away with watery eyes of his own, unable to say more. He joined Abram at the trap door.
Abram regarded Tarren with a reassuring smile. “You be a good lad. We’ll be back before you know it.”
That was the same thing Abram had always told Whill before he left on one of his adventures. To hear it now made Whill even more somber. Together with Abram, he descended the steps to the tunnel. Behind them I am closed the hatch, whispering, “Farewell, and good luck.”
The tunnel was dark but for the candle that Abram held, and smelled of earth. It was cool and dank, with roots emerging from the dirt ceiling and walls. It was not more than ten feet long, with just enough space to walk in a crouch. Soon the two came to the cold room opening. The room was fairly small, with shelves spanning its entirety. Upon the shelves were various roots, herbs, liquid medicines, fruits, vegetables, and animal extracts. It was a well-stocked supply room. At the opposite end of the small room was a ladder leading to a hatch. Abram ascended the ladder a few feet and lifted the hatch just enough to peer outside.
“Good, Hagus is here. Ready, Whill?”
Whill nodded. Abram extinguished the candle and discarded it. When he lifted the hatch, Whill was blinded by the daylight. He quickly followed Abram, however, up the ladder and into the cool day. Directly in front of them was Hagus’s wagon. They scampered to the rear of it and jumped inside as Hagus urged his horses into motion.
The wagon was not covered, but Hagus had furnished a large blanket to conceal them until they were out of town. They rode quietly as the wagon made its way to the forest trail. After about fifteen minutes Whill peered out from under the blanket and saw the surrounding treetops. The sky was clear and the sun shone brightly overhead. It looked as though it would be a good day to travel.
After another half hour of riding the wagon stopped, and Hagus said, “You’re clear.” The two emerged from under the blanket and got out of the wagon. “I loaded all the things you asked for, Master Abram. Also a few treats made by m’ dear wife. If there is anything else I could do fer ya, let me know. I would be honored.”
Abram grabbed a few of the supply bags and his bow. “You have done us a great service, Hagus, and we are grateful. We need not remind you to keep silent about where we went and where we are headed.”
Hagus raised his eyebrows and shook his head vigorously. “No, no, I will not say a word, not to no one. You have my word.”
Abram eyed Hagus for a moment, more to intimidate him than out of suspicion. “Good. And thank you once again.”
Whill had finished loading his many bags and weapons. He took a place next to Abram and also thanked Hagus for his services. Together they watched as the wagon traveled out of sight back down the forest trail.
Whill surveyed the surroundings. To the south and north the forest trail could be seen winding slightly through the trees. To the east and west was only forest. The trees were in bloom now, and sprouts could be seen on almost all of them. Some early-blooming flowers also stood proudly, scattered here and there along the forest floor. Abram and Whill started out eastward through the forest toward the mountains at a hurried pace.
Whill thought of the infant and his mother. Now it all seemed like a dream. He knew Abram had much to say on the topic, but waited to be spoken to. Abram was silent, thinking deeply on something. They walked for an hour until Whill could no longer bear the silence.
“Abram, I’m sorry for the other day.”
Abram did not look at him. “Whill, I don’t think you understand what you have done.”
He let out a deep breath. “I know, I shouldn’t have healed the infant, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was like-”
“You could have died! Again! Not only that, but you have alerted an enemy to your existence and whereabouts. We will be hunted now, you can be sure of that.”
Whill took the offensive. “Hunted by whom? Men who think I’m a sorcerer? Let them come.”
Abram stopped and looked Whill in the eye. “The Draggard will be after us now, son, the Draggard, many of them. If he knows where we are, they will be sent.” He began to move again.
Whill, shocked, hurried to catch up. “The Draggard!
“He is a very powerful foe. If the elf woman warned you of him, then we are in great peril for sure. Do not ask more on the subject. We will be in the mountains soon.”
Whill was left once again to wonder. He feared the Draggard. Though he had only seen paintings of the fell beasts, he feared them like he feared no man. They were bred for one purpose: killing. Rumors had begun in Agora that the winged Draggard, named Draquon by the elves, had been seen near the Ebony Mountains. This thought unsettled him.
Abram’s voice pulled him from his violent imagination. “Other than the elf woman’s visit, what else occurred during your healing?”
Whill thought for a moment. It sounded mad, but he told Abram anyway. “I saw my mother.”
Abram turned to Whill, dumbstruck. “Your mother?”
For the next hour of their journey, Whill told Abram what had happened. When he was done, Abram went silent for a moment. “Then I suppose it was good that you healed the infant, or you never would have had the… encounter,” he said at last. “You are fortunate for such a thing.”
Whill was surprised. “You believe me?”
“Of course I do. For one, your description of your mother was perfect. For another, I believe that we move on to live other lives. It is true that your tale is a fantastic one, but fantastic things do occur. Take comfort in your mother’s words and be grateful. We shall soon see how great the price will be.”
Whill was not comforted by Abram’s statement, though he thought it wonderful that he’d had a chance to meet his mother, if only in spirit. He felt bad for bringing more peril upon Abram. He was, however, comforted by the mountains that could now be seen in the distance. The forest had become considerably less dense, and the terrain had become steeper. From his vantage point he could see the many rolling hills ahead and the mountains beyond. The sun was high, shining brightly among thick white clouds, which for now did not block its warm rays. There was little wind, but a strong scent of pine still floated in the air. The forest floor was alive with rich greens, moss, and flowers. Ferns were in abundance, as were redclove plants.
Whill and Abram walked steadily for the rest of the day, talking little, which was of no concern to either. They had traveled together for many years and were comfortable in their silence. Also, Whill could sense that Abram was wary of danger. With each step Whill was closer to the mountain that held so many answers for him. Who had his parents been, what were their names, and most importantly, why had Abram withheld such information? His excitement grew, as did the mountains before him.
With the sun getting low and only a few hours of daylight left, Abram picked up the pace. They had not taken a break since they started out, and Whill knew that he intended not to.
“At this pace, we will reach the foot of the mountains before dark,” Whill said. “Do you intend not to camp?”
Abram reached for his leather water flask and took a long drink. “If we do indeed have pursuers, I do not intend on making camp here in the forest. We would be better off on the mountains at night.” He wiped the dripping water from his mouth.
The terrain was now very steep as they climbed one of the final hills that stood between them and the mountains. Whill’s legs and shoulders ached from the exertion. He was used to carrying many packs when hiking, but they usually did not go this long without a break, or keep up this hurried pace. Before them the mountains loomed like great gods with bodies of stone and crowns of white. The peaks of some could not be seen as they pierced the clouds above. Scattered upon the mountains were pines and birches, which thinned out considerably as the mountains steepened.
Finally they reached the base of the mountains. Directly ahead of them the mountain was an impassable rock wall, rising more than one hundred feet. Abram surveyed their options and opted for a southern pass. “The passageway to the city is about two miles that way,” he said, pointing southeast. “We will barely make it before dark, lad, so keep up.”
Whill laughed. “Alright old man, but I have to warn you, I don’t tire easily.”
They ascended the mountain, taking the quickest possible routes. They grasped trees and roots when possible to aid in the climb. Even when they found a fairly flat portion of rock, the advance was slow. They had
