power is failing, I do not wish to see Zagraba destroyed. You must leave the forest, and go as quickly as possible.”
“Believe me, my lady,” Kli-Kli replied meekly. “That is what we wish. We have not the slightest desire to harm the forest.”
“As is clear from the fact that you were about to work a battle spell capable of reducing a grove of golden- leafs to splinters,” said Babbling Brook, shaking her head, but, fortunately for Kli-Kli, none of our group paid any attention to the Mistress’s words. “I see your comrade is injured.”
“Orcs.”
“Orcs.” She shook her head sadly. “A flinny told me what was happening, but I was not able to come any sooner. Sunpatch will attend to your friend.”
One of her three companions went to the injured man and leaned down over him.
I thought about the flinny. The little lad had promised to warn those who should be warned, but how could I have guessed that he meant the dryads?
The drums kept rumbling.
“The orcs are proud and stubborn,” Babbling Brook sighed. “The Horn has blinded them. They refused to listen to me and leave the artifact to its fate.”
“The orcs dared to disobey?” Kli-Kli whispered in horror. “But—”
“And they are coming here to take what you have in your possession,” the Mistress declared in a severe tone.
“But surely madam will not allow the Firstborn to take possession of the Horn?” Kli-Kli squealed plaintively.
“I will not allow it, although I would have preferred if it had never left the dark depths of the Cradle of the Dead. The Firstborn have made their choice, and I have made mine. The forest stands above all other things, and I shall help you leave Zagraba.”
“Please pardon me for interrupting. I mean no harm by it, I’m only a simple man,” Lamplighter said slowly. “But how can four little girls stop the Firstborn?”
Kli-Kli hissed at this sacrilege, but the dryad only smiled sadly. “Where steel cannot help, the forest will, man.”
There was a deafening smashing and cracking sound from behind the trees, and Eel snatched his two blades out again.
“Put away your weapons!” one of the dryads told the Garrakian in a cold voice.
Eel cast a questioning glance at the elf. Egrassa nodded gently, keeping his eyes fixed on the trees. Something big was crashing its way through the forest toward us. Babbling Brook’s lips were set in a mysterious smile. The bushes at the edge of the clearing swayed and collapsed with a crack. Immense shadows loomed up out of the mist.
“Sagra, save us!” Eel gasped. “They’re…”
“They are Thunder, Whirlwind, Hail, Hurricane, Blizzard, and Boomer,” said Babbling Brook, and I thought I heard a note of pride in her voice. “They have agreed to help me.”
I hadn’t noticed when Kli-Kli took hold of my hand. She seemed to be every bit as frightened as I was. And there was certainly something to be frightened of!
When our group first entered Zagraba, we came across a wild boar. He was a large, mature tusker, and I thought he was the king of boars, that no beast could possibly be any larger.
But I was clearly mistaken. And very badly mistaken. There was absolutely no comparison between that boar and the six standing there in front of us. They were gods of the forest. Boar kings. Each of them stood four and a half yards tall, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine how much they weighed. They were monstrously huge, so huge that next to them, we were no more than pitiful bugs. Long knobbly snouts, immense dark yellow tusks that could have ripped a mammoth’s stomach open with a single thrust, reddish gleaming fur, cunning little black eyes. I’m sure I’ll remember the magnificence of those beautiful animals until the day I die. They surrounded us in a semicircle and waited for the Mistress of the Dryads to utter her command.
“We do not command, man,” said Babbling Brook, looking into my eyes. “We cannot command the forest. We can only ask for its help. Lead on your warriors, Boomer!”
One of the boars opened its terrible jaws, roared so loudly that I was almost deafened, and went dashing toward the sound of the orcs’ drums. The other five boars followed their leader, screeching belligerently. The six forest gods ran to the trees, smashed their way into the dense undergrowth, and disappeared.
“Boomer and his warriors will stop the Firstborn. It is not likely that any will escape their fangs and hooves, so now you have several days.”
“My thanks, Mistress,” said Egrassa, pressing his hand to his heart. “My house is irredeemably in your debt.”
“I shall remember your words, elf, and I shall ask you to return the favor when the time comes,” the dryad said with a serious nod.
“Madam, if the orcs find the bodies of their comrades, they will realize what has happened and pursue us once again.”
“They will not find the bodies,” said Sunpatch, walking away from Hallas. “Boomer’s warriors always eat their enemies.”
The thought of those giants devouring the bodies of the orcs sent cold shivers running down my spine. Just at that moment the orcs’ drums fell silent and a second later the plaintive song of a horn rang out. But the sound broke off when it had barely begun, and silence returned to the forest.
“That is done, now it is time for you to leave,” the little girl said to the elf. “Sunpatch?”
“A serious wound, Mistress. I have done everything that I could.”
“Will he live?” Lamplighter blurted out.
“Yes. He has a fever now, but in two days he will be able to stand. Unfortunately I was not able to save his eye.”
“The forest is not all-powerful,” sighed Babbling Brook. “But the important thing is that your friend will live.”
The forest is not all-powerful? Somehow I doubted that very much. At least, the most skillful of healers could not have done what the dryad had done. Not every member of the Order could have healed a wound like that and plucked the gnome out of the tenacious embrace of that beauty, Death. But this dryad, who looked so much like a twelve-year-old girl, had done it.
“Harold, take Mumr and fetch the stretcher,” Egrassa said in a quiet voice.
“No need,” Babbling Brook interrupted. “I do not intend to tolerate the Horn in my forest any longer than is absolutely necessary. On foot it will take you too long to find your way out. That does not suit the forest. If the power abandons the Horn close to the Cradle of the Dead, something terrible will happen. The farther you are from the place called Hrad Spein, the better for the forest. And I shall not be obliged to meddle even more in the affairs of men, elves, and orcs.”
“Are you going to give us horses?” I asked in surprise.
“No. They would not move through the forest very quickly. I have something else for you. Fluffy Cloud?”
The dryad standing beside Sunpatch nodded and gave a loud whistle. Four elk walked out into the clearing.
“Thank you for answering my request, Runner in the Moonlight,” Babbling Brook said with a smile. “These strangers must be taken to the lands of men as quickly as possible.”
The brown eyes of one of the elk looked us over. Then the beautiful animal lowered its horned head and snorted in agreement.
“Thank you, friend. There is no time to be lost, Egrassa of the House of the Black Moon. It is time for you and your men to set out.”
“How shall we sit on them and guide them?”
“There is no need for you to guide them. Fluffy Cloud and Sunpatch will go with you.”
Mumr peered once again at the motionless elk in front of him and gulped, but he didn’t say anything.
We mounted the elk in total silence. The first to leap up onto the back of the nearest beast was Eel. He held
