Chapter 14

Lenny spent an uneasy night in a tree house. Cheryl and Ralph had found the swaying lofty bed more than pleasant, but their brother did not sleep until he remembered Chumégal, the magnifying glass. He pulled it out and watched the amethysts glow softly, complementing the soft blue light of the trees, which had seemed to dim when it was time to sleep. Lenny slept deeply and peacefully after that.

The next morning they sorrowfully took their leave of the Allistrey Elves. Tears stood in Viara's eyes as she said her farewells to Chaeremon. The elf-leader took her hands and kissed them.

"Good-bye, fair Promise," he murmured. "May we soon meet again."

"Farewell, my valiant Chaeremon." She turned away with a sob, for she sensed that danger lied ahead, and that this might be the last time she would ever see him.

Morralitha embraced Cheryl warmly. "We share much," the Princess said softly. "Last night I neglected to tell you of the power of our Seeing Stones."

Cheryl was puzzled. "You mean the wisdom that seems to fill me?"

"There is more." The Dark Maiden pulled out Golíenna and opened the locket. "You see, by pouring into this stone my yearning to know what is happening to those I love, I can see what is happening to them."

Cheryl's eyes were wide. "You mean," she said, her voice shaking, "I can see my sister in the Stone?"

Morralitha nodded. "Also at times images that make little sense will be seen in the Stone. These, I believe, are messages from Abba warning of far-away events. When Ryoo sent the Katamobi to destroy the lands of Verdain and Viara, I saw in Golíenna harsh blowing sand beating at and destroying a green vale." The Princess shuddered. "It was horrible."

But Cheryl hardly heard her. Her mind was stuck on one track. "I can see Sarah?" she asked again. "How?"

"Hold the open locket in your hand and let your love and concern flow into it. I'm sure you can discover the way."

Cheryl nodded.

Tekoa and Olírin arrived bearing provisions that had been prepared for the six travelers to take with them. The three Terrans received their special backpacks happily. The others also took their burdens with pleasure, and they were ready to set off.

Chaeremon led them to the path they were to take to reach Prince Emrey's clan, and they once more said good-bye to Morralitha, Chaeremon, Tekoa, and Olírin.

The minstrel, Jóram, had also come to see them off. As they headed down the path, he played and sang a farewell blessing to speed their way.

Two days later they reached the dwelling places of the Trastille Elves.

Cheryl and the others stepped out of the trees into the large clearing, peering around in search of the elves that lived there.

A village stood in the center of the clearing. The peat houses were laid out in no definite pattern, but seemed to be scattered in harmony with the natural vegetation. Gardens of vegetables, flowers, and herbs accompanied every cottage, well tended and showing the signs of frequent upkeep, but they saw no one.

Emrey called a greeting, but there was no answer. The village seemed devoid of elvish life. No smoke rose from the stone chimneys, no children played in the flowery meadow, no women called greetings from their washing tubs, no grandparents looked up from the gardens to smile their welcome.

Viara looked worried. "Where is everyone? What has happened to our fair village?"

Emrey didn't answer, but his face was pale.

Cheryl shuddered. "I sense evil. It feels like the rotten spot."

Emrey threw a startled glance her way, then hurried into the village, calling the names of his kin. "Nola! Crispin! Elmirie! Children of my father, friends of my youth, where are you? Jilicon! Maedoc! Zeresh!"

The children stood at the edge of the village in indecision, but Viara flew to a certain cottage and flung open the door, calling for her family. She found no trace of habitation, and neither did the others when they gathered courage to join the search.

The fires were burning out, prepared food stood untouched on the wooden tables. Chairs and stools were pushed away from the tables askew, some on their sides, showing the haste with which they had been vacated.

"But what?" Viara asked, fear in her voice, when they again gathered for a council. "From what did our clansmen flee in such fear? And where have they gone?"

"I know not," Emrey softly replied, "but greatly do I fear the answer."

Cheryl trembled. "Do you think--I mean--could--is it possible Ryoo--"

"I know not. She is very powerful." Emrey shook his head sadly.

Viara hid her face. "How terrible! Where could they have gone?"

"Let's find out," Emrey said. Carefully scanning the ground, the elf-Prince began walking in a circle around the village, and they followed as if entranced. At last he found what he was seeking.

"Here," said he. "The grass is trampled as from many feet, the twigs of the bushes and trees bent. The trail is very fresh! Follow me."

The Prince set off into the forest, followed by the others. For some time they continued on the faint trail, which turned and twisted more than a little, then suddenly disappeared. Neither Emrey nor Viara, both skilled woodsmen, could find another trace of the Trastille elves.

"Now what?" Arim asked.

Lenny shook his head despairingly, but Cheryl clutched Morríenna and stared at Emrey. The emerald he wore around his neck, which Cheryl had not noticed before, was glowing faintly.

Ralph noticed too. "Prince Emrey!" he exclaimed, pointing. "What's that?"

Emrey looked down at his pendant and saw it shining. He smiled at the green-eyed boy. "Your emerald is wrought to give joy and courage, young friend. My stone is for protection and guidance." He tapped it thoughtfully. "Once before in my life I had occasion to use its properties. Now need has arisen again." He swiftly drew his slender saber and stood in a classic sword dueling stance, one foot behind the other, left hand extended for balance, and Cheryl started at the sudden movement. "Stand back," commanded the Elf, then murmured, "May Atheos guide me."

Closing his eyes, Emrey let an unseen power pull his sword-point. It wavered slightly, then turned slowly to the Elf's left. He turned with it, then paused. This was the true direction.

Without opening his eyes the Prince walked on, following the guiding of his stone. He did not notice the trees and brush patches the invisible guidance gently led him around. The others, following in his wake, marveled at the utter trust he placed in the unseen spirit, and the unfailing of the guidance.

On and on they walked, following Emrey, who was following his sword, which was following… something. They saw more broken twigs and even bits of cloth, but the elf-Prince did not open his eyes to follow the more conventional trail.

They traveled in this manner for close to two hours, and then Emrey halted, sweat pouring down his face. None of them had realized the intense concentration it had taken from the Prince. His bright eyes opened at long last and he sheathed his sword, as he leaned trembling against a denlon tree.

"You okay, Prince Emrey?" Arim asked anxiously.

The Prince nodded and swiped his sweaty forehead. "Our clansmen should be just beyond that rise," he said, nodding his head in the direction indicated. He smiled self-deprecatingly. "I consider myself to be fairly strong, but that trek certainly wrung it out of me! My knees are like supple branches."

Viara smiled and put a hand on his rock-hard shoulder. "Such a journey would have caused me to collapse, my Prince. You have no reason to berate yourself."

Emrey smiled gratefully and nodded, then straightened. "Let us continue," he said. "I am anxious for my people."

The six companions walked together over the rise and halted immediately in confusion and fear.

At the top of the hillock the trees stopped abruptly and gave way to rocks and barren earth in a tiny valley bordered by a steep cliff opposite the hill they stood on. In the valley many elves were huddled, exhausted by their run through the wood.

Suddenly terrible, heart-pounding terror gripped Cheryl, for there in the blue sky was a--

"Dragon!" Arim screamed. He fell to the ground and covered his head.

The Katamobe roared. It was a huge red beast with ugly, blackish-green wings. Orange flames poured from its snout as its serpentine body twisted in the air. Dark red body sharply contrasted against a cloud, it banked sharply and screamed in towards the ground, mouth open and spewing fire, every talon bared and ready.

The Trastille elves screamed and scattered haphazardly through the valley. The dragon was like a shark on a feeding frenzy, wounding and burning at pleasure, but not pausing to kill and devour. With Morríenna around her neck, Cheryl knew that the dragon was spreading this immobilizing fear, but that did not help her. A small Voice kept insisting she do something, but she and the others stood paralyzed with gut-wrenching panic.

The dragon laughed--a disgusting, gurgling sound like bubbles in a sulfurous tar pit, rising to the surface to pop wetly, giving off their fetid stench. Confident that all were too terrified to resist him, the Katamobe landed with an earth-shaking thud and stalked toward a tiny elf-child sprawled on the hot earth, too tired and frightened to move. As the reptilian beast closed in, the elf put her hands over her face and cried out in fear, the yellow flowers in her brown hair wilting in the heat of the monster's breath. Cheryl's heart went out to the little elf-girl, but her feet seemed frozen to the ground.

Then the monster stopped, for someone stood in its way. A small warrior with a small dagger clasped in his hand, his green eyes colder than a frost on the moon and shining like the sunlight off the hilt of his weapon.

The Katamobe blew its hot breath of fear over the Terran, but Ralph did not falter. The dragon was perplexed. It stomped closer and roared again, but the boy lifted his dagger in defiance, nobility gleaming in his sweaty face.

"Go away, demon!" he cried. "Or die!"

The Katamobe was too surprised to laugh. "Out of the way, little one," its deep, sibilant voice hissed like snakes and echoed off the cliffs, "or you will become my prey."

Ralph laughed scornfully. "You big chicken! Do you only dare to fight unarmed terrified children? Forget it! I will not move. Fight me, if you dare, you big sissy-face!"

The rest had only annoyed it, but that last phrase was too much for the enormous monster. It sprang at the boy with a roar of rage.

Ralph dodged the huge talons, noticing that the elf-girl had managed to get away, then ducked again from another sweep and stumbled back as the dragon loomed up on its hind legs. The boy began searching for a place to plunge his dagger, but the entire underbelly was protected by armor plates, rather like that of an armadillo but much bigger and tougher.

Ralph was scorched by another fiery roar. He ducked under the massive beast as it came down on all fours again, searching for its little adversary. The Terran managed again to stay out of the way of the gigantic, razor-sharp claws, but it was only a matter of time before he was caught. He sheathed his dagger and readied himself.

The dragon stood on its hind legs again, just as Ralph leaped for its belly. The valiant boy grabbed hold of the plates' edges and hung on tightly. The monster roared and bent its head to see what parasite had lodged itself in the armor plates and saw the boy, but its legs were too short and stumpy to reach him. Using the edges of the overlapping plates like a ladder, Ralph began crawling up the Katamobe's belly towards where he thought its heart lay.

As the dragon turned its full attention to little Ralph, Cheryl felt its spell of fear on her diminishing. She was still afraid, but no longer paralyzed. She turned to the others, who also seemed to be waking from nightmarish sleep.

"Come on!" she cried above the roaring of the Katamobe. "We must help Ralph! We've gotta fight, any way we can!" She swiftly took the locket from around her neck and opened it.

Ralph looked down from his high perch and nearly choked. For the first time it occurred to him that fighting an enraged, bloodthirsty dragon single-handedly with only a relatively microscopic dagger was really a pretty stupid thing to do. He shook this off in about half a second and Cheryl could see the tiny figure of her brother slowly creeping up the dark red belly of the Katamobe.

The boy's situation grew more dangerous as he came closer to the goal, because he was starting to come within the range of those sword-like talons. Looking around, he could see the others attacking the dragon. Viara was shooting arrows at the monster's head from one side, and on the other Lenny was magnifying the light of Morríenna and pointing it at the monster.

Ralph paused. He thought he was high enough, but he didn't know the right place to slip the blade in between those overlapping scales. Then the wandering spot of grayish-white light from Morríenna struck Ralph for an instant, and he knew suddenly that he would succeed, and also where to stick the little eagle-dagger. But before he could carry it out, the magnified point of Light hit the dragon in the eye.

It bellowed in pain and leaped skyward, powerful blackish-green wings beating the atmosphere and blowing great currents of air that chilled Ralph to the bone and almost sent him plunging to his death.

The boy held on with dogged persistence, even as the Katamobe clawed at him frantically. One talon grazed his back, knocking the breath from him, but still he clung as the monster went for a dizzying spin in the heavens and hovered far above the Bluewood. Ralph got a grand view of the lands he had traveled through, and ahead he saw the Purple Mountains and the tan desert beyond.

Heights did not bother Ralph, but he gasped as the dragon did a wild loop-de-loop, still trying to brush its assailant off its chest. The young Terran wasn't about to let go.

Apparently giving up on loop-de-loops, the dragon flew as far and fast as it could, trying to shake its persevering little foe. Through watering eyes Ralph saw the desert flash by, then barren waste and ugly gray swamp and a black city. Kakon, he thought dazedly. The Witch Ryoo. Sarah.

More land passed by, too swiftly for Ralph to take them in or realize they were the Far East spoken of in Maychorian lore. Then a long, banking turn, and he saw the entire trip in reverse.

His strength running out, Ralph dug his fingernails in and held on. He wanted to draw the dagger and finish the job he'd begun, but was afraid he would fall if he let go with one hand.

At last the dragon seemed to be tiring too, and it flapped down to earth in the same rocky valley as if it had never taken Ralph on a whirlwind tour of Madra. Ralph never believed it later, but the entire trip had lasted less than ten minutes.

The dragon had one last card to play. "Now you will die, human," it croaked in that deep, hissing voice.

It crooked its neck to send a blast of flame at its own chest, knowing its scaly armor would protect it from killing itself. It was worth the pain to get rid of the clinging little warrior.

But it was too late. Ralph saw a place where the dragon's own talons had separated the armor plates and the gargantuan heart surged close to the surface. As the first flames licked at his back, the little fighter drew his dagger and stabbed--

Hot dragon blood squirted out between his fingers and soaked him--

He pushed off, leaping away from the flailing beast, aiming at a relatively soft-looking patch of dirt--

The dragon's scream split the sky and reverberated off the cliff, ringing in the boy's ears--

A taloned limb lashed out as the dying cry echoed in the air, and a claw struck Ralph's leg in midair and sent him spinning in another direction--

Ralph landed hard, half on the patch of dirt and half on a large rock--

And nothing more.

"Ralph, Ralph, you did it, you did it!"

Groggily Ralph lifted his hands to shield his bloody face. Disoriented, he whimpered, "I'm sorry, I won't ever do it again!"

"What are you talking about?" Cheryl's beaming face came into her brother's clouded vision as she grabbed his hands and bent to kiss his cheek. "You did it, Ralph! You killed the dragon!"

Ralph started to groan, but paused. "I did? Oh, yeah, I remember now. Ouch!"

Cheryl had lifted his upper body off the ground and was hugging him close, mindless of the black dragon blood, her lips pressed against his hot forehead. "I was so worried when the dragon took off," she said. "I though I'd never see you again."

Ralph smiled and let her kiss him, not minding as much as usual. Though he was burned and bruised and ached fiercely all over, her touch was worth the pain it gave him. The boy closed his eyes and leaned on his sister.

Lenny rushed up and knelt by his siblings, Chumégal gripped in his hand. He put his free hand on Ralph's shoulder. "Are you okay?" he panted. "Where are you hurt?"

Cheryl pulled back slightly and held Ralph by the shoulders. "That's right," she said. "I saw the claw hit you. Where? And where else were you injured?"

"My leg--" Ralph said faintly. He winced as Lenny rolled up the trouser leg and probed the hurt spot gently.

"It's not broken, after all," Lenny said with relief. "Just a big bruise and a little cut."

Cheryl slung her pack off her shoulders and dug out the first aid kit, packed so long ago in Faela's cottage. She bound the gash, and Lenny and Cheryl helped their injured brother to his feet and propped him up between them.

Ralph blinked in surprise. The corpse of the Katamobe was shrinking, drying up into a black lump of dust in the sun. Emrey was digging in the little mound of dirt. He pulled out Ralph's dagger and shook it, all the little black specks flying off. The golden eagle hilt shone in the sun, the emeralds that were the eagle's eyes gleaming brilliantly.

Emrey smiled at the Bryants and strode over. Ralph let go of Lenny to accept the dagger and sheathed it, glad to have it back.

"Thank you, Lord Ralph," Emrey said, kneeling to look into the boy's face. "My people and I--we owe you our lives."

The little boy blushed. "It was nothing," he said. "I mean, you would've done the same."

The Prince nodded gravely. "Perhaps so, but you are the one who did. I am indeed grateful, and proud to know such a valiant warrior."

Ralph mumbled indistinctly.

Lenny was intrigued by the lump of dust that used to be the dragon. "What happened to the monster?" he asked.

Emrey stood. "Evil power cannot create," he explained. "It can only corrupt, destroy, or form illusions. The bodies of the Katamobi are not like our own, and they crumble into dust when the evil spirits leave them." He gently brushed some black specks out of Ralph's scorched face. "Even their blood does not remain."

The dragon blood that had covered Ralph's body was drying up and falling off. He reached up to skim some crud out of his hair and winced as his fingers grazed a large knot on the back of his head.

"I'm not feeling so good," he complained.

Cheryl smiled and squeezed him with the arm she had around his waist. "Well," she said. "I guess you can't fight a dragon alone and expect to come out feeling all hunky-dory, can you?"

Ralph shook his head, but it was starting to pound fiercely, so he leaned it on her shoulder.

An elf-lady jogged over the black, fire-scorched earth towards them. "Emrey!" she called. When she reached them, the elf-Prince seized her in his arms and kissed her. "Nola! My wife!"

"Husband!" she cried, kissing back. The Terrans watched with wide eyes as they wrapped their arms around each other and kissed long and passionately.

At last Nola pulled back gasping, face radiant. She sobered suddenly. "My dear Emrey, there are many wounded. Jilicon and Maedoc are building stretchers, but we need your guidance."

"Of course, darling." Emrey turned to the three children. "Lenny, will you come with me? We may have need of your amethysts. Lady Cheryl, would you stay here with you valiant brother? He should rest."

They agreed immediately. Cheryl sat and cradled her wounded brother in her arms while Lenny went with the elves.

Lenny's heart caught in his throat at the sight of the wounded. Almost a score of elves--men, women, and children, lay moaning on the ground, burned and bleeding. Two strong elves, Jilicon and Maedoc, were constructing gurneys of saplings and cloaks, and Viara knelt by a wounded elf-maiden, bathing her face with water. The boy's heart ached to see the pain and suffering around him, and he wanted only for these people to know the peace and healing he did.

Lenny drew out his magnifying glass by the lens. The jewels glowed violet, and the elves looked up in astonishment as their faces and bodies were bathed in the peaceful light. "By the Golden Eagle of Hosiotos," Lenny murmured, "May these people be healed."

The amethysts flared brilliantly, outshining the sun above. The groans and cries of pain halted suddenly, and when the light passed, the elves found that they weren't hurt nearly as bad as they thought, and some formerly wounded discovered they weren't injured at all. They all walked back to the village that afternoon, and Jilicon and Maedoc were delighted to find that their services weren't needed after all.

Still holding Chumégal by the lens, Lenny turned and walked back. "How is Ralph?" he asked Cheryl.

Ralph shook his head. "Not so hunky-dory," he muttered.

"He's very hot," Cheryl said worriedly. "I think that Katamobe caught him in at least one blast."

Lenny knelt down and held the glowing amethysts near his brother's hot face. Ralph sighed and closed his eyes. "That feels nice," he mumbled through cracked lips.

"In the name of the Golden Eagle," Lenny began, then paused. "Do you think it's okay to use my amethysts for Ralph?"

Cheryl shrugged. "Charity begins at home," she quoted. "If you don't serve your family but lavish all your love on strangers, you're something of a hypocrite, aren't you?"

Lenny nodded. "Then by the Golden Eagle of Hosiotos," he said firmly. "May my brother be healed."

Violet-white light lit Ralph's body and seemed to melt right into it. "Hunky-dory." Ralph sighed contentedly.

For a moment he rested in his big sister's arms, almost asleep, but then he opened his eyes and struggled to his feet. Lenny and Cheryl stood with him. Ralph's green eyes opened wide at the sight of the entire Trastille clan rushing toward him, cheering. In the lead was Arim, who had only recently gotten over the spell of fear on him.

The blond-headed boy rushed to Ralph and hugged him. "I saw it all!" he said in Ralph's ear. "You're a hero!"

Then he stepped back, and the Terran boy was suddenly vaulted onto the shoulders of Jilicon and Maedoc. The elves gather around Ralph, who was bewildered by the attention. Everyone wanted to touch the boy who had saved them. Singing victory ballads, the clan marched around the little mound of black dust, Jilicon and Maedoc leading with Ralph on their shoulders.

Getting into the spirit of the celebration, Ralph joyously drew his dagger and held it high. "For the High King!" he cried. The crowd roared their approval.

Princess Morralitha looked up from her marcellia stone, smiling radiantly. She had been giving a play-by-play account of the battle, and now it was over. The last image Golíenna had shown was Ralph on top of the crowd marching into the forest, but now the gray surface was still and showed no more.

The Allistrey elves were talking excitedly. "To think--a child against a dragon, and the child won!" "Praise to Atheos!" "Marvelous little boy, marvelous!" "And good riddance to that dragon, indeed!"

Chaeremon stood silently to one side, his gaze and his thoughts far away, with the lovely maiden who held his heart. He sighed and whispered, "Truly, Viara, you are safe in the company of such warriors, when the smallest and youngest has slain a mighty dragon. And yet I would I were there to protect you."

Morralitha raised her hand for silence. "The danger to our friends is ended," she said, and was answered with cheers. "For now!" she cried above the sound. Silence met that remark. "Truly they are strong and valiant, but we know the danger will only increase. Let us lift them up in prayer tonight, and thank Atheos for the victory He has given us." Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd in the great hall, then the elves began going by twos and threes down the Abamos pai Raio to reach their homes.

At last Chaeremon and Morralitha were alone in the room. The Princess strode to an east window and gazed outward. Because the great hall extended above the forest, she could see clearly the Purple Mountains, a mere two and a half day's journey from the lands of the Allistrey. She fancied she caught a glimpse of the barren little valley up against the cliffs of Mount Shimron Meron.

"Eagle-swiftness be lent to your feet," she murmured to the Terran children and their companions. "Go with Atheos, and know that in my heart I travel with you."

Chaeremon listened and seconded all she said with a hearty "Amen!"

The blue and white songbird fluttered gaily around the throne room in Maychoria Castle, his gold trimming flashing in the sun. Faela stood listening to his chittering, and she smiled, her soft wrinkles smoothed.

"So," she said softly, kissing Jovial on the head as he perched on her finger. "Little Ralph has slain a dragon, has he? Well, more power to him, and may El Shaddai guide the steps of their company."

The bird twittered and flew out the window. Faela sighed and watched Jovial go. "I pray daily for you, Cheryl. Please come back to me in one piece."

Lenny and Ralph slept deeply and peacefully through the night, firmly on the ground; Cheryl could not. She constantly shifted uneasily on her pallet and tried to think of something besides the glowering menace of the Witch. It occurred to her that being totally in the know of everything that was going to happen wasn't always a good thing. Sometimes it wouldn't let you sleep.

Cheryl clutched at Morríenna, but it did not comfort her. She couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. What was Ryoo planning?

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A scene cut from this chapter for length constraints.