Ravenwild: Book 01 - Ravenwild (44 page)

There was a long pause as all considered the solemnity of all of this.

“Hey,” said Roly, “What about this? Maybe
we
are the ones that are supposed to save her. Like Brutus said. Maybe she’s meant to live with
us
until she’s old enough to do whatever it is that she’s meant to do.

“Anyway, it goes without saying that we need to keep her alive. She needs to be taken care of if it turns out that she
is
the one … ”

“Well however it turns out,” interrupted Franklin, “I feel hope. Hope that was broken the day the Trolls came to rule over the Gnomes. Maybe someday that can be made right. What happened then was a terrible wrong. We’ve never had a problem with either the Ravenwilders or the Gnomes. They leave us alone, we leave them alone. But the Trolls, if they succeed in the elimination of all of the Humans, Elves, and Dwarves, will surely come after us next. No question.”

“Amen to that,” the others agreed.

Roly went to stand watch and to check on the progress of the other four who had been out trying to take down an Agden buck, or boar. It would be good to have some fresh meat. Harvey and Michael lay down for a nap and Franklin kept an eye on the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of these two strangest of strange visitors to their forest. Jacqueline noiselessly made her way back, hidden by the leafy canopy, to Cinnamon, who napped contentedly in the crook of one of the huge limbs. Not wanting to disturb her, she sat and fiddled with her backpack.

After her brief catnap was ended, Cinnamon awoke to find her staring out into the treetops in front of her. “Good morning,” she offered. “Hey, are you all right there?”

Jacqueline turned her gaze towards the cat. “Good morning,” she returned. “I have some unbelievable news.”

“And what might that be?”

She related to her the conversation that she had only this minute overheard between the Wolves on the forest floor below. “My, but that
is
astounding,” she said. “And you are sure that they were unaware that you were above them?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Hmmm. I wonder if they even know, or suspect for that matter, that we can understand them. This is certainly a turn of events. Maybe we are about to catch bit of a break.”

“I hope so,” said Jacqueline. “I sure hope so.”

“This,” said Forrester, “is called Burnfast. “It’s a very light wood to begin with, but that’s not what makes it burn with no smoke. It burns this way because the wood fiber contains oil, so, like a candle that burns the wax that surrounds the wick, it burns smokeless. Not that this is a huge deal to a Troll, because we would mostly just as soon eat our meat raw, but to you Humans it is decidedly the only way to cook your food, or warm your toes, in hostile territory without getting caught.”

Orie flipped the roast over and asked, “But what about the actual smell of the meat itself cooking? Might that not alert our enemies to our presence?”

“It might,” said Forrester, “But the smell of wood smoke travels a lot farther than the smell of the meat itself, especially if it’s cooked slowly. It’s not perfect, but it
is
better. Look, the way you recognize it is by its snow-white appearance, and the distinctive shape of the leaves. It’s either that, or get used to eating your meat raw.”

After they had finished their quick meal, they moved out slowly. Orie still found it hard to believe that Forrester could move noiselessly, as large as he was.

They had covered a few miles when his giant friend held up an arm in warning. Orie moved in close, and Forrester whispered, “The next several miles will be patrolled heavily by Gnomes. Mostly, they will be interested in keeping on the move, because they are all returning to their homes in Vultura to settle down for the winter, but we definitely don’t want to get caught now. They would rather dispatch us quickly than not, anything to avoid slowing them down. No noise.”

Orie nodded his acknowledgment.

By nightfall they had made it past the danger zone.

“How much farther?” asked Orie as they bed-down.

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

Exhausted, he fell asleep. His dreams were one horrible nightmare after another. He awoke with a start to find Forrester missing. He rolled out of his bedroll and rubbed his arms. He was fairly freezing. “Good,” he thought. “Cold to me, colder for the Gnomes.”

He sat up slowly and surveyed his surroundings. They had slept in a stand of small hardwoods. He spied some Burnfast and smiled a dour smile. He wondered how everybody was doing and checked one of the maps, spreading it out with clumsy fingers in front of him on the forest floor. He saw that Gracie and Ryan were now well to the west, having crossed the border into Ravenwild. “Keep moving,” he murmured. “Keep moving.”

He noticed that his dot was there, as was that of Forrester, presently a hundred yards to the northwest. He made a mental note to ask Forrester about this odd disappearance of his dot when the opportunity presented itself. He could see that his mother and father hadn’t moved, nor had Jacqueline, but Stephanie looked like she had made it all the way to the Ravenwild border, far to the north. “Good for you, Steph’,” he thought. He was surprised that she had covered as much ground as quickly as she had.

He put the maps carefully back in his pack and pulled out some of the roast, on which he chewed, snacking as well on an assortment of berries that he found growing within the confines of their hideout. Taking a pull from the waterskin, he jumped when Forrester appeared out of nowhere at his side.

“You
have
to tell me how you do that,” he said.

“All in good time, young Orie, all in good time. For now, we walk. I have scouted extensively to our north, and it looks to be clear that way. The Gnomes have only one thought on their minds: Getting home before they literally freeze to death. Meanwhile, the Trolls have pushed on way to our northwest to bolster the occupying forces in Ravenwild, meaning we need to take advantage of our situation and make our own final push to the home of my friend. She will be the whole key to the success or failure of our rescuing your sisters and your friends. And some other things that need tidying up on Inam'Ra. Have you eaten?”

“I have.”

“I thought as much. Very well, we walk. We should have no trouble.”

“I wish I could be as certain,” thought Orie.

Forrester’s advance scouting paid off nicely, and they arrived shortly after the noon hour, which Forrester announced quietly in a small stand of fruit trees while they were supplementing the last of their meat with these sweet gifts of nature.

“What do you mean, we’re
there?
” asked Orie. “Looks like the middle of nowhere to me.”

“As I thought many years ago,” said Forrester, thinking, “Isn’t it peculiar how history tends to repeat itself.”

They waited for a few minutes. Nothing happened, prompting Orie to ask, “What do we do now?”

Forrester folded his great arms on his chest and settled down with his back to a small tree, which bent noticeably under his weight. “We wait.”

“Wait for what?”

Forester didn’t answer him, but drifted off into a light slumber. Orie, meanwhile, grew restless and decided to do a little exploring. How could they just sit and wait? It gnawed at him like an old hound dog gnaws at a bone. He made his way to the rim of the slight depression in the forest floor in which they had stopped and surveyed the landscape in front of him. It was gratefully devoid of anything that appeared threatening. He turned back to rejoin his sleeping friend and observed that he was gone. But more than that, the small clearing had completely changed. The trees were also gone, and he now stood on the edge of a great field, completely open and exposed to whatever prying eyes might be out there. Quickly, he dove to the ground, hoping to at least take whatever cover he could in the lush grasses that grew everywhere.

For a brief moment he thought he had gotten confused as to where he had gone, but when he thought about it some more, he realized he had not really gone anywhere except within the small, temporary resting spot in amongst some trees, and he had eaten some fruit. He was on the verge of panic when he heard Forrester laughing uproariously. “He’s gone insane,” thought Orie. He glanced skyward and watched him approach.

“Come on,” he hollered. “Up with you. Don’t worry. Nobody can hear us in here. Not even if they wanted to.”

Orie slowly got to his feet. Directly across from where they stood, about a half-mile across the field, was a farm, complete with a smallish central house that was made entirely of the flat stone that seemed to be everywhere, which had also been used to divide the grassy areas off into parcels, about an acre to the lot. He saw a stone well, a barn with attached chicken coop, and several outbuildings. All looked weathered, although in general good repair. The lawn about the buildings could have definitely used a trim, but there was tidiness about the place that pleased the eye, mostly the lack of clutter. Sleds and equipment were all stacked or leaned trimly against the wall of the barn well under the eaves. There was order here.

He looked back at Forrester, who wore a broad smile. “It’s okay right now, lad,” he said. “We are safe here. For the moment, we do not exist in the sense that we cannot be detected on the fair planet of Inam'Ra. It shall only be a brief stay. But while we’re here, there will be no one except us, and my friend Cirrhus of course.”

He loped across the field to the farmhouse, his great strides covering the distance in a matter of a minute or two, calling, “Cirrhus, my wonderful friend, it has been too long, way too long, way, way too long,” his voice disappearing as he bolted through the front door.

Orie was left to his own thoughts as he walked the rest of the way to the house. He saw several varieties of winter crops. Evidence of the harvest of the summer crops was everywhere as well, but he hardly paid any of this any mind as he was still trying to figure out how they had gone from hiding out from Gnomes in a semi-forest setting to a farmhouse on the plains with not a tree in sight.

Behind the house was a spectacular view. The land fell away for thousands of feet in a great series of canyons and gorges, with dozens of lakes, ponds, and rivulets at the base. Such was the vertical descent, clouds actually hung below the horizon. The effect was dizzying.

Letting out a small “whoa” of surprise, he walked back around to the front door, which he pushed open cautiously. “Forrester,” he called out softly. Hearing no response, he stepped inside, feeling the goosebumps mount. “Forrester?” he called out again. Still nothing.

The same order to things apparent on the outside was mirrored on the inside. All of the interior walls were covered with maps, murals, and artwork and such, and were bordered all the way around by shelving that held assorted knickknacks. The floors were a highly polished blonde wood that looked to have been swept in the last hour. He crossed through the small receiving foyer to the larger windows that occupied the entire back of the house. From inside, the view was more mesmerizing. Not quite knowing what he should do, he merely stood and admired it until Forrester was suddenly at his side. This time he did not start. This time he had heard his approach.

Turning slowly to face him, he noticed immediately that Forrester looked consumed with grief.

“She is gone,” he said, his voice cracking under the emotional strain.

Orie extended his arms, saying, “Oh, Forrester, I’m sorry.”

After Forrester had regained some composure, Orie asked, “What happened? How did you find her?”

“She was barely alive when we got here. She must have been watching us approach, for she left me a note. She had her ways. She was waiting for us. There were things she needed to tell me, things that we will need to know in order to go after your sisters and your friends, but when I found her she was already unconscious. She was breathing, but it was very shallow and she never regained consciousness. She wanted to meet you. She wrote me that, but I’m afraid she couldn’t hang on and the Old One finally took her. Oh, Orie, that is too sad … ” He lowered his great head, taking his face in his hands, and succumbed again briefly to the grief … the shock … the overwhelming sadness.

Orie guided him to a huge chair behind them and helped him into it. The silence was unsettling as he stood by and watched his friend grieve this terrible loss. He had so many questions but, out of respect, asked not a one of them while Forrester dealt with this blow in his own way. Instead, he continued to gaze out the back windows. The clouds that hung halfway down to the base of the monstrous chasm had started to blacken, and bolts of lightning began to flash all about the skies, some streaking all the way to the canyon floor where great bursts of light signaled their impact. Were the moment not so solemn, Orie undoubtedly would have had quite a narrative to go along with this most impressive show. But now, he merely waited patiently for his friend to come around.