dark art and wielded by an even darker creature had pierced his thigh. In the effort to save his life, Alwyn lost more than his leg that night. “And Miss Red Owl says I need to keep active so that I don’t dwell on…things. She’s teaching me meditation.”
Yimt cast an appraising eye at Alwyn’s wooden leg. Both Visyna Tekoy and Chayii Red Owl had crafted it from a living tree, magically entwining several slender branches into an intricate and flexible design. Yimt stepped closer and looked up, locking eyes with him. “Aye, couple of witchy women there, they oughta know. Wise to heed them, Ally. They only want what’s best for you.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Alwyn said, trying to believe it. Around him, the shades still waited. The shadow of Meri moved closer, his one eye like a dark portal offering Alwyn a path far away from here, though Alwyn knew Yimt couldn’t understand.
“I’m always right,” Yimt said, thumping his chest. “In fact, if I was a betting man, I’d say the two of them joined us on our little sailing adventure as much for you as for the major. I figured they’d stay back in Elfkyna with the rest of those Long Watch elves to look over the tree-star thing in Luuguth Jor, but I think you’ve become a bit of a project.”
“A project?”
Yimt nodded. “Aye. See, women, no matter their age or race or even how witchy they are, like to work on projects, and by projects I mean men. The more screwed up or in need of repair the man is, the happier womenfolk are. And, Ally, between you and the major, I’d say those ladies have got their hands full for a long time to come.”
“You always know just what to say,” Alwyn said, not sure if he should be touched or offended by the idea. Where Yimt was concerned it was always a close-run thing.
Shrugging, Alwyn began to turn around to head back down the slope. Yimt reached out and grabbed him by the elbow, stopping him. He gently took the musket from his hands and eased the hammer back into place then handed it back to Alwyn.
“A fellow wants to be careful with a loaded weapon, especially out here.”
For a moment, there was only Yimt, his friend, on the ridgeline with Alwyn. He looked into the dwarf’s eyes and saw the concern.
“I’ll try to remember that,” Alwyn said.
Yimt beamed, flashing his metal-colored teeth. “Not to worry, Ally, not to worry. As long as Sergeant Arkhorn’s around, you’ll have me to remember it for you. We’ve got some serious glory and gallantry ahead of us and I sure as hell ain’t about to face it alone. A fellow can only wear so many medals afore folks start to think he’s a bit full of himself, y’know? Now get a move on. I got a turtle roasting on the fire…at least I think it’s a turtle, and you want to eat it while it’s still warm.”
Alwyn smiled this time, a real smile. “Then get down there and save me a piece. I never miss a chance to try some of your cooking. I try, but unfortunately I never miss.”
Yimt raised one bushy eyebrow and wagged a thick finger at him. “Cheeky bugger,” he said, turning and heading down the slope. “I’ll save you some of the brains; you can never have too many.”
Alwyn watched him for a while until the shadows closed in again. Meri came to stand beside him.
“Join us, Alwyn .” The others joined in, each urging him on. “ Join us. ”
Alwyn gripped his musket, but this time no frost fire danced along it. He started to limp down toward the campfire, the pain in his stump reminding him with each step of what he had already lost, but also of what still remained. The shadows on the ridgeline did not follow, but kept their hands outstretched.
“Not yet,” Alwyn said back to them, “not yet.”
TWO
M ajor Konowa Swift Dragon, second in command of the Calahrian Empire’s Iron Elves, stood on the bow of his small boat in the predawn darkness regretting his decision to eat before setting out for Wikumma Island. His stomach roiled.
Yimt cast an appraising eye at Alwyn’s wooden leg. Both Visyna Tekoy and Chayii Red Owl had crafted it from a living tree, magically entwining several slender branches into an intricate and flexible design. Yimt stepped closer and looked up, locking eyes with him. “Aye, couple of witchy women there, they oughta know. Wise to heed them, Ally. They only want what’s best for you.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Alwyn said, trying to believe it. Around him, the shades still waited. The shadow of Meri moved closer, his one eye like a dark portal offering Alwyn a path far away from here, though Alwyn knew Yimt couldn’t understand.
“I’m always right,” Yimt said, thumping his chest. “In fact, if I was a betting man, I’d say the two of them joined us on our little sailing adventure as much for you as for the major. I figured they’d stay back in Elfkyna with the rest of those Long Watch elves to look over the tree-star thing in Luuguth Jor, but I think you’ve become a bit of a project.”
“A project?”
Yimt nodded. “Aye. See, women, no matter their age or race or even how witchy they are, like to work on projects, and by projects I mean men. The more screwed up or in need of repair the man is, the happier womenfolk are. And, Ally, between you and the major, I’d say those ladies have got their hands full for a long time to come.”
“You always know just what to say,” Alwyn said, not sure if he should be touched or offended by the idea. Where Yimt was concerned it was always a close-run thing.
Shrugging, Alwyn began to turn around to head back down the slope. Yimt reached out and grabbed him by the elbow, stopping him. He gently took the musket from his hands and eased the hammer back into place then handed it back to Alwyn.
“A fellow wants to be careful with a loaded weapon, especially out here.”
For a moment, there was only Yimt, his friend, on the ridgeline with Alwyn. He looked into the dwarf’s eyes and saw the concern.
“I’ll try to remember that,” Alwyn said.
Yimt beamed, flashing his metal-colored teeth. “Not to worry, Ally, not to worry. As long as Sergeant Arkhorn’s around, you’ll have me to remember it for you. We’ve got some serious glory and gallantry ahead of us and I sure as hell ain’t about to face it alone. A fellow can only wear so many medals afore folks start to think he’s a bit full of himself, y’know? Now get a move on. I got a turtle roasting on the fire…at least I think it’s a turtle, and you want to eat it while it’s still warm.”
Alwyn smiled this time, a real smile. “Then get down there and save me a piece. I never miss a chance to try some of your cooking. I try, but unfortunately I never miss.”
Yimt raised one bushy eyebrow and wagged a thick finger at him. “Cheeky bugger,” he said, turning and heading down the slope. “I’ll save you some of the brains; you can never have too many.”
Alwyn watched him for a while until the shadows closed in again. Meri came to stand beside him.
“Join us, Alwyn .” The others joined in, each urging him on. “ Join us. ”
Alwyn gripped his musket, but this time no frost fire danced along it. He started to limp down toward the campfire, the pain in his stump reminding him with each step of what he had already lost, but also of what still remained. The shadows on the ridgeline did not follow, but kept their hands outstretched.
“Not yet,” Alwyn said back to them, “not yet.”
TWO
M ajor Konowa Swift Dragon, second in command of the Calahrian Empire’s Iron Elves, stood on the bow of his small boat in the predawn darkness regretting his decision to eat before setting out for Wikumma Island. His stomach roiled.
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