Chapter 11 Part 1

THE QUEST BEGINS

Coran’s people hunted down the skeleton and dispatched it with little difficulty. A further investigation revealed three more zombies in the crags west of the city, and they too were destroyed summarily.

Coran shared his thoughts on the events with Gage and Dylan upon returning the next morning. “Tycho’s never had problems with undead before,” he stated. “In all my service to the city, I’ve only seen a single skeleton. To see three zombies disturbs me greatly.”

“Were they independent?” Gage asked.

“I can’t say. If they were under a controlling influence, it escaped unnoticed.”

“I am anxious to learn if father or the others have discovered anything,” Gage announced.

“They should be returning soon,” Coran agreed. “As soon as Rathe returns we’ll go to mother’s place and see if Uncle Armegon or Uncle Ultrecht have found anything out. I fear that if Tycho’s become infested, it’s a good bet other places have also become infested as well.”

Only a few days after the incidents with the skeleton and zombies passed when Rathe returned. Dylan had happily learned that both Galena and Fewla had recovered. Fewla had been attended to at the Hive and the brothers had mended her injuries with great care. She was still favoring the arm, but had been allowed to return to her chores.

When Rathe appeared in Tycho, he went straight to Coran’s place where the Minotaan found Gage and Dylan eating the evening meal. The dark red giant stooped as he passed through the door and enthusiastically clasped Gage’s offered hand.

“It’s good to see you again my friend.”

“It is good to see you too, Rathe,” Gage replied. “Is father with you?”

“No,” the Minotaan answered. “He decided to return by another route. He’ll make for your mother’s home from the southwest.”

“Did he learn anything about the outbreak of undead appearances?” Gage asked.

“It seems that there have been some occurrences in the west. But I don’t know the details. You’ll have to ask your father.”

“I suppose that we can be leaving to return to mother’s place soon,” Gage decided. He questioned his brother. “Are you coming with us?”

“Later,” Coran replied. “I still have some work to do here. My unit is scheduled for garrison duty at the duke’s mansion for another two weeks. When we finish, I’ll follow you down there.”

“I will tell mother,” Gage assured his brother. “As for us, we will be departing in the morning. I want to be there when Ultrecht and Armegon return.”

“I’ll go with you,” Rathe added. “I’d like to taste your mother’s fresh bread once more, for the life of a sailor isn’t known for the food.”

Dylan gave his farewells that afternoon. He assured Galena and Fewla that he would return someday and he would look for them when he did. Then, after the evening meal at the Red Horizon, Dylan packed his belongings and went to bed.

They departed early the next morning. The sun had only begun to rise when Rathe guided Gage and Dylan’s team out of the city on the south road. The mornings were cool as autumn was in full season and the winter approached.

The journey back to The Forester’s abode was longer it seemed than it had taken them to reach the city. There were very few stories about The Forester to entertain the boy, but his studies still occupied most of his day and the one saving grace that rescued him from total boredom was the new spell that Gage decided to teach him.

“I taught you the Sleep spell,” his master explained, “to use in emergencies. That is not an uncommon practice for traveling apprentices, but it is not openly encouraged in the Academy. For the most part it is forbidden for an apprentice to practice magic except under strict observation of a journeyman at the very least.”

“However,” Gage decided. “In general there are two spells that all apprentices are taught and they may use at their discretion. These are very basic and low powered spells that, to be honest, even an initiate could probably learn.”

“You have been told about the language of magic and the writings of magical symbols. You are familiar with the alphabet of power runes and Magescript?”

“Yes sir,” Dylan acknowledged. “I’ve seen them on occasion. I don’t understand the writing.”

“Nor would you be able to copy it,” Gage stated. “Magescript is difficult to describe at best. But let us try.”

The master showed his pupil a history text. “In this book there is a certain type of information. That information is created from the sum of the smaller bits of information held on each page.” He turned to an arbitrary page. “On this page are sentences. Each sentence contains a small bit of information, that when added together create the information contained on the page.”

Gage continued his dialog. “Each sentence is made up of words which in turn each have meaning that when added create the meaning of the sentence.”

“Now each word is made up of letters, but the letters make sounds only and do not give meaning to the word. So the word is the basic piece of information in the written language. Do you follow that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“In Magescript, however, the symbols, called power runes, do have meaning. They combine to create power words, and the power words combine to create the spell preamble, direction, function, and so on. Finally the spell components of the preamble, direction, function, closure and conclusion combine to form the complete spell.” Gage leaned his head back and breathed deeply, then yawned.

Dylan paused in his thinking something occurred to him. “So this Magescript is a sort of secret writing that keeps the power runes from being read by someone who can’t control them?”

Gage studied his prodigy closely. The boy had leapt to the point of the lecture intuitively. “That is correct. To keep them unreadable,” Gage continued, “we use a special spell that allows us to write them. The spell is of course simply called Write and is very simple. Likewise, a spell called Read allows us to read the power runes.” Gage reached into a bag behind the seat and pulled forth a new, leather bound book.

He passed the book to Dylan. “This will be your first spellbook,” he explained. “Later I will show you how to place a spell on it to keep it from being stolen or misused, but for now I want you to get use to keeping it with you. It must stay with you at all times. From this day forth, I never want to find you without it.”

“Yes master,” Dylan answered. He had often heard about the importance of the mysterious spellbooks. He had seen Gage’s on several occasions, and had noted how careful the master was about the book being lost or damaged.

Dylan kept the book with him every moment for the rest of the journey with the single exception of when they stopped near a stream and he took a bath. Even then, the words of his master rang in his head. He had never heard Gage speak so firmly. The mage had not made any threats, but the message was very plain that he would be more than a little upset if Dylan should misplace the book.

Six days later they were nearing their destination when they passed by a small path to one side of the road. A man was chopping wood about thirty yards down the path and paused when he saw Gage.

The mage asked Rathe to stop and dismounted the wagon. He walked down the path and greeted the older, but still healthy man. They shook hands and then the man embraced Gage in a powerful hug.

There was a bit of laughing and some other things said over a period of about five minutes before Gage bade farewell and returned to the wagon where Dylan and Rathe waited.

“Was that who I think it was?” Rathe asked as they continued down the road.

“It was Mr. Urst,” Gage answered. “He has been living here since before I was born. He lives alone most of the time, and has on occasion watched over mother’s place while we were all away.”

“I wouldn’t have expected to see him out today,” Rathe pondered, “what with the greater moon almost full, and all.”

“What does the moon have to do with anything,” Dylan asked.

“As I understand things,” Rathe explained, “the man turns into an animal when there’s a full moon.”

“It is the curse of Lycanthropy,” Gage added. “Mr. Urst is a werebear. He can change into the form of a bear. Usually it is controllable at the stage that he is in, but when the moons get full, it becomes difficult to control, and he becomes somewhat reclusive until the time passes.”

“Isn’t there a cure?” Dylan asked. “I can see that at times it might be handy, but you called it a curse. Maybe he doesn’t want the curse.”

“There is a cure,” Gage answered. “Father has offered to cure him on several occasions, but Mr. Urst long ago mastered the animal inside. He is the one in control, so the curse has no teeth. It is the loss of control over the animal that makes it bad.”

“I’ve often wondered about that myself,” Rathe commented.

They drove on until the light began to fade. Since they were very close to their destination, it was decided to ride on through the night instead of stopping. As it was, they arrived at Gage’s parents home only two hours after sunset.

Gage’s mother, the tiny ageless elven woman, was of course very happy to see them, and rushed out to meet her visitors. On her heels was the mountain of fur and muscle, the coyodiak named Algol.

“Welcome home,” she greeted them. She looked directly at Dylan as she spoke and he felt that the welcome and use of the word, home was intended for him as well as the others.

“Has anyone else returned yet?” Gage asked.

“No,” Nikki answered, “you are the first.”

“I earnestly hope that they have heard very little of any undead. We have had enough of it already.”

“In Tycho?” Nikki asked. “That is one of the last places I would expect to hear of it.”

“I am afraid that the abandoned silver mines provide an excellent opportunity for hoards of undead to hold up. Coran and his troops are going to be investigating up there and then he will join us here later.”

The small woman sighed. Elves lived for hundreds of years and Nikki was still very young, but if only for a moment, her face appeared aged with worry. “He will be careful I am sure.”

Gage directed Dylan to unpack with Rathe’s help, while he entered the cabin with his mother. Rathe and Dylan removed the baggage and supplies from the wagon and stowed them in the storage shed. Then they entered the main cabin.

The next few days, Dylan counted himself lucky. While he was engrossed in the studies that Gage assigned him, Nikki kept Gage and Rathe busy doing chores. Rathe spent a great deal of time making repairs on the roof while Gage chopped and stacked large amounts of wood. His master’s mother would not let the mage cut trees down. She directed him to search the nearby forest for fallen trees and had him drag them back to the cabin. Though she forbade it, and no one caught him, Dylan felt sure that his master used magic on several occasions to lighten the workload.

When not studying, Dylan had the opportunity to get to know some of the animals that routinely stayed near the cabin. The huge coyodiak, Algol, became very acquainted with the apprentice. Though unable to speak to the creature, Dylan found that Algol would follow him casually as he walked about in the forest. The boy also noticed that as long as Algol was with him, Gage was not so reluctant to let him go off alone. It was almost as if the coyodiak was standing guard over the apprentice.

It was about a week later when Coran and an unknown companion arrived. They brought news that was less than encouraging. Coran told them of the Tycarian Guard’s scouring of the abandoned silver mines to the west of the city, and the dozens of zombies and ghouls that they found there.

Coran’s companion was introduced to Rathe and Dylan as Velar. He was a human, slightly taller than Gage, but far shorter than Coran. He had short brown hair and brown eyes. His attire was unremarkable and the only decoration he wore was a single steel earring.

“Zombies in particular are generally chaotic and uncontrolled,” Coran noted as he recanted what had transpired in the city. “But they and the ghouls seemed to be working in concert with one another.”

“Did you find a controller?” Gage asked.

“No. We think that there was a vampire or a lich behind it all, but several of the elven mages were helping us as well as a few of the dwarven priests and a few of the brothers from The Hive. I think we managed to run it out of the mines, and destroyed dozens of minor undead in the process.”

“A lich?” Gage sounded concerned. “It takes real power to create a lich. They are very bad news."

“It takes real power to defeat a lich,” Rathe added.

“Your father will be back very soon,” Nikki interrupted. “And your uncles will be here within the next day or so. They will be most interested in what has happened in Tycho.”

“I remember we talked about liches,” Dylan said from the chair where he had been reading his lesson. “They’re the most powerful of the undead. Wouldn’t your uncles be scared of them?”

There was a brief outburst of laughter. Dylan was unsure of what it meant. He certainly did not intend to make a joke.

Fortunately, Nikki came to his rescue. “Perhaps they should be,” she said, “but I doubt that they are. And they would probably consider such an idea to be insulting.”

“They are that powerful?” Dylan asked.

Rathe answered. “Remember that Gage’s father is the Forester. They are practically his brothers.”

“Then why not just ask them to go and clean out all the places where the undead are dwelling. Surely they’re capable.”

“Maybe they will,” Nikki replied.

Dylan listened to the adults talking well into the night. There was the occasional outburst of laughter, but his reading made him drowsy and eventually he nodded off.

Dylan woke the next morning as Rathe entered the cabin door with a large box on his shoulder. He had been outside, and dim sunlight, filtering through the trees, fell through the doorway. Following the Minotaan was the mage, Ultrecht.

Dylan drifted back to sleep until his master, in his opinion, rather rudely awakened him. Gage tipped the chair the boy was sleeping in over spilling Dylan onto the floor.

“It is long after sunrise, Dylan” Gage laughed. “Do not be lazy. My uncle may think that I am not training you well enough.”

“Do not be rude and inhospitable,” Nikki scolded her son. “Your uncle may think that I did not train you well enough.”

Rathe, Coran and Ultrecht laughed at Gage’s reprimand and Dylan jumped to his feet. “Yes, master. You’re absolutely right. May I be excused to wash up?”

Gage waved off the jibes of his family. “Of course, Dylan. You have lessons, so do be quick.”

The apprentice vanished out the door to go bathe. When the door closed, Ultrecht looked at his nephews and the Minotaan. “Who’s the new fellow?”

“His name’s Velar,” Coran answered, referring to his companion. The newcomer was outside washing his clothes. “I’ll vouch for him.”

“That is good enough,” Nikki decided before anyone could respond. “If my son vouches for him then in my eyes he is above reproach.”

Ultrecht nodded. “Fine.” He poured himself a cup of wine as he spoke. “I’ve picked up some stories about the appearance of undead all over the kingdom. And I’ve created a rough timeline of events revolving around the appearance of undead.” The mage took a drink.

“It seems that about three years ago, the first significant outbreaks of undead infestations occurred in the far south. There’re some vast wetlands down there and they are inhabited by several tribes of people, some of which may be worshiping demons and practicing necromancy.”

“Do you think that that is where this all began?” Gage asked.

“It’s a strong possibility,” Ultrecht admitted. He poured another cup of wine. “There’s something else. No one really noticed at first, but it’s come to my attention that the League of Death, the magic users who are masters of the darker side of necromancy, have all vacated the Academy and no one knows where they are.”

“How interesting,” Gage noted. “Do you think there is a connection?”

“I’m afraid that there probably is. That bunch has always been separatist and reclusive. There aren’t that many of them to begin with, and it was not uncommon for them to disappear for short periods of time, so no one really noticed them leave.”

“How long have they been missing,” Gage asked.

Ultrecht finished the wine. “Almost two months now,” he answered.

“What of their staff?”

“The last one promoted his journeyman and sent him on sabbatical earlier this year. None of them have been taking on apprentices or initiates for almost eight years now.” Ultrecht leaned back and drew a pipe from his robe. “Actually I’m surprised that no one saw that as strange. I mean it’s not unheard of for a master to decline training apprentices and initiates, but for all the masters of a single school of magic to do it should’ve been noticed long ago”.

“So,” Rathe interrupted. “Could you explain to those of us who don’t hang out at the Academy just what you are talking about?”

Gage explained. “The form of magic that is involved with manipulating the dead is necromancy. There are not many masters of that particular school of magic, but all those who are masters belong to a private society called the League of Death.”

“Other than in the deep south,” Ultrecht continued, “I’ve heard stories of wights in Seron and in the outskirts of Allentown as well.”

“This seems to be fairly wide spread,” Coran sighed. “When the undead turn up in large numbers in places like Tycho, it’s time to be concerned.”

“I’m afraid you are right,” Ultrecht agreed. “I must admit that Allentown and Seron aren’t too surprising. After all, Seron’s not for from New Aspberg, and there’s still an evil presence there. And everything is in Allentown, good and evil, living and dead alike. But to hear of undead infestations in a stronghold like Tycho is very unnerving.”

Dylan paid close attention to his lessons and performed his chores dutifully. For three days, he listened to the conversations and tried to imagine the strange things that were going on in the world. It all sounded so mysterious and in a way exciting. Something was happening and it was going to happen in his lifetime. It would be a living tale, just like those he had heard by the fireside since he was old enough to remember. It all seemed so adventurous.

Armegon arrived later that week. He came riding on a horse up the small trail in the early evening. Though he had obviously ridden all day, he did not appear to be fatigued as he nimbly vaulted from the saddle. He let the animal go free and the horse commenced grazing on the grass near the main cottage.

When Armegon stepped into the cabin, he glanced curiously at the unfamiliar Velar, then walked pointedly over to the fireplace and sniffed at the kettle and it’s contents. “What’s cooking?”

“Soup,” Ultrecht answered. “How’s your trip?”

“Fair. It seems that this undead thing’s pretty wide spread. Sam did convince the king to release royal funding to bolster the militia of all the major cities for the purpose of keeping the undead out of the cities. The king’s also authorized the formation of mercenary groups to police the areas surrounding the towns. Unfortunately, bureaucracy being what it is, it could be a year or so before anything actually gets done.”

Coran passed a bowl to Armegon as he stirred the concoction. Ultrecht folded his arms and leaned back in the rocking chair by the fire. “That figures.” He kicked a chair and slid it across the floor towards Armegon. “How bad’s the outbreak of undead?”

“There are all manners of undead in Freon, but there’s nothing unusual about that. Keron has suddenly developed a bad case of skeletons, and I had to deal with a pair of ghosts in High branch. I wasn’t able to investigate further, but I suspect there may have been a lich and a few more undead there. I notified the clergy and they’re going to coordinate with the mages guild to hunt him down.” Armegon dipped a bowl and carried it over to the table.

He pulled the chair up and sat across from Velar sparing the unfamiliar face a long curious stare, but said nothing.

Gage with apprentice in tow entered the building. They had been outside, engaged in a lesson when Armegon had arrived. “Good evening Uncle Armegon,” the elven mage called.

Armegon paused eating long enough to acknowledge the new arrivals. “So what have you heard from Tycho and Allentown?” he asked.

Coran and Gage filled their uncle in on what had happened in the mines above Tycho, and Ultrecht recounted his discoveries in Allentown and Seron. Between the three sets of travelers, there seemed to be quite a bit of undead creatures active in places where they should not have been.

“So now the question arises,” Gage put forth. “Who is creating and controlling all these undead? It does not seem possible that it is a single person. For the undead to appear in so many places at once, suggests that there are several entities involved.”

“Or someone with a means of very rapid transportation,” Ultrecht added. “And yet the only way to move to anyplace in the world rapidly is to fly and even then it takes many days.”

“Mass Teleportation?” Coran offered.

“Possibly,” Ultrecht agreed. “That would require a mage of exceptional skill to make that many teleportations over such distances and so often. I know almost all of the mages who have that capability and none of them are affiliated with the League of Death.”

“And those you do not know?”

Ultrecht shook his head. “I can’t say for sure, Coran, but I doubt it. Mass Teleportation isn’t a necromantic spell. Besides I just can’t see using such a powerful spell on something as meager as skeletons, zombies and ghouls.”

“Is it possible that the League of Death has itself dispersed to many different places and is behind all this?”

“That’s a good question, Gage,” Ultrecht considered the suggestion. “If that’s so then it’ll be much easier to deal with the problem. The guild itself can impose sanctions and reign that bunch in.”

“And if it’s not them?” Coran asked.

“We’ll just have to wait and find out,” Ultrecht answered. “We really don’t know enough to get into any serious speculations.”

Three more days passed. While Dylan continued with his studies, the others put serious consideration to the problem at hand. On the third day, however, Avery returned. His arrival was heralded when the huge Coyodiak lying by the fireplace early one evening sniffed loudly and then jumped to the door. With its nose, it lifted the latch and with a shove, bolted out the open door. There quickly followed a bone-rattling howl in the early evening.

Nikki quietly stood from the table where she had been reading and walked to the door. She peered into the darkness and then departed closing the door behind her.

Dylan wondered that no one else went to investigate the noise, but when he saw that the Forester had returned, he understood. Few wanted to provide an audience for the two mates greeting each other after a long absence.

But Avery had not returned alone. With him was Crystal and it was evident from the weathered look on her face that something was terribly wrong. Her eyes were red and her usually rosy cheeks were tear stained. Her short brown hair was unkept and her riding clothes were wrinkled. She entered the cabin leaning on the strong ranger while Nikki consoled her and held her hand worriedly.

The reaction of the cottage occupants was immediate. Armegon jumped to his feet. “What happened,” he demanded. After all Crystal was, in a way, his granddaughter.

Avery guided the girl to a chair. Nikki sat next to her and put the young woman’s head on her shoulder. She patted Crystal’s back comfortingly.

“She finally let herself grieve,” Avery answered. “She has been holding it back since we left High branch.”

“What happened!” Armegon snapped.

“Kylor is dead.” Avery’s voice was quiet. Immediately the entire room exploded in alarm and questions.

“What happened?” Ultrecht demanded.

“Who did it?” Coran asked.

“I fear that Kylor was killed by a lich. Kylor was a good priest and from what I’ve heard, he went out to stop the appearance of undead in the Great Deep just north of High Branch. He expected to only encounter ghouls and wights, but found that they were being controlled by a lich. It was too strong for him.”

“Damn,” Armegon swore. “It was only a little while ago that I passed through there.”

“I know,” Avery continued. “That’s why I went to High Branch. I was trying to meet you there. When I arrived, I found Sam, Calista and Crystal. Sam had come as fast as he could. He’d been praying and incanting for days, but Kylor is beyond recalling.”

“And the lich?” Coran asked.

“Destroyed. Sam saw to that as soon as I convinced him to give up trying to resurrect Kylor.” Avery sighed. “It’s the same as I’ve seen everywhere since I left you in Tycho. There are skeletons in the Twin Cities, renegade mummies in Topas, wraiths in Pandara and vampires in Haganaw. I stopped by Minota and Ruk has seen skeletons there as well.”

“Poor Minota,” Rathe murmured.

“It’s just as bad in the far south. I actually tangled with a lich in Vermouth and from several of the southern cities I heard word of dark occurrences. Some of the devil worshiping tribes are becoming very restless and after speaking to Apyriate, a gold dragon that I met, I’ve learned that there’ve actually been some medium class devils spotted in that part of the world.”

“Did she mention how the devils were arriving?” It was the first thing Velar had asked out loud since arriving.

Avery looked at Velar strangely. Then with a slight smile, he answered. “She said that they’ve always been present in the form of possessed humans, but only recently have they been appearing in their natural form.”

Dylan was not a master mage, nor a living legend, nor even a giant or weapon master or officer in the Tycarian Guard, but even he could tell that there was something special about Velar, something that Ultrecht, Armegon and now Avery could recognize.

“Father,” Coran introduced his companion. “This is Velar. He’s a familiar face in Tycho, and a comrade. I’ve found him to be a good fighter full of good advice.”

Avery nodded. “I have no doubt at all.”

Armegon sat with his face buried in his hands. The archmage said nothing for many long moments. Ultrecht simply stared into the flickering fire. He slowly shook his head from side to side.

“Something has to be done,” Armegon finally declared. “I’m going to find out who is behind this and then I’m going to turn them inside out quite slowly.”

“It is bad enough that undead are on the rampage, but to include devils is worse,” Gage offered.

“And to hear of devils appearing in their natural form is even more alarming,” Ultrecht added.

“What’s it matter if the devil’s in natural form or possessing a body,” Rathe asked. “I’d think that it would be better if they were in natural form. It’d sure be easier to find them.”

“It is,” Ultrecht agreed, “but in order for a devil to take his natural form on this plane, he had to enter this plane through a gate. That’s a very powerful form of magic. And if the devils are free to roam about, then the gate was opened from Hell. A gate opened from this plane summons a devil against its will. As a result, it’s confined to the parameters of the spell.”

“A gate opened from Hell itself allows the devil to roam about in his natural form at will. He’s more powerful in his natural form and can summon other devils or undead to his aid.”

“To summon other devils requires much energy,” Avery interjected. “But undead are much easier. They are the possessed bodies of the dead.”

“It doesn’t matter to me who or what they are,” Coran declared. He spoke through clenched teeth. The tall dark haired man was livid with anger. “They are ultimately the ones behind the death of Kylor, and I feel a desire to make them pay.”

“I am sure that Sam feels likewise,” Gage wondered aloud.

“Sam’s view on the matter is tempered by his faith,” Armegon replied. “I’m sure that he’d like nothing more than to go after them himself, but Sam also has a duty. He’s already convinced the king to finance operations against the pockets of undead. He must stay in the king’s court.”

“Well then, since he cannot go, I will,” Gage declared adamantly.

Avery placed a calm hand on his son’s shoulder. “My son, you too have a duty.”
Gage glanced reflexively at his apprentice. The boy was listening patiently. His reading assignment lay forgotten at his side. “I will leave the boy in Tesron’s Care,” he suggested. “He will be very well cared for at the Academy.”

“No,” Avery countered. “You will not.” His voice was firm and cold. It was a voice that no one in the room could deny. “You made an obligation and you will see it through. Either you take the boy with you, or you don’t go at all, but you do not abandon him.” Gage hung his head. It was clear that he was struggling with the choice.

“I’ll go,” Coran volunteered. “With or without Gage, I’ll go.”

“I’ll go as well,” Rathe added.

“And I,” Velar said quietly.

“Like it or not,” Crystal finally interrupted, “I’m going with them.”

Gage listened to all the volunteers. Then he looked at the older trio. “And you three?”

“We’ll be about if the need arises. If they go, they need only locate the source of the undead and devils. Then we can all decide how to handle it,” Ultrecht answered. “Until then, we’ll do what we can to help the king’s efforts to quell the undead locally.”

“I can not let them go out without magical support,” Gage muttered with his hands wringing. “And I should not subject Dylan to that kind of danger.”

“Take the boy with you,” Armegon suggested. Dylan felt his breath shorten at the hope that he could go out on such an adventure. He dared not breathe too loudly or his master might decide otherwise.

“This could be dangerous,” Gage insisted.

“So is traveling on the road these days,” Ultrecht added. The ancient archmage caught Dylan’s gaze and winked. “Give the lad a taste of what being a mage is like. You can teach him some protective magic.”

“And you can assign one of your comrades to watch over his safety,” Avery offered. “How about our new friend, Velar?”

Gage considered the suggestion. He did not know Velar. They had only met recently and he knew nothing about the man’s past or reliability. With a questioning expression, Gage glanced at Coran. His brother nodded his agreement.

Gage was still anxious, but if Coran trusted the man, then that was enough for him. “OK,” he decided, “if Velar is agreeable, then so am I.”

Eyes turned to the new acquaintance. Velar nodded his acceptance of their terms. Gage sighed. “Then it is settled.”

Dylan almost shouted for joy, but he held his place. His excitement was not lost on the others though and Gage fixed him with a serious stare. “Let us hope the lad is disciplined enough to do as he is told. His life may depend on it.”

No one spoke for several long minutes. “So when will we leave,” Coran asked.

“Tomorrow,” Gage suggested. “There is a lot to do, and the sooner we get started the sooner we will finish."

“That being the case,” Avery said, “there’s much to do. Provisions must be prepared and packed. The wagon needs to be readied and you should all get a good night’s rest and a good meal. I’ll see what I can do to provide game for tonight’s table.”

“It’s about time,” Ultrecht commented. “I’m hungry.”

“There are some last minute things I want to talk to Gage about as well,” Armegon added.

“Well, while Avery’s out hunting with Coran, and you’re chatting with Gage,” Ultrecht answered, “I want to have a word with our guest, Mr. Velar.”

Dylan was wondering what he should do when Crystal came over to him. “Dylan,” she asked. “Would you please take a walk with me?” It was clear from her tear stained cheeks and red eyes that she was still deeply in grief over the loss of her brother. He perceived that she needed to deal with her feelings, but did not want to be totally alone either.

Dylan stood and started for the door. There he opened the door for the young woman. He received a look of approval from his mentor as well as a nod from Nikki, who had up until then been consoling the grieving young woman.

Crystal stepped through the door and then inhaled and bellowed forth a very unladylike, loud whistle. There was a snort and muffled bark as Algol trotted around the corner of the cottage. “There you are my friend,” Crystal greeted as the huge coyodiak approached. A long pink tongue slipped out and gently caressed the girl’s face. The beast’s expression seemed to soften as it sensed her sadness.

Dylan closed the door behind them and followed the girl and her monstrous guardian into the dark. He kept a respectable distance. He was close enough to be of comfort, but not so close as to intrude upon Crystal’s thoughts.

Crystal walked up the path that led the long distance back to the main road. It was almost two hours distant to the main road by horse, and probably three hours by foot.

It was late evening. Darkness had already fallen chasing the daylight into twilight. Insects and other nocturnal sounds filled the forest to either side of the path as Crystal walked quietly. She kept one hand wrapped in Algol’s fur as she walked. She spoke only on occasion and it was clear that her speech was not directed at Dylan or anyone in particular.

Dylan faithfully followed Crystal a long way down the path. He figured that they were half way to the main road when Crystal stopped and sat under a tree. Algol lay down beside her with his massive head on his forepaws.

“The world has changed, Algol,” she murmured. “He is gone. Kylor won’t ever come home again and my family won’t ever smile again.” She sighed. “And yet the sun rises and sets without him.”

Dylan sat across the path facing her. He listened attentively but said nothing. She simply sat there, across from him staring vacantly into the darkening sky. Occasionally she would glance at him and her face would twist slightly before she could look away again.
Finally after about an hour of sitting, Crystal decided that they should return to the cottage. It was deep dark, with only the light of the moons to light the way. She spoke very little, but at least in the darkness, her thoughts were directed at Dylan. She talked absently of her childhood and the fond memories she had of her brother and how much she would miss him.

When they finally returned to the cottage, they discovered that most of the others were waiting. A large skewer of meat rotated slowly over the central fire and the smell made Dylan’s mouth water.