Ravenwild: Book 01 - Ravenwild (79 page)

“Forrester,” he said. “Sit here, if you would please.”

He reached down and carefully released the switch at the foot of the bed, clicking it downwards. His image appeared in the tell-all.

Forrester sat, the small bed groaning in protest. A candle that needed replacing sputtered and hissed.

He handed him the tell-all. “Say my name.”

“Orie Alexander Strong.”

“Okay, now say, ‘Orie, invisible’.”

Nothing happened.

“Now,” he said, “say, ‘Orie Alexander Strong invisible’.”

He did, and Orie vanished. Forrester’s face took on a look of worry as he stared at the spot where Orie had been standing.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m invisible, that’s all. See, I can pick things up.” A cushion popped up and tossed itself back onto the couch, coming to rest against another pillow.

“How do we make you visible again?”

“How do I know? But at least now we’ve proven that it’s voice-activated. And I’m sure it’s programmed to make the commands easy to figure out. It might have voice-recognition technology. Relax, Forrester. Say, ‘Orie Alexander Strong not invisible’.” Nothing. They tried every command they could think of. He remained invisible.

“Well,” said Orie. “We have things to do. We need to go to the portal. We’ll bring the bed with us.”

In the chamber, under the outbuilding of Cirrhus’s homestead, Forrester Ragamund and his invisible companion set it down. “The way I figure it,” said Orie, “there has to be a tool in here that I can use to get this switch unbolted from the bed frame. I need a wrench or something. I’m going to check the maps. Can you look around for a tool or something that we can use to get this switch out of the bed, please? Something that looks like it might fit this bolt here.” He tapped several times on the problem bolt.

The maps seemed to unfold themselves. “According to the maps, everybody should be in the same place as when we came here, and they are …
not
! Forrester, what’s up with that? I thought you said time doesn’t pass ‘out there’ while we’re in here. This doesn’t make any sense. Look, Gracie and Ryan are
way
south of where they were a few days ago. Man, I should have been checking them every day. And look, Jacqueline is farther north. Mom and Dad are pretty much the same, and Stephanie … has totally disappeared. Jees, Forrester, time seems to be passing out there the same as it’s passing in here.

“Oh, man, we have to go, and we have to go
now
.”

The more he spoke, the more anxious he sounded as he contemplated the significance of this startling discovery. His biggest concern was Jacqueline. He imagined her starving to death, or at the very least frightened and cold. He was also terribly concerned about Stephanie’s missing dot, but having seen the same thing happen with Forrester’s, he hoped that this was a variation on that same theme. At any rate, it was clear that they had to get going. Immediately.

Forrester set a gleaming silver wrench on the bed, and Orie popped the switch. He did it quickly and without a spoken word.

He was very spun up about the fact that days had passed on the ‘outside’ while they had had their little recess. Forrester shared his concern.

“I cannot, of course, say why time is passing out beyond us the same as it is here,” he said. “That has never happened before. But I agree with you. We need to make ready and go.”

They went to the house and gathered all of their things. “Is it possible that the time-spell-thing passed with the passing of your friend?” asked Orie, as he strapped on his sword which then curiously disappeared.

Forrester thought about it for a moment and said, “I suppose,” then, “I’m not sure.”

“Well, the thing is, I’m wondering if the entire enchantment of this area, you know, Cirrhus’s farm, will start to pass as well.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, I’m wondering if there’s a certain, limited amount of time that we have to do what we have to do, and then we will no longer be under the protection of any magic.”

Forrester smiled a grim smile. “I guess we’ll have to fend for ourselves then, won’t we.”

Back under the outbuilding, it was time to put what they had learned of the enchanted stone and the portal to the test.

“First off,” he said. “We agree that we’re on our way to the Agden Woods. So I’ll go in the portal.” He checked the switch to be sure it was in the “down” position and handed it off to Forrester, attaching the fenestrated stone to his jacket and making sure that Forrester held the tell-all itself.

Orie’s image appeared in the stone.

“I can see you in this,” said Forrester.

“That’s because it’s keyed to your voice, and, you know, the switch is down.

“Say my name.”

“Orie Alexander Strong.”

“Now say, ‘Orie Alexander Strong, Agden Woods’.” Nothing.

“Try saying… … … ”

On about the fourth try, on the command, “Orie Alexander Strong, transport, Agden Forest,” Orie disappeared and his image in the tell-all noticeably dimmed.

“Are you gone?” asked Forrester.

Orie’s voice came from both the portal and the stone. “I am definitely not in Kansas, Toto.

“No, I mean I’m here, yes, in some sort of forest. Not in the portal anymore. Now, keep the switch in the down position, get in the portal, and do the same thing. Say, ‘Forrester Wiley Ragamund, transport, Agden Forest’.”

In an instant, Forrester was standing in the Agden Forest with his invisible friend. He could, however, see him plain as day in the tell-all.

Orie had already unfolded and was studying one of the maps. “Wow,” he said, “according to this, she is only about twenty, check that, twenty six miles north of us. Come on!”

“Whoa there,” said Forrester. “Twenty six miles is a pretty long hike. And we are in decidedly hostile territory. We run into the Wolves and I, anyway, am lunch. What I want is for you to walk behind me. If we get attacked from the front, I’ll be better able to protect you. If we get attacked from the rear, they won’t see you, and I will at least know where you are.”

Orie fell in behind and they started walking briskly in the general direction of Jacqueline’s position.

“Isn’t it great that the portal worked?” remarked Orie. “That’s the first thing on this whole trip that has gone smoothly.”

The going was remarkably quiet as they padded through the pines, the sound of their footsteps nearly completely muffled by the carpet of pine needles, the earth spongy beneath their feet

When they rested at around noon, they ate small portions of dried, spiced sausage that Forrester had found on one of the shelves in Cirrhus’s kitchen. Seasoned to perfection, it was a much-needed, tasty snack. Added to some dried apples and nuts, and washed down with cold water from a trailside spring, they were refreshed and ready to travel in no time. Orie hooked his drinking flask to his pack and pulled out the maps. They could see that Jacqueline was moving steadily northward at a rate almost as fast as theirs.

“Look at this, Forrester, she is here now. This morning she was there. In another two days, or less, we’ll have made the border. Isn’t that incredible?”

“It is,” agreed Forrester. “How’s everybody else doing?”

“Mom and Dad have not budged. Ryan and Gracie … same. Still no Stephanie. I’m telling you, I’d be a lot more freaked about her missing dot if it had not already happened to you.” He shouldered his pack, declining to speak further about Stephanie’s missing dot.

“I know you would be, Orie. Now let’s try and make some time and catch up to your sister.”

Forrester jogged along now, great strides that ate up the land. Orie loped along behind him. The sounds of the forest were all about them. Birds chirping, squirrel-like critters squabbling over nuts, the occasional call of a coyote. Then, suddenly, there was nothing but silence. Forrester slowed his stride and drew his sword. Orie went to do the same, but before his sword had cleared its scabbard he was bowled over by a massive bear-like creature that was intent on taking Forrester down. Orie’s surprised grunt as he was blasted out of the way was probably what saved Forrester’s life who, when he heard it, whirled and cut a large slash in the chest of the beast. It was hard to figure out which was more bothersome to their attacker, the wound on his chest, or having had his attack-rush foiled by something that he had never seen. But instead of pressing the attack, he stood, immobile as stone, and stared at Forrester as the blood ran down his chest and forelegs and onto the forest floor. His eyes glowed red. They bore the look of hate. Forrester, himself almost as big as the bear-like creature, had backed up against a tree where he stood his ground with his sword held high, waiting for the inevitable charge which, strangely, never happened. The bear-creature lifted his head, sniffed the air, and decided he had had enough, ambling slowly back the way it had come.

“Orie!” called Forrester.

“I’m okay. Good job. Let’s keep going.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine. I would tell you if I wasn’t. Keep going. I’ll be right behind you.”

Once again the sounds of the forest returned, and when dusk finally forced them to stop, they re-examined their maps, and it looked like there was a good chance that they might overtake Jacqueline the very next afternoon.

“What does he want?” asked the general.

“He says he has a message for you. He was pretty bold for a runt of a Troll, ordering me about like I was cheap help. He threatened me in the name of the Emperor. And he stinks like a sewer. Shall I cut his throat?”

“Well,” sighed General Dumfe, “let’s hear the message. If it is valuable to me, I will let him live. If not, you can cut his throat. I care not.”

The owner of the “Happy Troll” shoved Sliphen into the private room in the rear of the bar. He appeared to have lost quite a bit of bravado on the short walk back there and now looked like a nervous schoolboy appearing before the headmaster on a disciplinary issue. He folded his hands in front of him and waited.

“What is that horrible
stench
?” yelped the general.

“I told you,” said the owner. “Shall I?” He placed his hand on his belt dagger.

The general lifted a restraining hand and said, “Leave us.”

The owner bowed subserviently and left, but not before shooting a lethal glance at Sliphen.

“What is it?” asked General Dumfe. “And you had better not be wasting my time.”

“Yes, General, Sir, well, I work as a guard down in the cesspits under the city, and we had a most interesting visitor that I thought you should be aware of.”

“Go on.”

“His name is Maxilius Bravarus … ”

“I
know
him,” interrupted the general. “He was a commander. We served together in battle, years ago. Good fighter. Clever. Resourceful. Go on.” He took a large drink from the glass in front of him, nearly draining it, after which he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his uniform and emitted a large belch.

“Well, General, I happened to be on duty last night when he paid his little visit. He spoke with a Troll named Sivic. They, too, had been together in battle. He told Sivic that he needed to locate a Troll named Forrester Ragamund.”

“And?”

“Sivic told Maxilius Bravarus to go to the area around the Vargus Foothills. He said that if he did that, Forrester Ragamund would probably find
him.
”

“I see,” said the general, folding his arms. He waited for Sliphen to speak again, but he remained silent.

He glanced around to be sure that there was no obvious audience, then leaned in close to Sliphen and beckoned him to do the same. If the stench of the Ghasten sewers that clung to Sliphen was offensive, the general’s breath certainly matched it in foulness, and it was all that either could do to not recoil in disgust.

“You were good to bring this news to me,” he said quietly. “What is your name, anyway?”

“My name is Sliphen,” he answered. “Sliphen Wedor ’eum.”

“Well, Sliphen Wedor ’eum, I say again it was good of you to bring me this news. Now I ask you, and I demand a straight answer, have you shared this news with anyone else? Anyone?”