the forest is ablaze! Shelter shall no longer be provided, so we must ride, now!"

Everybody saddled their mounts and headed out, as the smoke grew thicker. When on the road, Alron kept the rear and front guards close, so if they stumbled onto any patrols or guard posts, he would have all of his men to protect the Earth Daughter – and her friends. He was expecting the travel to be slow, but the smoke seemed to be thicker to the sides and above. Trying to find the right pace, he wanted them to be fast enough to take advantage of this event, but not so fast, that they would ride into a threat unprepared

As they approached where the first sentry post should be, he called for them to slow down, but Logan rode past both him and it. They heard the fear in the tethered black-clad horses that sensed the approaching fire, but the guards remained quiet and unseen by the group: silenced by fresh wounds from massive bear claws. At that moment, Alron realized the forest fire was a blessing, and Sister was providing the much-needed protection from the ever-vigilant presence of the unknown enemy. Whistling, they increased the pace following Logan. Several times Logan pulled his mount into the forest, waiting while coughing patrols of soldiers rode by, obscured in a veil of smoke. When Alron determined the suns would soon set, he rode up to Logan, saying they needed to make camp for the night.

"Not until we arrive at the river," replied Logan.

Falling back to the rest of the group, Alron advised they would ride all night with only the smoke obscured moon to guide them, and even though he had issues with the plan, they were making the best time of the recent journey. With the night being long, the riders were fatigued, and while the smoke failed to hinder their ride, like it did to the black-clad, some still found its way into their lungs and eyes. Hidden by the thick forest and smoke, the first sun scaled the horizon, pushing back the night. Alron was beside Logan when Panry rode up, and notifying them that the river and fort were close, he suggested finding a place to hide for the day.

"We need to get to the other side," replied Logan.

Digging their heels into the mounts, they continued to ride in the murky world until arriving at the clearing. Once there, Logan turned his horse east, following the forest edge until halted by a large river, twenty-feet wide. The current was fast and turbulent, and with the bottom being rough, the surface mirrored the reason for its discord. Dismounting, Logan rubbed the blue feather tattoo and approached the cold fast flowing water.

Even though the growing smoke cloaked the small group, Alron heard the fire getting closer, and looking to the west, the glowing flames burned brighter in the haze, as the fire had arrived.

Caressing the surface of the river, Logan dipped his hands into the cold water, making his fingers go numb. Reaching deeper into the frigid liquid, he immersed both feather tattoos, sensing the ice forming. At first, the flow was so great it swept any ice away with the current, but it soon gained a purchase. As the rest watched, large patches of thick ice anchored to both shores, and reaching out to the middle, they married together. With both sides now joined, Logan concentrated on the ice, making it thicker and wider, telling it to grow faster. While none were sure how long they watched, soon a ten-foot wide bridge was complete, measuring twelve-inches thick. Pulling his arms out, they were blue with cold, and blood now had difficulties circulating body warmth. Turning, trying to get up the bank, with his teeth chattering, Logan stumbled, unable to gain a handhold. Dismounting their stags, Alron and Panry grabbed his arms, dragging him up to the top of the riverbank. Jumping down, Alron tested the thickness of the ice, feeling it heave up and down, as the turbid currents trapped underneath complained of the unnatural state. With the surface being extremely slippery, he bent down, and pushing a slide on his elfin Earth Guard boots, small teeth extended from them, gifting much needed stability.

Calling out to everybody, Alron told all to dismount, as he knew the stags, ponies, elves, dwarves, and others should be able to cross, but the large black-clad mounts worried him the most. He called to the Earth Guards, the lightest, ordering them to cross first with the borrowed horses, as the ice bridge would be the thickest at present, and Alron knew he needed them to flee south once across. The slick surface, throbbing like an unseen heartbeat, made the horses skittish, causing them to bolt across as they dragged the elves behind. When they secured all the mounts, he called to Lauren and her friends, but not to Eric.

Horrified at the prospect of the crossing, but seeing Alron unmoving on the slick surface, Lauren was the first to step forward. The Earth Guard captain reached for her hand to help her across, and other elves calmly walked out onto the ice to guide her to the far side. One by one, with Alron in the middle, the bus mates crossed, but the surface was now slick, as small waves were breaking over the leading edge. He called to the Earth Guards, and they threw handfuls of gravel and dirt onto the ice bridge, trying to win back traction, as the rushing water underneath continued to thin the link. All struggled to cross, hoping enough ice remained, but when new traction landed on it, the river retaliated, washing most away.

Feeling the bridge heaving, Alron knew the ice was getting thinner, and after Ryan was across, the Ironhouse brothers lined up, however, none wanted to be first. Fire-breathing dragons, dark caves, frost beasts; these and more could not make a dwarf cringe in fear, but fast flowing cold water, it was a dwarf's nightmare realized. Running back across, Panry nudged or pushed each onto the thinning ice bridge, and Alron helped them to complete the journey to the other side. Placing their trust in the elves, the dwarves, so scared, never opened their eyes, but none would ever make mention of their reactions; only speaking of the bravery displayed.

Feeling the heave and sag of the ice bridge increase, with all across except Panry and Eric, Alron tossed a rope, which Panry tied around Eric's waist, before calmly walking back across the slick surface. Once on the other side, he handed the rope to the Ironhouse brothers, and when Eric stepped onto the bridge, Alron stepped off. With only a quarter of the distance crossed, Alron, hearing the deafening crack, saw the ice tip up and watched in shock as Eric went down. As Ironhouse pulled on the rope, each time Eric tried to grab the last remains of the ice bridge, it broke. The current, now freed, pushed him downstream. When Bor whistled, his brothers pulled harder, but as Eric had so much drag, the river threatened to win the battle. Grabbing the end of the rope, Panry tied it to a horse saddle before smacking its rump. This action pulled Eric out of the fast current, which then pushed him to the river edge, and he remembered how much he hated cold water. The Ironhouse brothers, running to his aid, pulled him from the river and up the bank.

Ordering everybody mounted, Alron needed a place to hide, as it was getting brighter, making them easily seen. Turning, he saw the reason for the increased illumination, as the fire, having jumped the river, had found the wooden fort that it now consumed. Forcing them into the forest, he needed a safe place to hide because Eric and Logan required warmth. Driving them deeper into the thick woods, Lauren tried to sing, engaging the forest to lend support, but she kept seeing Logan shivering, which interrupted her concentration. Realizing the perfect spot was unattainable, Alron called for all to stop and ordered the dwarves to take ax to tree, making them a camp. As they made camp, the rest tried to warm Logan and Eric.

Late in the day, Alron sent the Earth Guards out, who had not only managed to get something to eat but also a short nap, to replace the Ironhouse brothers, thinking they would be tired by now.

When all was quiet, Lauren wondered over to Alron, "Are the rest of the days going to be like this?"

"Earth Daughter, I know not that which lies ahead, and I barely understand that which lies behind. Rest here we shall this night, and tomorrow, we shall make fresh plans."

Waiting until after Logan and Eric awoke, ensuring both felt better, Alron and Panry took the Dawnfalcons out to the guard posts, who would stand guard next. As the Ironhouse brothers had never returned, he was curious why.

Aaro and Bor had declined to leave, as they were delighted to see the black-clad army fighting the losing battle with the fire destroying the fort. From their hidden vantage point, they took turns pointing out the misfortunate: seeing a burning log fall onto a black-clad soldier, or watching one catch on fire, who jumped into the river only to be swept downstream to a watery death. Being dark, the fortress still burnt bright, and that was when Aaro pointed out the pale shape materializing in the dark night: the white bear that hunted black. Watching in amazement, it would sneak up on the unsuspecting soldiers, and pouncing, it ripped them to shreds. Prowling in and out of shadows, it disappeared or materialized at will, and several times, thinking the black-clad had it trapped, they saw it appear behind the soldiers from a different shadow. Throughout the night, more troops arrived from the south to help with the fire, and as for the frost bear, it greeted all with an undying enthusiasm. However, their responses were more of a surprised indifference, as their warm lifeblood flowed into the fast cold river.

As they watched, the suns began to rise, which painted the sky pink. The white bear, now painted red, retreated from the light and back into the shadows. When replacement guards arrived to relieve them, Alron, Aaro, and Bor, who still had a hard time believing what they had seen, returned to their camp, finding Eric and Logan in better spirits.

As they saddled the mounts, Mirtza transformed his wagon, which he placed in a pocket, and they walked to the forest edge to meet the front guard.

Reunited, Alron gave the Dawnfalcons a fifteen-minute head start, but he advised that no rear guard would follow, as none could cross the burnt bridge, and any stragglers at the fort had their hands full with trying to either rebuild or salvage what they could. As a result, they rode for a week before seeing the first threat.

### Chapter 27

The thought of playing hide-and-seek failed to sit well with Lauren, so she asked Alron to watch the road that night, seeing if they spotted any patrols. In the morning, he advised of the quiet.

"Let's travel at night," began Lauren, "so we can move faster. If we have to keep stopping to thread our way through the forest unseen, we lose too much time. We have traveled a great distance, but there has to be an end to this madness: a pass through the mountains, a freehold, or something soon. I found Night Berries where I discovered my staff to help conceal us, and I can make the ground soft to absorb the sounds of the horses. I'm tired of playing cat and mouse, so we need to outfox them."

Seeing the stress on the entire party, he knew everybody was tense. Realizing that Lauren was right, he also thought they should be getting close to something. After advising the group to rest for the day, he added details about traveling at night. As the last sun set, they disappeared into the dark. When they found the waiting front guard, Lauren would crush one of the Night Berries onto her staff, surrounding them in darkness, diluting their appearance, and melding them into the night. Singing to the road, she made it soft so that no beast made a sound. When a sufficient distance had passed, she wrapped a cloth around the night berry juice, trapping the darkness, and picking up speed, they remained wary of the next threat. After traveling for six or seven nights this way, they rested for one. When Alron sensed the tension building, he advised the front guard to find a camp location deep in the forest. For that one day, they refreshed their tired bodies.

Alron had never heard of so many pushed so hard, for so long, and under such threatening conditions. In some ways, it surprised him that they had traveled so far south, given the size of the enemy; an enemy he had underestimated. To have such an extensive network of guards, thankfully poorly trained, he was unclear of what purpose they served. Much like the frost bear, the army's deployment made no sense.

Continuing the night travels for a month, they covered a tremendous distance undiscovered, but there still seemed to be no end. Alron was becoming more concerned, as the guard posts rode by in the night were changing. While the first ones only had four soldiers, into the second week of night travel, the numbers increased: eight, sixteen, and then more. At some, with so many talking or snoring, he could not guess the number concealed in the dark. The most disturbing, in the last week they had ridden by two numbering over one-hundred. The Earth Daughter may have hidden them from the black-clad, but he was glad she could not see what he heard in the black night.

When Alron called for a break, they followed the front guard deep into the forest. Stripping the mounts, they looked for a dark shadow to mimic night, hoping it would help them sleep. Late in the day, Alron woke to check on the Earth Guards who had been watching the road. Increased movements, both in frequency and size, was not the news he was hoping to hear. Wandering back to the camp, he tried to think of options, but with only one road, an intensifying opponent, and lacking knowledge of what the black-clad were doing, he was uncertain if any options existed. While he could capture a prisoner, making them talk, that usually became noisy. Now desperate, he sent the Dawnfalcons out to gather information.

Returning to the camp, he saw Lauren nibbling on a bun. Having given up on trying to keep her hair neat, she had tied a large purple ribbon around it, and the only one who did not look out of place was Logan. With that realization, he sat down beside her. No smile greeted him, as her emotions were more like Zack – or the lack of them.

"Earth Daughter, all are weary, so camp here for seven days I suggest. Dawnfalcons, I shall task them to find news of any kind. We all need rest, as not any longer can we keep this pace." Lauren, too exhausted to answer, nodded in agreement.

If he pushed well-trained men hard, Alron knew they would respond, doing whatever he asked. However, if you pushed too hard, it was like feeding meat into a sausage grinder, resulting in similar results – a bloody mess. When he woke, the Dawnfalcons were absent, presumably having left hours before the first sunrise.

He spent his days pacing the camp or watching the road while the group rested. He consulted with the Ironhouse brothers, asked Logan if Sister had any news, checked with Lauren to see if she had any thoughts, and prayed to Mother, but silence was his only answer. Waking one morning, he saw the Dawnfalcons sleeping, and wanting to wake them, he needed to hear the report, but fighting the urge, he let them sleep. He saw Lauren sitting beside the fire with her hands wrapped around a cup of hot bean juice, inhaling it deeply. Gingaar was behind her, brushing her hair and smiling with purpose. Grabbing a mug, he joined her. "How is Earth Daughter this morning?"

"She feels better, but next time we camp this long, can you arrange a stream or pond, as I need to bathe."

"Elf eyesight and hearing are keen, as is my sense of smell, and all could use such." Even though Lauren was unsure if she had been insulted, Gingaar smacked him on the back of the head, causing Lauren to smile.

"I see your men have returned. Did they report to you last night?"

"When they returned, sleep I told both."

"They toss and turn. Something disturbs them, and I fear the words they'll speak, so make sure I'm present when they do, as I need to hear the truth." While she may have wanted to hear it, he had no interest in it and instead, wanted somebody to lie to him, telling him it would end the next day.

The news was devastating; a major force camped in a mountain valley and with troop movements increasing, the road was now unsafe. Their trip had been slow, being mainly in the forest, as the road was no longer safe. As they finished their short report, both were glancing at the frying pan, and after Alron nodded, he left to check on the road, having no interest in the Earth Daughter hearing his curses. When his ears swiveled backwards, they heard soft footsteps, so he bit down on his tongue to silence his frustration.

"What about the forest? Can't we go through it?"

"We have checked the forest behind, but such is not passable."

"What about the forest on the other side of the road?"

Alron stopped, as if he had walked into an invisible tree. Turning, he headed back to the camp, and calling to Cethail and Erust, he told them to scout the forest east of the road for two days south before returning.

Four days later, they reported the forest was passable, and while spots were difficult, having gullies with steep slopes, they felt confident travel for a week or more south was possible. While challenging, it would also be safe. When Alron announced they would move out the next day, all were anxious to get to wherever they were going.

With all being bored, nobody was sure what was worse: traveling or sitting around. It was dark when they crossed the road, waiting for the rear guard to cover their tracks before entering deeper into the forest. After traveling a mile deep into it, they turned south, but it was hard to maintain the desired direction without a road to follow, as they attempted to thread the easiest path through the tall trees. Even though the pace was slower, the absence of threats made it a better route. For seven days, they traveled through the forest, hearing nothing but the woodland creatures. Heading back to the road, when found, they watched it for a day, finding the patrols diminished. Waiting for the night, they took to the road, hoping Lauren's songs would shield them past any guard posts.

*******

For a month, they traveled south this way: sleeping during the day, riding at night. However, all wondered if they had ridden by a mountain pass, as the black-clad presence was less, which made them wonder even more if they had missed something. Even though they should have taken a break day, all wanted the journey south to end. Tired and undernourished, they voted to push on, and while Alron knew better, fatigue clouded his mind.

Living in the mountains, dwarves had no words for mistake, as working deep in the mines, there was no room for one. However, they had a word for those who made them, and that word was dead.

The Earth Guards had many words for mistakes, drilling them into the young so they would never forget. As he was no longer young, Alron had forgotten the last: tired. Mistakes happen; words said by those who embrace failure; never spoken by Earth Guard. Stopping that morning, Mirtza was exhausted, so the guard bats slept in his pocket. As everybody spread out, they sought the darkest shadows to block the rising suns; mistakes two and three.

Late in the evening, staring up at the dark sky, Alron tried to push himself up, but wanting more sleep, he rolled over. Hearing stags crashing through the brush, his brain, clouded with sleep, instantly recognized the warning, and the Earth Guard instincts kicked in. Standing without realizing it, he was whistling orders to the elves.

Seeing the Earth Guard stags scramble into the camp, he raced to the Earth Daughter; protect and serve. Grabbing her, he leaped into the darkest shadows of the forest, and even though she tried to fight, he refused to let go, clamping his hand over her mouth so she did not scream.

[Threat imminent. Analysis: Outnumbered. Status: System Configuration Incomplete. Defensive Options: None. Offensive Options: None: Mode: Self-Preservation. Select. Implement]

Trained to wake to the alarm whistles, the Earth Guards scrambled, blending into the forest. Dwarves, understanding the new commotion, grabbed their axes before seeking the dark to evaluate the situation.

Horses, silent horses, appeared in the clearing, crashing through the brush. Black-clad men raced to where the others slept, and leaping off the mounts, they attacked. Lauren cringed when she heard the blows land on the others, and even though she struggled, Alron held her tight. In a matter of minutes, John, Logan, Eric, Mirtza, and Zack were both unconscious and tied up. When a wagon with a metal jail cell entered the clearing, they threw the limp bodies into the back, slamming the door shut. At that moment, Alron's worst nightmare woke; capture.

The black-clad leader spoke. "Others slept here! Find them! Turn over every rock! Look in every tree! Gather their possessions and take them with us!"

When a second wagon arrived, they tied the ponies and horses to it. Lauren watched horrified as black-clad soldiers gathered up their assorted possessions, because in the middle of the occupied camp, her tri-wood staff lay beside the unoccupied bedroll. While unaware of its defensive mechanism, it had become her security blanket, and her greatest fear was thinking one might pick it up, or worse yet, break it. When another wagon appeared, they loaded the assorted possessions, including Mirtza's cloak. While they may have thought it a worthless garment, one pocket secured the magical tokens, including his wagon, which held the sword and armor gifted to Eric.

Even though the invading soldiers searched the area for an hour, looking for anything, they found nothing. While they had captured fourteen mounts, eighteen saddles, and seventeen bedrolls, the number tied up only equaled five. However, they failed to understand they now searched for elves, or more specifically, Earth Guards. As a result, their efforts were like trying to find shadows at noon in a desert. Elf and forest; it was hard to determine where one began and the other ended. The elves: no sounds would they make nor leave any tracks, as they would dance with the moving shadows, blending in with them. Gifted with elfin magic, their coats and pants were chameleon-like, changing colors and hues as necessary: black, green, gray, and more. Their boots, enchanted with the same, would never embrace the ground. If you were good, you might spot an oddity about the deer tracks, but you would never realize elves had passed.

As Lauren bit into Alron's hand, he cursed under his breath, and while only trying to get his attention, she already had it, as he was painfully aware of her forced silent protests.

Like all other times, the first thing that dwarves did, before bedding down, was look for an advantage. Being caught unprepared in the open never ended well for the short fighters, so preparing for the worst, they always slept close to a hide; someplace to safely evaluate any unforeseen event. It may have been a wolf den they made bigger, a hollowed out tree or deadfall, or possibly under the foulest of plants; spots none would look. From the darkest of shadows, six dwarves watched the black-clad men search their camp, and seeing them steal the well-trained war ponies, they took great delight when one bit a soldier, cringing when he struck back. If it had just been the Ironhouse brothers, they would have attacked, and while not considering twenty-four against six a fair test, the soldiers would never have lasted long enough to call for reinforcements. However, knowing this was not their fight, they would wait. They were dwarves, and patience flowed through their blood, as it took generations for a clan to claim a mountain to be their home. Revenge, it could wait a few days.

After an hour, the soldiers left, but all remained hidden. Alron, holding his breath, realized not all was right, aside from the pain caused by Lauren's teeth. His deer-like ears heard the shuffling feet, including the dried leaves and branches crunching under them. When she clamped down on his outer hand, his eyes rolled back, as he fought to hold in his pain. It took an hour for the hidden soldiers to grow bored, emerging from their concealment and calling for mounts. Remaining motionless, Alron's lip now shared the same pain as his hand, but he still had doubts, because if the threats were gone, the stags would have returned. After another hour, the last two dozen black-clad soldiers stumbled out of the shadows, rubbing cramped legs before heading out to the road. After hearing nothing for an hour, he softly whistled into the night. Lauren, still held tightly, never heard the quiet sound calling to the Dawnfalcons. After their deer-like ears swiveled, locating him, they appeared several minutes later. He sent them to do a perimeter search, warning that dwarves still hid, who should not be surprised. With the air now free of the soldier's scent, the stags wandered back into the camp. Ensuring their own safety, it took over an hour for the Dawnfalcons to work their way around the large clearing. As for finding the dwarves, if not for the highly active elfin hearing and sense of smell, they would have remained unfound. Advising the elves and dwarves of Alron's location, when they felt confident no threats remained, the Dawnfalcons signaled the all clear.

The hidden dwarves and elves made their way to Alron, and once all had gathered, he addressed them, "Explain that which just happened! How is such failure even possible for Earth Guard!"

"Perchance magic shielded their mounts, as not any sounds did they make," replied Erust. "Should the moon be dark, unseen they would have remained. Too close they were, so our stags we sent to warn all."

"Such is the truth they speak," advised Panry, "as hear them you did not, yet see them all did."

While it may have sounded like anger, Alron was more upset that it happened under his command. "I realize you both speak the truth." Then he called to the Dawnfalcons, "Get your mounts to follow the wagon. You shall mark the trail to advise of progress and warn of threats, so our journey is both swift and safe. Be cautious, but you shall not stop until such is found. Leave now!" Taking to their unsaddled stags, they headed into the night, following the still-fresh wagon tracks.

[Threat Expired. Disengage Cloak.] Ryan wandered over to the group, wiping the sleep from his eyes, "What's going on?"

Amazement filled Alron's eyes, "How is such possible? Where did you hide?"

Ryan was puzzled, "Hide? Hide from what?"

"How could you not see that which just happened?"

"Look, I heard you barking orders, rolled over, and saw everybody standing here. Now, what's happening?"

"No, such I do not believe."

He pointed to his bedroll, "Look! I was sleeping over there. I woke up and came over here."

Everybody looked at the lone bedroll in disbelief. Alron turned to the remaining elves, questioning them with his glaring stare.

"Such was not there a minute ago," protested Panry. "Not any bedrolls were there, as the black-clad gathered all."

Lauren, with her staff in hand, grabbed Alron by the shoulder. "He isn't the problem. What're we going to do?"

"The Dawnfalcons shall follow the wagon tracks," he replied. "We shall acquire new mounts and follow. Earth Daughter, soon you shall be reunited with your friends."

Bor's thick voice growled in the night, "No longer is this a game."

"We shall do that which we need to, but first, we need to embrace actions that provide the greatest speed."

Still confused, Ryan went over to Gingaar, who explained the recent events. As she was an elf and had been around the Earth Guards for a long time, she had recognized their simple warning, taking cover in a tree. While not protected by the enchanted Earth Guard clothing, her presence had remained unseen.

### Chapter 28

After Alron had mounted his stag, he helped Lauren up. "Panry, mounts we need, so suitable donations you shall find." Turning to the rest, he advised, "Until we can arrange transportation, you shall have to walk." Elves mounted on stags led the path back to the road, as Gingaar, Ryan, and the dwarves jogged in double time to keep up, knowing in a short time somebody would unwillingly donate new mounts.

As they rode along in the dark, Lauren whispered, "What happened?"

"Earth Daughter, months of five we traveled; three or more in the black-clad country. Mayhap Mirtza did not deploy his magic guard bats, and we should have camped tighter. Last month, only by night did we travel, and we should have rested more, but all were weary, and mistakes were made." Mother, please forgive myself, as such words you thought I would never speak. "A terrible price we have paid."

"Are we going to find them? They left a long time ago. Will the elves be able to follow the wagon in the dark?"

"Earth Daughter, I know you worry, but the Dawnfalcons can track blindfolded. When the black-clad donate new mounts, we shall decrease their lead, and as such, your friends shall soon be at your side. Now, please, be quiet, as I need to listen for threats."

She sat on the back of the stag in silence, thinking about the horrific attack on her brother and friends.

It had taken less than an hour before Panry returned, "Sentry station, half a mile ahead."

As Alron was about to dispatch two elves, he heard Bor's thick, deep voice, "Dismount you should not. Thank them for the horses lent, dwarf will."

Realizing there was no sense in arguing, he nodded, as the Ironhouse brothers would be extremely efficient, especially with the advantage in darkness. "Make sure all mounts are at roadside upon our arrival."

The dwarves silently ran down the road, arriving at the guard post where four slept around a fire. Bor signaled to Hakk, Gor, Fen, and Fodu, as this was the first opportunity to avenge their father's death. Those dressed in black never saw the diminutive figures with the huge axes step out of the shadows. While the soldiers felt nothing, the four Ironhouse brothers finally felt satisfaction, wishing for more so it would last longer. Even though none considered it a fair fight, they had more pressing matters to attend to.

As the Ironhouse brothers were adjusting the saddles and stirrups, Alron arrived with the others. The six dwarves mounted three of the new horses, and Ryan with Gingaar shared the last. Having increased the pace, after an hour of travel, they found Panry waiting. Before he asked, the Ironhouse brothers dismounted to extend dwarven hospitality to the guard station, and by the time the rest showed up, the brothers were adjusting the new saddles.

As the group gathered speed, Cethail Highbreeze took the lead position, sniffing out the guard stations, but with two outposts missing, Lauren was hesitant to raise any more red flags. Much to the dwarf's disappointment, she would sing them through the dark forest when they discovered another. The detours took longer than Alron liked, but he agreed that the number of missing bodies would heighten the enemy's curiosity. With dawn approaching, he instructed the front guard to find a camp, lacking any desire to travel the road in daylight. He was surprised they had failed to find their captured friends, but he also realized the guard posts would provide little hindrance to the jail cart. Without food or bedrolls, they soon realized camp was the wrong name for the clearing where they stood.

When Ryan saw her looking for a comfortable place to sleep, he walked over, handing her his bedroll. "Here, you can have mine."

Accepting it, instinctively she twirled the faded purple strands of hair. "Thank you. Wait!" Lauren recalled what Logan had said; about how she should speak with him, and that there was no way to shun his presence here, "We should talk."

Avoiding her for almost a year, he did not know what to say, and the concern for the missing friends was present on her face. "We'll get them back, and they'll be okay."

Worrying about Logan and the others, she was at odds with herself, talking to the one person she cared for the least. If they had only captured Ryan, would I have advised the elves and dwarves against saving him? "Was it my fault they were captured? What happens if we can't find them? What if we find them," and then her voice became a whisper, "but it's too late?"

"You can't think like that. It wasn't anybody's fault. Everybody voted to keep riding hard, and everybody was tired. Stuff—"

"If I'm supposed to be the leader, shouldn't I have vetoed the vote and ordered us to rest?"

"From what John said, you're supposed to lead the search to find the people who fled, including help lead them against the army. While you may be the main lead, the entire responsibility doesn't rest solely on your shoulders, as other people have roles in this. Gingaar said the horses didn't make any noise, so that means they used magic. Even if we had rested, the same result would have happened. You can't play the blame game, wondering if you did something different, what would've happened. Right now, we could've done a million things differently, but not one of them can take us back. It only creates doubt, making you re-live the past; making it worse. Place your faith in this Earth Guard of yours and the Ironhouse brothers. They aren't worried about what has happened, as their concern is for what to do next, moving forward, not backwards. I'm sure Eric will give them a run for their money, and Logan has done some funky stuff lately, so don't give up. Don't dwell in the past, as it'll trap you and never let you leave, but you already know that. Now get some sleep, as I'm sure that tomorrow will be a grueling day." Ryan searched for a dark tree to crawl under, hoping the image of Lauren's face would not bring back the nightmares of Samantha.

I need to thank Logan... if we ever find him. Taking the bedroll, she looked around for a soft spot to think and sleep.

Alron made sure all bedded down closer together, and that each Earth Guard took a shift watching over the camp. However, not one would get a good night's sleep, as the images of silent horses trampled their dreams, just as they had crashed into the camp the night before.

*******

Opening his eyes again, Eric felt the sting from a fresh slap to his face and struggled against the ropes. The man in black was yelling at him again – or still. With his head spinning, he had lost track of time.

"Where are your friends? Where were you going?"

"What?" A punch to his ribs made him groan in pain.

Again, the black-clad soldier yelled at him, "Where are your friends? Where were you going?"

Eric, trying to speak, received another punch to the ribs, causing him to inhale his words.

"Where are your friends? Where were you going?"

"I don't know." When a hard object hit his hand, everything went black.

*******

"I told you to bring me the little one."

As he opened his eyes, Zack heard the short reply; He wet himself when I approached and fainted.

"Where are your friends? Where were you going?"

"What?" A hard slap stung Zack's face.

"Where are your friends? Where were you going?"

"Where am I?" His chest exploded in pain.

The interrogator screamed at him, "Where are your friends? Where were you going?"

"Why?" After another hard slap hit his face, he yelled back. "Dude! Stop hitting me." Then he felt his nose break, "MAN, THAT HURT. STOP IT, YOU BASTARD!"

"Where are your friends? Where are you going?"

"Who?"

Somebody grabbed him by his long dark hair, "Tell me something, vermin, or I will make you into the girl you look like."

"That hurts, Dude!" His eyes were watering, but through blurred vision, he saw a knife and tried to move his head back. Feeling the blade dragged across his scalp, warm blood ran down his forehead. Screaming when the knife cut him a second time, salty blood trickled into his mouth, and someone dropped two handfuls of hair into his lap.

"Tell us what we want to know, girl, or we will cut off more than your hair."

"You're a sick man and need help!" After a punch, his inner ear bones heard the nauseating crack of breaking bones around his eye socket, before everything turned black.

*******

Mirtza not only lost count of the number of times he had blacked out, but also of the numerous methods used to wake him. A hot iron poking into his leg caused him to shriek.

"What were you doing? Where were you going?"

Trying to catch his breath, when the hot iron touched his leg, he screamed.

"What were you doing? Where were you going?"

"I do not know!" Feeling the heat strike his neck, all went black.

*******

In the morning, after Panry traveled into the forest, he returned with a large handful of dirty roots, small berries, and a few other plants.

Gor looked at the raw food, "Food for trap, trap rabbit, and cook it I will."

"This is our breakfast, and no meat or fire shall you have," advised Panry.

"Wrong. Food for rabbit, not dwarf."

Alron sighed, "Today, dwarf shall eat like elf, so please share." The meal, if it could be called that, did little to satisfy the group.

The entire party waited until nightfall before continuing their southbound journey. Alron had sent Erust Huntinghawk to scout before the last sun had set, looking for the trail marks left by the Dawnfalcons. Two hours into the journey, he waited for them, reporting a sentry post a half-mile ahead, and numerous subtle signs that the Earth Guard had passed this way. It pleased Alron to know the trail was still warm.

Once again, Lauren sang to the night, purchasing passage through the dark woods, as they slipped by the sentry posts. As the rising sun eroded the night, they once again took refuge far from the road.

*******

Opening his eyes, Eric was unsure why his face hurt. When pain shot from his hand to his brain, he screamed. Focusing his eyes, he saw John hanging from chains. To his horror, he saw a whip crack across his back, making them both scream.

Somebody grabbed his face, "Where were you going?"

"What the hell are you doing this for?"

A man in black leaned forward, applying pressure to Eric's hand, which rocketed pain signals into his brain. "Do you remember yesterday? Today will be worse for you and your misfits. Where were you going?"

"What the hell?" Trying to push the pain aside, he needed to make sense of what was happening. Again, hearing John scream, he saw the blood running down his back, "Stop, what do you want to know?"

"Tell us who you were with. Where you were going? What you were doing?"

"We were doing nothing! We were going nowhere!" He heard John scream again.

The man in black smiled, "He is little and won't be able to handle much more of this."

Receiving a punch to his ribs, Eric sensed several break, making him gasp for air. "What do you want to know?"

"What were you doing? Where were you going?"

He screamed back, "I don't know! We only followed!"

The angry interrogator became livid, "LIES!"

John screamed.

When a heavy object hit Eric's arm, he knew the bone broke.

"We have a wager on how much the little one can withstand, and I said he will not last the day."

After another blow to Eric's forearm, he felt the small bone break, and all went dark.

*******

A hard sting to his face woke Zack.

"So, you are not a girl."

"What?" His nightmare was back.

"Are you confused? So are we."

After he had screamed, he saw the iron poker put back into the fire.

"What were you doing? Where were you going?"

Zack shouted obscenities at them, which resulted in three hard slaps to his face. During one assault, a ring dug huge gouges into his skin, resulting in blood trickling into his mouth. While he always found it difficult to respect any authority, this hardly seemed to be the time to break with old habits. Screaming the foulest curses, a metal bar crashed against his lower legs, causing the sensation in his feet to disappear, and darkness embraced him.

*******

Mirtza continued to scream as they pulled his hand out of the boiling water. After stuffing a blood-soaked rag in his mouth, they dragged a red-hot iron across his chest, causing him to bite down on the gag.

"You will tell us what you were doing." Again and again, the red-hot iron made his chest hairs burn, turning his white skin into red blisters. A man in black pulled the rag out of his mouth.

Mirtza gasped for breath, "I do not know anything!"

"Tell us something!"

He gathered the last of his will, "Your mother visited our farm often, and she came to have sex with our pigs," and then he spat at the soldier. The response was quick, painful, and when he felt his ribs break, everything faded to black.

*******

With the suns setting, the rescue party was once again on the move, avoiding sentry posts at every turn. They traveled fast throughout the night, wondering how much longer before they found their friends.

##### 

### Chapter 29

It was dark when Zack stirred. Opening his good eye, the other remained closed, bruised and bloated with fluids. Through the bars, he saw a candle burning on a desk, and he felt the fresh breeze blowing in through a window, but it did little to lessen the stench inside the cell. As the sleep faded away, his brain interpreted the signals sent from within his body. Pain flooded over him, as if someone had broken a dam to release all the unconsumed hurt, and he screamed. Touching the chains that were holding him up, he tried to stand, but his efforts only created increased sensations of anguish that crashed into him, and sweat, tinged with the tangy taste of salty blood, fell onto his lips. Scanning the cell with blurred vision, he saw Eric hanging beside him, who looked like a football team had used him for tackling practice. In the far corner, he saw a pile of clothing on the floor, and focusing his uninjured eye, he realized it was Logan. Something resembling a piece of raw meat hung to his left; another body? Vaguely remembering the last few days, he recalled the pain, the beatings, and the torture. What's happening? Fixating his gaze on the candle, he saw the light reflected on a set of keys when the flame swayed in the gentle breeze. "Got to get out of here." Trying to move, pain ripped through his body, "Mother fu...." Then everything went black.

Me no like. ("What's happening?") Pain. Hurt. ("Who's that?") Revenge. ("Where are you?") Zack sensed himself falling to the floor, but it was different. ("What's happening?") Keys? Seeing the bars approach, he watched them go by, hearing himself scream: No, no, no, no, no. He saw the top of the desk, the candle, and the keys, and then he was back on the floor, observing the bars approaching, which he passed through. Again, he heard himself scream; Never again, never again, never again!

Opening his eyes, Zack was lying on the cell floor, naked. Noticing a pile of clothes, he reached for them, but they were not his: it was Mirtza. Finding his own, he began to dress. Losing my mind, losing my mind, never again, have to stop, live clean, no, no, no. As he was pulling on his pants, he bumped metal: the keys. How did they get in here? Man, too much, too fast. I'm losing my mind. What's happening? When he stood, his legs were free of pain, and he could see out of both eyes. Running his hands through his long black hair – it was all there. What the hell is happening? Taking the keys to the cell door, after opening it, he headed to Eric, trying each key in the lock until he crashed to the floor. Bending down, Zack gently slapped him, "Okay, football captain. You need to get up, do your hero thing, big cheers, come on, come on, come on!" When Eric failed to respond, he crawled over to release Mirtza from his chains and tried to shake him awake. "Okay, magic man, wake up. Zap the bad guys, make the walls disappear, come on, come on, come on." As he stood, he realized what was hanging to the left of him: it was John. Wrapping his arms around him, he unlocked the chains, lowering the motionless body to the ground. "What the hell is happening?" He heard a noise at the door. No, no, no, go away, and then he felt an odd sensation. Oh, crap!

He sensed that he was hiding under the desk. Door opens. ("What's happening?") Fresh. ("What?") Bad man. Pain. Hurt. He saw the black-clad man throw himself forward. ("NO, NO, NO, NO.") He tasted the blood, swallowed flesh, and saw the door close.

Then Zack was naked on the floor again. I'm losing my mind. This has to stop. He saw the dead body by the door with the throat missing. "No! This isn't happening, no, no, no, never again, no more, no, no, no." Quickly dressing again, he wondered how his clothes kept falling off. "What's wrong with me? The dreams have never been this bad. Got to get clean, stay clean, no more, never!" Seeing the huge sword outside the cell, he retrieved it, leaving it in the sheath, and placed it in Eric's hand, "Okay, Mr. Sword Guy, Mr. Terribly Mad Sword Guy. He needs your help. You two need to do your hero stuff. Kill the bad guys, free us, come on, come on, come on." Hearing a noise, it was followed by his silent scream, Nooo!

The disembodied Zack watched the door open. ("What's happening?") While visions filled his mind, they were not from his own eyes, as another black-clad soldier seemed to throw himself forward. Fresh. Tasting the blood, Zack wanted to gag. Punish ("What now?") Hall. More Fresh. The hall advanced upon him. Many. Sleeping. ("What's happening?") Seeing the door open, he saw the blood erupt over the white fur, and watching, he saw the terror in their eyes.

Zack awoke naked, again, "Sons of a bitch!" Surveying the room, mauled, gored, crushed, and ripped open bodies filled it. Slipping on the slick red surface, he fell face-first onto the wet red floor. Pushing himself up, he fell onto his back, his thick hair soaking up the warm blood, which ran down his face. Crawling on all fours across the floor, wanting to vomit, he was afraid of what might come up. Listening to the door for a moment before opening it, he spotted the trail of bloody paw prints in the hall, which he followed to where they disappeared behind a door. Swinging it open, he saw the cell containing his unconscious friends and absent clothes. "This has to stop. They've never been this real." After getting dressed, he tried again to wake Eric or the sword, but neither responded. Going back out to the hall, he made his way past the room where he woke last, and flowing out from beneath the door, a pool of crimson blood. Continuing down the hall, he found larger empty cells that smelled appalling, and then there was a door with sunlight visible at the bottom. Carefully turning the handle, he opened it. He was outside, and there was a corral with horses, ponies, and wagons beside it. "Okay, so I drag them down here and put them in a wagon, then, then, then, what the hell am I supposed to do..." Hearing a noise, he froze. Even though the breeze carried a recognizable scent, he sensed the strange feeling arriving. NO, NO, NO, NO!

Stepping around the corner, Alron held his finger to his lips, suggesting quiet.

"Thank you, Jesus!" Zack fell to his knees and sobbed. "Thank you, Buddha! Thank you all! Whatever you want, name it. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

When elves appeared from the far side, Alron signaled for them to move in. As dwarves kicked in the front door, rushing the building, Lauren moved to comfort and quiet Zack, seeing the blood dripping from his hair.

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Zack, you're hurt. You're covered in blood, so let me help."

"It isn't mine. I slipped in some. I'm fine, but get me away from this damned place!"

Not only did Aaro signal the all clear, but Alron also heard the excited talk from inside the building. When the elves entered from the rear, they saw the large cells and bloody barracks, uncertain of what had happened. As well, they saw the bloody tracks in the hall: midlander, wolf, and bear. Meeting the dwarves in the cell room where the tracks seemed to start from, even if unconscious, it relieved all to find Lauren's friends.

"Do all still breathe?" asked Alron.

"Breathe yes," replied Fodu. "Know for how much longer, I do not."

"How can such be possible?" asked Alron, seeing the dead soldiers on the floor, who both had their throats savagely ripped out.

"Our friend, white that hunts black," suggested Bor, "brought friends?"

Knowing there was no time to investigate a new mystery, Alron shouted out his orders. "Wagons and such wait out back. Load the injured, as there is no need to waste any time here. We need to leave now!" Seeing them pick up Eric, he could not believe the extent of the damage. Mother, please, save her friends.

The Earth Guards and the Ironhouse brothers carried out the unconscious. At the back, Ryan had pushed the wagon so that the tailgate faced the door. As he was hitching a set of horses, Lauren helped Zack, who was still in shock, into it. When Gingaar offered to retrieve their possessions, Alron refused her entrance, knowing the sights seen would give him nightmares for days. However, he was unable to deny entrance to the Earth Daughter, and after entering, she wandered up the hall as they were bringing John out. Viewing the bloodied rooms and bodies, she was unable to comprehend that amount of carnage, and returning to the wagon, her face was white, drained of blood, much like the black-clad corpses.

With Gingaar in the front of the wagon, wiping the blood off Zack, they laid the four motionless bodies in the back, and after placing in their stolen possessions, closed the gate. Lauren stared at the four battered bodies, dumbfounded by the brutal horror frozen in her vision, but it was broken when she heard Panry and Alron arguing about their destination.

"To the woods," she yelled out. "They'll be looking for us on the road. I'll need time to heal them. Now, move!"

"Tracks shall be left, and such can easily be followed," protested Alron.

"I'll deal with those, but we need to hide where they'll never look for us." Lauren paused, as the color that had returned to her face once again drained from it. "What's that horrible smell? Is it what I think it is?"

Zack pointed to the side yard, which extended from the back of the small prison. A large barren patch of land, several hundred yards long, stretched to the north, and hundreds of vultures sprouted from it like an obscene crop, feeding on the dead.

"Ryan, take us into the woods," ordered Lauren.

HERE ENDS BOOK ONE OF

THE ANTI-MATTER CHRONICLES.

BOOK TWO "Sky Elf" IS NOW AVAILABLE

(I apologize for the cliffhanger ending, but there was no other place to break the books into a trilogy. However, I did want the characters regrouped and safe, so you would not be wondering about their safety.)

To the readers:

Taken from It's a Wonderful Life: "Look, Daddy. Teacher says, every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings."

Amazon provides an Author Dashboard to track book activity. Every time an author sees a book read, absent of a review, a small piece of their creativity dies. However, reviews are like bells ringing to us, as they give us flight.

Please support independent authors and leave a review.

Sincerely,

P.G. Thomas
