Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods

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  • #122
    EricEric
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      It felt as if all hell had broken loose this morning. Everyone seemed to look for their heads, and all in the wrong places.

      What he was really looking for, was his heart. Taking about other people, they used to say things like “his heart’s in the right place, you know”, as a form of apology, as if they knew what was the right place. Maybe they all were wrong, and nobody knew for sure.

      In the morning, the ginkgo trees in the lane leading to the fortified city had all started to turn to gold, glittering the path with golden flecks. Magic comes from the heart they all whispered in the cold wind telling tales of first snows. Autumn had arrived late this year, and the weather was playing all kinds of strange choreographies.

      He could do well with a bit of magic, but magic was tricky to harness these days. All the good practitioners of old seemed to have been replaced by snake oil merchants. But the trees still knew about magic.

      He had a theory, that some pockets of old magic remained, shrouded in nature, oblivious to the city-life encroachments, ever-alive and ripe for the picking. He had heard the term “area of enchantment”, and that was to him the perfect description. He knew some sweet spots, near derelict places, gently overgrown with foliage, sitting side by side with the humbums of the busy city life.
      He would ask the trees and vines there if they could help with the unusual wreckage of this morning.

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    • #4516

      “There, it’s ready” Tak said to Glynnis, sniffing the delicious pommade.

      “Just in time for the beautiful moon eclipse”, Margoritt pointed out — she added with a smile “Don’t worry dear, I’m sure Tak replicated it to perfection.”

      “Will be nice to see you with a change of outfit, you totally need a makeover” Eleri added with a high-pitched laugh.

      “I liked that burka” Gorrash said in a grumpgh.

      “Ask her nicely and she might give it to you!” Eleri giggled, unable to stop herself.

      #4521

      “You can’t stay here forever,” said Margoritt. The words came out of the blue and it took a few moments for Glynnis to make sense of them. The two women had been working together in silence as they collected the plentiful purple fruit of the Droog tree in preparation for bottling.

      “Oh, well, no of course not,” said Glynnis without conviction.

      “You are attractive enough now we can see you without those scales,” continued Margoritt sternly. “There is no need to hide away here in the forest. You need to think about what you want to do next.”

      Margoritt’s words stung and Glynnis lifted her hand reflexively to her head. Two small bumps were all that remained of the Sorcerer’s curse. Eleri had cut a fringe for her and the bumps were barely visible. In a funny sort of way, she liked the reminder of the bumps. When she touched them she felt strong.

      Suddenly Margoritt’s shoulders seemed to slump in on her body and Glynnis thought how tiny she had become.

      “There has been no word from the others for several moons now and I think we all need to face facts,” Margoritt said quietly. She put down her basket and leaned against a tree trunk for support. “We’ve tried but we don’t have the resources to fight Leroway any longer and truth is this body is old and tired. I have a sister in the North who I can stay with for a while. Just while I gather my strength.”

      Glynnis was silent. She wished she could find words to reassure Margoritt but knew anything she said would sound trite. They were both aware of the dangers which faced the travellers. And though she had tried, she had not found a spell to contact them.

      “The mountain will not give up its treasure easily but I know they would hasten to return if they were able. And they have much strength between them. We must not give up hope,” she said softly at last and Margoritt nodded.

      Glynis shivered. The Droog trees were casting long shadows over the garden like twisted old men. “It’s getting cold … maybe we should go in. Tomorrow is soon enough to make plans.”

      #4523

      Glynis woke early but did not want to open her eyes. Last night’s conversation had gone on till late and was still heavy on her eyelids. She could hear the kettle whistling in the kitchen and small clinks and clatters of morning activity and some muffled conversation. Margoritt and Eleri were also up early.

      “They can’t do that!” Eleri was saying angrily when Glynis walked into the room. She shook a piece of paper accusingly in Glynis’s direction. “They say we’ve got a week to vacate the cottage before they begin the demolition. A week!” She crumpled the letter and flung it on the table.

      “I know,” said Glynis. “Margoritt showed me the letter last night.”

      “Morning, Glynis,” said Margoritt. “Pomegranate tea?”

      “Yes, thanks.” Glynis sat down opposite Eleri and picked up the letter. She smoothed it out, thoughtful.

      “Well?” Eleri persisted. “They can’t do this. Forcing Margoritt out of her home.”

      Margoritt placed a cup of steaming pomegranate tea in front of Glynis and sat down. Glynis noticed she had used the dainty floral tea set which was kept for “best”.

      “I had an idea in the night,” said Glynis. “It might be crazy but it might just buy us some time.”

      The others looked at her enquiringly. “We are all ears,” encouraged Eleri.

      “I used to make an invisibility potion which would render a person invisible for a time. I think it might be possible to make a stronger brew and cloak the whole cottage. I would need to adjust the spell and we would need huge quantities of the potion but I think it might just work. It might buy us some time till the others get back. They can’t pull down what they can’t find!”

      #4524

      The air was crisp and dry in the mountains. They had been walking for days under the guidance of their local guide Strumpjioku, whose name was simply pronounced Sok despite or because a very complicated writing system. It seemed to interest Rukshan a lot but Fox had had some brain freeze trying to understand their guide’s nebulous and proud explanations about it.
      Of course, it might have been caused also by the lack of air. They were so high in the mountains, and at times Fox had even seen and heard things that should not have been there. Especially during the long nights when packs of wild dogs barked endlessly. Fox understood their language. They were hunting things. It wasn’t clear what, but Fox could sometimes sense a lingering smell carried by the otherwise empty air that he couldn’t identify.

      They had established camp for the night and Sok was busy cooking for them. Fox growled miserably. He didn’t fancy too much the spicy food that seem the only thing they could get in those mountains. He missed the running hens of Margoritt’s cottage in the forest and her secret mushroom sauce that was to die for. He would even have eaten her ratatouille with only vegetables.

      Rukshan was trying to cast a fae spell in order to contact their friend Lhamom who had left them for a special ceremony in a temple. She said it was for her friend Donny whose mother had passed away recently. Being in a hurry as they were, they didn’t insist to wait. Lhamom said she could catch up on them later. The spell failed again and Rukshan cursed.

      Dogs started to bark loudly. Not too soon after the strange smell became stronger, and it made Fox nervous, especially hearing to the hunting dogs.

      Fox approached Rukshan.
      “The dogs are hunting something, he said.
      “As long as they don’t hunt us, retorted Rukshan with a shrug. He seemed upset by his failed attempt and not too eager to talk.
      Fox caught Sok looking at them, but the guide turned back to his cooking when he saw Fox looking at him.
      “That won’t help me sleep”, mumbled Fox more grumpy than usual.

      #4526

      There had been more than one occasion over the past few days when Glynis wondered if all the trouble and effort was worth it. As a rule, Glynnis preferred to go with the natural flow of events and trust all was working out as it should, even if she did not always understand the big picture. It seemed to her that once one started fighting for things, well really, there would seem to be no end of injustices one could get involved in. But she cared about her friends and was determined to persevere with the plan.

      “Are you nearly done?” Eleri bounded into the kitchen where Glynis was intently stirring a concoction of herbs in a large saucepan. “Oh my god! It smells disgusting. Maybe the stink alone will scare them off and you don’t even need the magic spell!”

      “It’s not going to get done any quicker with you asking every few minutes,” snapped Glynnis. “I need a mirror.”

      Eleri regarded her with quizzically. “This is no time for vanity, Glynnis!” she said firmly.

      “Very funny. I need a mirror for the invisibility spell. I am nearly done. Oh, and you need to purify the mirror with sage to ward off bad energy.”

      “For sure, I’m on it!” said Eleri, eager to assist and speed the agonising slow process up anyway she could.

      It had taken nearly two days, toiling well into the night, to create the spell to Glynis’s satisfaction. But now it was nearly done and she was excited to try it.

      “Gather round, Everybody,” she called. “We are going to have a trial run.”

      #4527

      The trial run was not a complete success, and so it was back to the cooking pot and the agonizingly slow wait.

      The spell and the magic concoction had rendered the three women partially invisible: it seemed that anything with the colour yellow in it (including of course green and orange and so on) remained plainly visible. Pathways of bile had been illuminated like never before: it was not a pleasant sight.

      “I always have trouble with the damn yellows,” remarked Eleri with a despondent sigh, as her hand absentmindedly rubbed her solar plexus. “Hey!” she elbowed Glynis in the ribs, “I just had a thought! Maybe you need to put something purple in the pot.”

      Glynis predictably enough rolled her eyes at Eleri and asked with a snort, “Such as?”

      “I don’t know but you know how they always tell you to twirl your yellows with purple.” Eleri’s face fell and her shoulders sagged. “I don’t know, Glynis, it’s all so discouraging. I miss the others, it’s too damn quiet around here these days. You’d think we’d be able to amuse ourselves, and that makes it even more depressing, doesn’t it? How on earth are we going to snap out of it?”

      “Speak for yourself you miserable tart, I’m busy trying to make this potion so we can get out of here. Just try to buck up, will you! If I had time I’d make you a Buck the Fuck Up potion, but can’t you see I’m busy!” Glynis slammed the wooden spoon down on the counter and burst into tears.

      Eleri raised an eyebrow and said sagely, “Who’s calling who a miserable tart now then, eh!” and then ducked as the wooden spoon came hurtling towards her.

      “Now now,” said Margoritt, “We’re all a bit stressed, no need to take it out on each other. Group hug!”

      “Oh piss off,” replied Eleri and Glynis in unison. “We’re not that desperate,” added Eleri.

      #4530

      “I think what we need now is a fairy godmother,” said Glynnis.
      “Do you have a spell for that?” Eleri looked hopeful.

      #4531

      “The potion should have worked. I’ve been over it again and again and … I need to get out for a bit. Clear my head.”

      Margoritt frowned. “Are you sure? It’s getting dark out there. Take Tak with you. He’d love to go for a walk!”

      “No, I just need to be alone at the moment. Sorry, Tak … later maybe, okay, little buddy?” Glynis ruffled his head and ignored his pleading eyes.

      “Take a jacket then. You’ll find a spare one of mine hanging up by the front door.”

      “You’re daft,” said Eleri.

      The night was closing in quickly and Glynnis was glad of Margoritt’s woollen jacket as she hugged it tightly around herself to ward off the evening chill. She walked quickly, partly for warmth but mostly hoping she could somehow out-pace the painful thoughts which bumped around in her head.

      The problem is I have no vision, no goals, no dreams. I have spent so many years ignoring the call of my dreams that they no longer cry out to me. No wonder I can’t make a spell to work any longer. Magic comes from the heart and my heart is dead!

      #4533

      Eleri was starting to feel uneasy. “I’m going after her!” she cried, and sprang over to the hat stand, but Margoritt stood firmly in her way.

      “Oh no you don’t, and leave me here on my own, worrying about the pair of you?”

      “Pass me that bowler hat, Margoritt, there’s not a moment to lose. A particular kind of magic is called for but don’t ask me to explain, just pass me the hat!”

      #4534

      Of course the spell failed! Glynis continued to berate herself sternly. She had approached it mostly as an intellectual exercise and she realised now her heart had not been fully engaged in the spell-making. For sure she cared about Margoritt and the fate of the cottage but if she were completely honest, there was a large part of her wondering what the point of it was. It may buy them some time, but how much use was that unless the others returned soon with the treasure?

      It took potent magic to cloak an object as large as the cottage — how foolish she had been to think she could perform a spell this powerful with cloudy intentions.

      Maybe there is still a way. Even if my own heart is divided, perhaps if we all work together the spell may still succeed.

      It was at this moment Glynis noticed several things. Firstly, that she was no longer quite sure where she was and that at some point she must have left the track and secondly, how dark it had become. Just a faint, rapidly fading light still illuminated the ground in patches through the trees.

      #4535

      North South East and West
      I call for those who know the best
      What is lost must now be found
      Take my luck and turn it around

      Though the night air was heavy and still, the lower branches of a nearby Oak rustled and bowed gently before her as though waving her forward. One by one, puddles of dirty grey light on the ground shone brightly, creating the effect of a twinkling, glowing path moving through the darkness.

      Magic is pretty easy when your intention is clear, thought Glynis.

      #4536

      Eleri gave the bowler hat on her head a little pat of appreciation as the light pools appeared illuminating the path. She could see Glynis up ahead, stumbling less now, and striding more purposefully. But where was she going in such a hurry? What would she do when she got there, where ever it was, and what would she, Eleri, do about it? What, in fact, was she doing following Glynis; didn’t she have a path of her own?

      She stopped suddenly, struck by an idea. Making the cottage invisible was Glynis’s path, Glynis’s method. But Eleri had her own methods, her own skills and her own magic. She could turn Leroway into a statue, and even all his followers, if need be, although she suspected they would disperse readily enough once the leaders booming personality and voice was permanently stilled. She couldn’t have done it if her friend Jolly was still with him, of course. But things were different now. Drastic measures were called for.

      Eleri tapped the bowler hat meaningfully, and immediately a trail of flickering pools of light appeared down a side path off to the left. I have the ingredients I need at home, Home! Eleri snorted with laughter at herself. I’d forgotten all about home, ever since that terrible flu! I’ve just been following everyone else, trying to remember everyone’s names and keep up with everyone elses events and I’d forgotten I have a home of my own, and my own skills, too. I have my own magic ingredients, and my own magic methods. And now, I have an idea to execute. She winced slightly at the word ~ was turning a man to stone the same as an execution in the usual sense? Best not to think about that, it was for the greater good, after all. And it wasn’t as if Leroway was going to be removed, buried and hidden underground: he would hate that. He was going to be immortalized into a timeless memorial, for all to see for ever more. Eleri felt sure that in the wider picture he would heartily approve.

      First, she must go home to her cottage and studio for the required ingredients. Then she had to seduce Leroway. She needed a little time with him to apply the method, it couldn’t be done is a flashy abracadabra kind of way. Now that Jolly was out of the way, Eleri found that she was quite looking forward to it.

      #4537

      Fox’s stomach growled and resonated on the cave’s walls. He feared it would awaken the others. It was cold and he curled up inside his ten blankets made of yak wool, tempted to turn into a fox to get extra fur.

      After being caught in a snowstorm, they had found a cave with a frozen toothless body. Rukshan had used incense and chanting to perform a commummycation spell, and to everyone’s surprise, Lhamom’s voice came out of the toothless frozen mouth. It was feeble and was full of sharp crystalline harmonics that made Fox’s grind his teeth. Because the commummycation was bad, Rukshan had to lean closer, almost touching its face. Fox shivered incontrollably, unable to know if it was of disgust or of cold.
      Rukshan told them that Lhamom had been rescued by a hellishcopter from the underworld and was on her way to extract them from the ice. He seemed as puzzled as Fox, but their guide seemed to know the strange beast and assumed their friend was blessed because hellishcopters were not known to help strangers.

      Dogs barked in the distance. Fox winced and wondered why he came to the mountain. He wished he could be back to simple cottage life in the enchanted forest. Then he recalled it was not that simple at the moment and he wondered how their friends were dealing with their own problems.

      He couldn’t sleep, like the previous nights and he didn’t dare go to far from the camp to relieve his bowels by fear of the hungry dogs.
      He also had had dreams. Strange dreams of master Gibbon’s home in the forest threatened by dozens of bulls with bright red eyes running angrily toward his unaware master. Each time Fox woke up when the bulls were about to crush the hut and master Gibbons opened his eyes, his face hurling towards Fox. Afterwards he never could go back to sleep. So he waited. He waited for their friend Lhamom to arrive as she promised.

      #4538

      The next morning Fox woke up exhausted. He was surprised he could even sleep at all. The sound of someone walking in the snow filled in his ears and he looked around him. There was nobody in the cave with him, except for one little rat looking at him from the top of a bag of food. Fox shooed it away with wide movements of his arms and he regretted immediately when all the warmth kept under the blankets dissolved in the cold morning air. But he noticed there was improvement in his health as he felt hungry.

      He decided it was no good being lazy in a bed and put on a few more layers of clothes. He took some dry oatcakes from the bag where the rat had looked at him earlier, and made sure they were securely wrapped before he left the cave.

      The air was clear and crisp, and the ground had been covered in a thick layer of blinding white snow. The brightness hurt Fox’s eyes and he had to cover then with his hands. He walked towards Rukshan’s voice and his heart leaped in his chest when he recognised their friend Lhamom. She had come at last. She looked at Fox.

      “You look dreadful,” she said. “It is time I got to you.”
      “Yes,” said Fox, and he was surprised that this simple word could carry such great relief.

      That’s when Fox noticed the big old spoon Lhamom had in her hands.

      “This is the magical artefact we were looking for. I found it on my way to see you and fortunately I had chocolate bars with me that I could trade for it with the monks.”

      Fox’s stomach growled. Maybe he would have preferred she kept the chocolate.

      “Does that mean that we can go home?” asked Fox, a tear in his eyes.

      Rukshan gave his friend a strange look before answering.

      “Yes. We are going… home.”

      #4539

      Fox, layered in warm clothes, looked dubiously at the hellishcopter. He had assumed it was fantastic and awe inspiring creature from the underworld. But it wasn’t.

      “It’s a carpet with a circular wooden platform,” he said, feeling a bit disappointed. He noticed the steam that formed out of his mouth with every word and it made him feel cold despite the numerous layers around him.
      The carpet was floating limply above its shadow on the snow. It looked old and worn out by years of use. The reds blues and greens were dull and washed-out, and it was hard to tell apart the original motives from stains. Oddly enough it was clear of dust.

      “Not just a carpet, said Lhamom with her usual enthusiasm illuminating her face. It’s a magic carpet.” She wore that local coat of them which looked so thin compared to his multiple layers, but she had assured him it was warm enough for far worse temperatures. Steam was also coming out of her mouth when she talked.

      Fox was still not convinced. “And how fast does it go?”

      “Fast enough,” said Lhamom. “You’ll all be back in no time to the forest.”
      “Isn’t there a risk for the luggage to fall off? I don’t see any practical way to attach them.”
      “Oh! Sure,” retorted Lhamom with an amused look. “You won’t fall from the platform unless someone pushes you out.”
      Fox winced and gulped. His mind had showed him someone shaken by an uncontrollable movement and pushing him off the platform above the sharp mountain tops, and even if it his fantasy had no sound, it was not very reassuring.

      Lhamom looked at him sharply. “Are you afraid of heights?” she asked.
      Fox shrugged and looked away at Rukshan who was busy packing the camp with Olliver and their guide.
      “What if I am?” Fox said.
      “I have some pills,” she said, foraging in her numerous pockets. She brandished victoriously an old little wooden box that she opened and showed him brown pills that looked and smelled like they had been made by dung beetles.

      Rukshan had finished his packing and was approaching them with a messenger bag.
      “Don’t play with him too much, he said, in his current state Fox’s will swallow everything, except food.” Rukshan and Olliver laughed. Fox didn’t know what to make of it, feeling too exhausted to find clever retorts. Lhamom winked at him and put the pills back in her pocket.

      Rukshan put his hand on Fox’s shoulder. “We’re going home through a sand portal, he said giving putting a hand on his bag. I’ve gathered coloured sand from the different places we visited and Lhamom had brought some holy dripping water collected from the running nose of the lama headmaster of Pulmol Mountain when he last had a cold.”
      That sounded a little complicated to Fox and he didn’t try to make sense of it.
      “We’ll only go on the hellishcopter to fly throught the portal with all the stuff we collected. But I need time to make the sand portal, and from what you reported the dogs have said, we may only have little time available before that thing you have felt come to us.”

      Fox started. With his bowel adventures and Rukshan’s previous dismissal of the matter, Fox had forgotten about the odd presence he had smelled and that had seemed to preoccupy the hunting dogs at night.
      “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to not let worry crept back in his mind.
      “I first thought it was fantasies coming out of your imagination because of your poor health condition, but when I told Lhamom this morning she told me what it was.” Rukshan hesitated.
      “What? asked Fox, his heartbeat going faster.
      “Some kind of ancient spirit roaming through the mountain. It feeds of human flesh and is attracted by magic. It was liberated by an earthquake recently and it that Olliver and Tak felt. Up until now the dogs, who are the gardians of the mountains, were enough to ward it off for us despite the presence of the baby snoot. But now that Lhamom has brought the spoon and that I’m going to use magic for the portal, it may get bolder and the dogs will not be enough to stop it. Fortunately it only gets out at night, so we have ample enough time, Rukshan said cheerfully. Olliver also is exhausted and he can’t use his teleporting abilities for all of us. By using a sand portal I may even be able to lay a trap for the spirit when we leave, but I need to begin now and let’s pray the weather remains clear and windless.”

      It took some time for the meaning and the implications of flesh eating to sink into Fox’s mind. He looked nervously at the sky where it seemed a painter had splashed a few white strokes of clouds with his giant brush. Were they still or moving? Fox couldn’t tell. He looked back at Rukshan and Lhamom.
      “What can I do to help?”
      “I need you to explain the plan to the dogs so that they release the spirit when I give the signal.”

      #4540

      Talking with the dogs. That’s what Fox had to do. Easier said than done, he thought scratching his head. His previous encounters with dogs were rather tumultuous and limited to being hunted down in the forest during a hunting party or being chased at the market because he had caught a hen. He had never really talked to dogs before, unless taunting counted of course.

      Rukshan had said it was urgent, but Fox found there were so many little things to do before, like tidying up the cave, putting some suncream on his sensitive red head skin, or trying to see if Lhamom needed help.

      But after some time, Fox realised he had to go eventually. Everyone else was busy with their own part of the plan. Rukshan was building the sand mandala on a flat surface that he and Olliver had cleared, and Lhamom was finishing a makeshift screen to protect the mandala from the wind with a few bamboo poles and rolls of fabrics she had found on her journey here. It was very colourful fabric with Bootanese patterns that Fox wouldn’t have used to cover a chair. It felt too busy for him.

      So, he went to see Lhamom as she was struggling to plant the last stick in the rocky ground.

      “Have you talked to the dogs? she asked.
      “Ehr, not yet,” mumbled Fox who felt a bit ashamed when Lhamom frowned. “I think I need to give some kind of present to the dogs and I was wondering if you had something suitable in your many bags.”
      “Oh! Sure. Can you finish that for me then?” she asked.
      “Sure,” said Fox. He replaced her with the bamboo stick and, as she was walking away, he shouted: “I don’t think chocolate will do this time.”
      “Oh! I know,” she said with a smile and a wink. It cheered Fox up a little bit, but a gush of wind called him back to his task of holding the pole. Once he secured it he put on an awkward smile, but noticed that Rukshan and Olliver were too busy to have noticed.

      Lhamom came back with a big ham which Fox thought was more than suitable. He thanked her and made a joke about leaving her with her pole that he thought afterword he should not have done and walked away from the camp in the crunchy snow.

      Fox had been aware that the dogs were observing him, and especially the big ham he was carrying. A few of them had begun to gather at a distance and they were beginning to whine, which attracted more of them. When he estimated he was far enough from the camp he put the ham down. He couldn’t transform into that many layers of clothes so he started to undress, watching wearily the dogs that were now growling.

      It was freezing outside and Fox was shocked by how skinny his body had become. He shivered badly and focused to change into his natural red fox. It took him a little bit longer than usual but when the fur grew and started to keep the warmth close to his body, he growled with pleasure. The world around him changed as his senses transformed. Colours were different and slightly less varied, sounds were more crisp and a profusion of noises he couldn’t hear as a human suddenly vied for his attention: the sound of the wind on the rocks, the harmonics of the dogs’ voices, and the scents… simply incomparable. He wished he had kept the ham for himself.

      “It’s a fox!” barked a voice.
      “Let’s kill it!” said another.
      “Where’s the two-legged gone?” asked a young dog.
      “Who cares? It brought us meat. It’s gone. Let’s eat!”

      Fox suddenly regretted he had made a full change.

      #4541

      The full moon was high and a cluster of fireflies were flying stubbornly around a lone corkscrew bush. The baby rainbow creatures were playing like young squirrels, running and jumping around on Gorrash’s arms and head.
      The dwarf was still, as if he hadn’t awoken from his curse despite the darkness of the night. He was looking at the bush illuminated by the fireflies and his the dim glows of the rainbow babies were giving his face a thoughtful look.
      My life is certainly as complicated as the shrub’s twisted branches, he thought, his heart uneasy.

      The others all had been busy doing their own things during the day, like Glynis with her invisibility potion, or Eleri with her Operation Courtesan. Rukshan went away with a goal too, finding the source of the blue light the children had seen in their dreams and he left for the mountains with Olliver and Fox.
      Margoritt was an old lady and with all the fuss about the upcoming eviction and destruction of her nice little cottage farm she had been tired and went to sleep early. Gorrash understood very well all of that.
      A ball of sadness and frustration gathered in his throat. The rainbow babies stopped and looked at him with drooping eyes.

      “Mruiii?” they said as if asking him what it all was about.
      “Don’t do that, you’re gonna make me cry,” he said. The raspiness of his voice surprised him and distracted him from the sadness.
      “Mruii,” said the little creatures gathering closer to him as if to sooth him. He shed a few tears. He felt so lonely and frustrated because he couldn’t be with his friends during the day. And the summer nights were so short.

      Gorrash didn’t like the sadness. It made the nights seem longer, and the joyous explorations of Glynis’s garden seemed so far away.

      I have to find a project for myself, he thought. Maybe find a cure to my own curse like Glynis.
      Gorrash felt a tinge of bitterness in his mouth. Why? he wondered. Why didn’t my maker come lift my curse like that man came to deliver Glynis from hers?
      He regretted this thought, if anything it only made him feel more miserable and lonely.

      An owl hooted and there was some noise coming from the house. Light was lit in the kitchen, and soon after the door opened. It was Glynis. She carried a small crate written Granola Cookies, but it was full of potions and other utensils. Her eyes looked tired but her face was shining. Since she used that potion to cure herself, she had had that inner glow, and despite himself Gorrash felt it started to warm his heart with hope.

      “I will need some help,” said Glynis.
      The rainbow babies ran around and changed colours rapidly.
      “Sure, I can do that,” answered Gorrash. And as he said that he realised he had felt the need to talk to someone so badly.
      They sat near the corkscrew shrub and Glynis began to get her stuff out of the crate. She drew the shape of a circle with a white chalk that shone under the moonlight and gave Gorrash eight candlesticks to place around the circle. Gorrash placed them a bit too conscientiously around, and he felt the need to talk become stronger, making him restless.
      “Can I tell you something?” he asked, unsure if she would want to listen to his doubts.
      “Of course. I need to reinforce the charm before the others arrival. It will take some time before I actually do the spell. We can talk during that time.”

      Encouraged by her kindness, he told her everything that had been troubling his heart.

      #4543

      In the white silence of the mountains, Rukshan was on his knees on a yakult wool rug pouring blue sand from a small pouch on a tricky part of the mandala that looked like a small person lifting his arms upwards. Rukshan was just in the right state of mind, peaceful and intensely focused, in the moment.
      It was more instinct than intellect that guided his hands, and when he felt inside him something click, he stopped pouring the sand. He didn’t take the time to check if it was right, he trusted his guts.
      He held the pouch to his right and said: “White”. Olliver took the pouch of blue and replaced it with another. Rukshan resumed pouring and white sand flew in a thin stream on the next part of the mandala.

      After a few hours of the same routine, only broken by the occasional refreshments and drinks that Olliver brought him, the mandala was finished and Rukshan stood up to look at the result. He moved his shoulders to help relieve the tensions accumulated during the hard day of labor. He felt like an old man. His throat was dry with thirst but his eyes gleamed with joy at the result of hours of hard concentration.

      “It’s beautiful,” said Olliver with awe in his voice.
      “It is, isn’t it?” said Rukshan. He accepted a cup of warm and steaming yakult tea that Olliver handed him and looked at the boy. It was the first time that Olliver had spoken during the whole process.
      “Thanks, Olli,” said Rukshan, “you’ve been very helpful the whole time. I’m a little bit ashamed to have taken your whole time like that and make you stand in the cold without rest.”
      “Oh! Don’t worry,” said the boy, “I enjoyed watching you. Maybe one day you can teach me how to do this.”
      Rukshan looked thoughtfully at the boy. The mandala drew its power from the fae’s nature. There could certainly be no danger in showing the technique to the boy. It could be a nice piece of art.
      “Sure!” he said. “Once we are back. I promise to show you.”
      A smile bloomed on Olliver’s face.

      :fleuron:

      In the white silence of the mountain, Lhamom sat on a thick rug of yakult wool in front of a makeshift fireplace. She had finished packing their belongings, which were now securely loaded on the hellishcarpet, and decided it was cooking time. For that she had enrolled the young lad, Olliver, to keep her company instead of running around and disturbing Rukshan. The poor man… the poor manfae, Lhamom corrected, had such a difficult task that he needed all his concentration and peace of mind.

      Lhamom stirred the content of the cauldron in a slow and regular motion. She smiled because she was also proud of her idea of a screen made of yakult wool and bamboo poles, cut from the haunted bamboo forest. It was as much to protect from the wind as it was for the fae’s privacy and peace of mind.

      “It smells good,” said Olliver, looking with hungry eyes at what Lhamom was doing.
      “I know,” she said with pride. “It’s a specialty I learned during the ice trek.”
      “Can you teach me?” ask Olliver.
      “Yes, sure.” She winked. “You need a special blend of spiced roots, and use pootatoes and crabbage. The secret is to make them melt in yakult salted butter for ten minutes before adding the meat and a bucket of fresh snow.”

      They continued to cook and talk far all the afternoon, and when dusk came Lhamom heard Rukshan talk behind his screen. He must have finished the mandala, she thought. She smiled at Olliver, and she felt very pleased that she had kept the boy out of the manfae’s way.

      :fleuron:

      Fox listened to the white silence of the mountain during that brief moment, just after the dogs had made it clear, despite all the promises of food, that they would not help the two-leggeds with their plan.

      Fox sighed. For an instant, all felt still and quiet, all was perfectly where it ought to be.

      The instant was brief, quickly interrupted by a first growl, joined by a second and a third, and soon the entire pack of mountain dogs walked, all teeth out, towards a surrounded Fox. He looked around. There was no escape route. He had no escape plan. His stomach reminded him that instant that he was still sick. He looked at the mad eyes of the dogs. They hadn’t even left the bones from the meat he gave them earlier. He gulped in an attempt to remove the lump of anguish stuck in his throat. There would be no trace of him left either. Just maybe some red on the snow.

      He suddenly felt full of resolve and camped himself on his four legs; he would not go without a fight. His only regret was that he couldn’t help his friends go home.
      We’ll meet in another life, he thought. Feeling wolfish he howled in defiance to the dogs.
      They had stopped and were looking uncertain of what to do next. Fox couldn’t believe he had impressed them.

      “Come,” said a voice behind him. Fox turned surprised. On the pile of his clothes stood Olliver.
      How did you,” he yelped before remembering the boy could not understand him.
      “Hurry! I can teleport us back to the camp,” said the boy with his arms opened.

      Without a second thought Fox jumped in Olliver’s arms and the next thing he knew was that they were back at the camp. But something was off. Fox could see Rukshan busy making his mandala and Olliver was helping him with the sand. Then he could see Lhamom cooking with the help of another Olliver.
      Fox thought it might be some case of post teleportation confusion. He looked at the Olliver who helped him escape an imminent death, the fox head slightly tilted on the side, the question obvious in its eyes.
      “Please don’t tell them,” said Olliver, his eyes pleading. “It just happened. I felt a little forgotten and wanted so much to be useful.”

      Fox turned back into a human, too surprised to feel the bite of the cold air.
      “Oh! Your clothes,” said Olliver before he disappeared. Fox didn’t have time to clear his mind before the boy was back with the clothes.

      #4545

      “That is unfortunate,” said Rukshan when Fox told him about the dogs’ answer. They were all gathered around the fire on rough rugs for a last meal before activating the portal. For a moment shadow and light struggled on Rukshan’s face as the flames of the fire licked the woods, making it crack and break. A few sparkles flew upward into the dark starry night.

      Lhamom used the magic metal spoon to serve steaming soup in carved wooden bowls, and Olliver was doing the service.
      When he took his, Fox felt a chilly breeze find its way past his blanket. He shivered, put the bowl on the carpet in front of him and attempted to readjust the yakult wool blanket in a vain attempt to make it windproof. He took back the bowl and took a sip. The dogs barked in the distance. They were impatient to start the hunt. Fox shivered again.

      “I could still serve as bait,” Fox said because he felt it was his fault if the plan failed. “You know, surprise the dogs while they are focused on the Shadow and make it follow me to trap it into the portal after we crossed it.”

      “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Rukshan. “It’s too dangerous. If you try to do that, we could have not one but two problems to solve. And you might get stuck too.”

      Fox tried not to think about the implications of being stuck here, or in between the portals. He looked at Olliver who was looking at his soup as if it was the most important thing in the world.

      Rukshan shook his head. “No. It was a foolish of me to hope those dogs would help us.”

      “What can we do then?” asked Lhamom. They all drank their soup, the silence only broken by the fire cracking and the dogs barking.

      “I can be in several places at once,” said Olliver quickly. Fox held his breath.
      Lhamom and Rukshan looked at the boy.

      “I know,” said Lhamom. “You were so helpful today with the cooking and all.”
      “What do you mean?” asked Rukshan. “Olliver was with me helping me with the sand all day.” He stopped. His face showed sudden understanding. “Oh! Of course,” he said. “The book we burnt. The shard’s power was not only teleportation, but also ubiquity.” Rukshan turned to look at Fox. “You don’t seem surprised.”

      Fox shrugged, making his blanket slip off of his shoulders slightly. Before he answered he adjusted it back quickly before the warmth he had accumulated could vanish into the night. “Well I saw him… I mean them. How do you think I came out of the negotiation alive? I can not teleport! I don’t even know what my powers are, or if I have any now that the shards have gone.”

      “Grace and miracles,” said Rukshan with a grin.
      A strange cristalline noise rang to Fox’s hears.
      “What? Oh! Yes. Well, that explains it then,” he said, feeling a mix of grumpiness and contentment. He finished his soup and was about to leave the comfort of his blanket to take some stew when Lhamom took the bowl from his hands. She gave him a good serving and gave him back his bowl.

      “What is it about shards and powers?” she asked.
      Fox, Rukshan and Olliver looked at each other.
      “It’s…” started Fox.
      “It’s a long story,” cut Rukshan.

      “Don’t make as if I said nothing important,” said Olliver.
      The red of the flames enhances his angry look, thought Fox.
      “I can be at two places, even more, at once. I can still be the bait and go back home with you at the same time.”

      A dog barked impatiently.

      “Yes,” said Fox.
      “I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” said Rukshan, concern on his face.
      “Why? I’m not a boy anymore, if that’s what it’s all about. I can do it. I already did it this afternoon.”
      “Well this afternoon was nice and cosy, wasn’t it? You had plenty of light, and yes you helped Fox escape from the dogs, so you can certainly do it. But what about the Shadow spirit. We have no idea what it is, or what it can do to you. And what will happen if one of you get killed?”

      Once again, they fell silent. There was a dog bark and that strange cristalline noise again. It sounded closer.
      “What’s that noise?” asked Olliver. Fox suddenly realised the strange noise had nothing to do with the sound of miracles, but it was a real noise in the real world.
      “What noise?” asked Lhamom. “And what are you all talking about, shards and powers and ubiquity?”
      “I can hear it too,” said Fox. “I’ve heard it before, but thought it was just me.”

      The noise happened again, this time sounding a lot like metallic ropes snapping on ice.
      Fox wriggled his nose. There was the smell of an animal and of a human.
      “I think someone is coming,” he said, sniffing the cold air. “A donkey and a human.”

      It was not too long before they saw an odd woman riding a donkey. She was playing a lyre made of ice, the strings of which had a faint glow. The woman was smiling like she was having the best adventure of her life.
      “Hi guys. I came to help you. You didn’t think I would remain forgotten in my cave, did you?”

      Kumihimo! Ronaldo!” said Lhamom, standing up.

      #4546

      “Good lord, is that little dog still coughing?” Eleri asked, disentangling herself from Alexandria’s dreadlocks which had wrapped themselves around her bowler hat as they embraced and kissed a greeting. “After all this time?”

      “He’s been waiting for you to come home,” Alexandria said reproachfully, making Eleri feel guilty and defensive.

      “I had a terrible bout of memory flu, and forgot all about him,” she replied with a pang in the region of her heart. How on earth did I completely forget I left that little dog here? she wondered.

      “Well, never mind,” Alexandria said, softening. “He’s been well looked after, and I’ve enjoyed staying here while you’ve been away. I’ve been wondering if you’d mind if I stayed on here, what with all the trouble with Leroway. Makes me feel ill, all that division and fighting; I just don’t want to go back.”

      Eleri beamed at her old friend. “I think that would work out perfectly! That little dogs cough isn’t driving you mad, though?”

      “Oh he does a bit, sure, but there are worse things in life, eh,” she said with a rueful grin. “But come, you must be hungry and thirsty after your journey home, come inside, come inside.”

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