kingdom folk? We are the ones who gave Ironspike its power, Revan. And don’t forget that Hyden Skyler is not a kingdom man. Vaegon Willowbrow was serving a life debt to a man of the giants’ realm, not the kingdoms’. This is about my daughter, the princess, and the future of our race. She is your princess, too. This isn’t about your personal feelings toward the humans. How would battle help bring Telgra back from the land of the giants? That is where she has traveled.”
She was growing angrier with every word she spoke. Her mate had died in the demon attack on the island. The loss, and the stress of worrying about her daughter, was pushing her to the edge.
“My daughter is seeking the Leif Repline to restore her memory. Who can fault her for that? She… she… she… doesn’t even remember who she is. She… she…” With that, the Queen Mother rose and stormed off, brushing away the supporting hands of her sentinels.
“The Queen Mother will retire to the Arborhaven,” the announcer spoke over the murmurs. “When she has reached a decision on the matter, we will reconvene.”
A moment later, as the gathered elves were dispersing back into the forest, a statement was overheard by some. It came from the Hardwoods gathered at the clearing’s edge.
“This wouldn’t be happening if a Hardwood sat on the throne.”
Several gasps followed, and more than one grunt of agreement.
“Ouch!” Dostin yelped as Hyden used tiny rays of magical energy to trim away the dead flesh from around the monk’s earholes. “That hurts, Hyden Hawk,” he whined. The sadness he felt at not being recognized by Lady Telgra was palpable. Corva was speechless. Even knowing she had lost her memory didn’t prepare him for the total lack of recognition. The words of Lady Trella hadn’t fully described the situation. Corva figured that Telgra might not have remembered the storm, or the horrible death of her father. He never expected her to draw a blank for her entire life.
Telgra sat at the fire not far from Dostin, studying him curiously. He had asked her a hundred questions about the time they shared at the fiery tree grove. The only thing she remembered was the dream she’d had about the red priest, the demons, and Phen.
Dostin wanted desperately to rekindle their friendship. It was clear that he was disturbed. She answered him politely and understood completely how she could have liked him so much. He was simple, but thoroughly sincere.
“How did you find the statue man?” Dostin asked.
“He’s called Marble Boy,” Hyden said with a chuckle.
“His name is Phen,” Telgra corrected both of them. Spike let out a little growl from her lap.
“He and Master Oarly found me in the marshes.” Telgra shifted herself as she answered him.
“The dwarf smells like Father Shaw’s goats,” Dostin observed, causing a laugh from all who heard.
Telgra had gone over the story half a dozen times, trying to ease the frightened monk’s confusion. Knowing that he had nearly frozen to death, lost an ear and parts of his fingers because he was concerned for her, was unnerving. She was endeared to him, though, and she handled his questions with an enormous amount of patience.
It was getting late in the afternoon and the others were chopping and wrapping the meat from a big cow elk that the wolves had killed. They had returned earlier, all wiggling and excited, with bloody muscles and a few limps amongst them. Borg had taken Jicks, Krey, and three horses over the ridge to haul it back. Those who weren’t involved in the bloody work — Phen, Oarly and Corva — were on the far side of the fire discussing the storm that had washed them into the marsh.
“What I wouldn’t give for the warmth of that swamp,” Oarly said. He was too drunk to stutter or shiver, and was speaking quite loudly.
Phen patted him on the shoulder. He urged Talon, who was the exact same marbly shade of white, from his shoulder to his wrist. He went over to watch Hyden work on Dostin’s ear. Borg had promised a warm and dry place to study in Afdeon, but the giant hinted that they wouldn’t want to sit around reading books after they got a few days’ rest. The giant wouldn’t elaborate, even when Phen questioned him about it. Borg had far less patience for being questioned than Princess Telgra did.
“Where is it we are going after we leave the Leif Repline, and what’s this place Borg calls the Wedjak?” Phen asked Hyden as he took a seat next to Telgra.
“I’m not sure what it is,” Hyden answered as he worked intently on Dostin’s mangled ear. “But…” He held his tongue out the side of his mouth and did something that made Dostin wiggle and whine. “…it’s called the Tokamak-Verge. The Wedjak is the old word for ‘wild place’.” Hyden scratched his head and looked at Phen for a moment. “My father, in his youthful roamings, once traded with a group of men from the Wedjak. He said they were brown-skinned with strange hair colored blue, red, and green. They were savage, yet willing to negotiate for furs and meat. They all agreed to gather again the next year in the same place, but the strange people never returned.”
“What did they have to trade for your furs and meat?” Telgra asked.
“Wardstone,” Hyden answered.
“Maybe Xwarda isn’t the only place where there is Wardstone,” Phen stated. “What does this Tokamak-Verge do?”
“You’re done, Dostin,” Hyden said with a wrinkle-faced look at his work. It wasn’t pretty, but the rot was cut away, and there was still a little shape left to the mangled nub of ear that remained.
“It looks like a half-dried leaf is stuck to his head,” Phen said.
“It does not,” Telgra said with a sharp look. She then urged Dostin to sit on the other side of her. “It looks just fine, Dostin. Don’t listen to him.”
“You’ll see it when we get to Afdeon,” Phen said. “They’ll have a reflecting glass, or at least a still bowl of water to see it in.”
Dostin didn’t seem to care how it looked. He appeared completely content to be warm and sitting close to his friend, Telgra.
Hyden was glad that he didn’t have to answer Phen’s question about the Tokamak-Verge. In the old language, the words meant power-boundary. According to the goddess, who as of late had become Hyden’s confidant, the legendary artifact could channel a magical power source to create a binding or boundary. All Hyden knew was that, with enough power input, the seal of the barrier between the world of men and the world of demons could be made unbreachable. Some of the boundaries that separated the high heavens from the planes of demigods, and even some of the planes of hell, had supposedly been separated by the thing. Whether it was a sword like Ironspike, or a jewel like the dragon tear, Hyden had no clue. He only knew that he could now sense its presence far to the north of them. With it, he hoped to use Ironspike’s power to seal away the thing his brother had become for good. It was the only way, the goddess had explained. It was the only chance he had to protect human kind without having to kill Gerard.
After destroying the old Abbadon, Gerard had assumed the powers of darkness. Hyden had no choice but to either kill his brother, or make certain he was imprisoned in the Nethers for good. Since he’d put Illdach’s ring on his finger, the power of light had filled him. He was certain that if the balance of dark and light was tipped one way or the other, the forces would right themselves, trying to find the center quickly and harshly. Hyden figured that he and Gerard could coexist in their separate worlds, or that they would eventually be forced to kill each other. He figured that if he killed Gerard, his own demise would swiftly follow. The sole and true purpose of this expedition beyond the Leif Repline was rooted in finding a way for him and the warlord his brother had become to live on, instead of tearing apart the very fabric of existence trying to kill each other.
He knew it was selfish to try to keep himself and the Warlord of Hell alive. Keeping the balance, though, was a must.
The goddess, a wise and knowing being of the greater heavens, had been encouraging his current course of action, so he felt for now that he was doing what was right.
At least Phen, Talon, and Princess Telgra would be healed on this journey. That alone made the risks worth taking.
The next morning, Borg led them through a light flurry of fat snowflakes on a course that wound around Loudin’s valley. Two of the great wolves had sped off to inform King Aldar of their approach. The trails Borg followed were easily traveled by a giant, but many obstacles forced the humans, and mainly Oarly, to have to climb
