I sighed. “Fine. Maybe we don’t need him, but he has no one else.”
“So, we’re helping him?”
“Yes, we’re helping him.”
He sighed, glancing at the sun as it dipped westward, toward the desert. “Very well. We’ll bring him with us. But if he crosses us, don’t blame me.”
“I won’t.”
We walked to the grove where Drekken and the wolf waited. The elf sat beneath a tree, his lute held carefully on his lap as he plucked the strings. The metallic sound clanged yet seemed to calm me with its strange sound.
“Have you made a decision?” he asked, looking up at us, continuing to play. The lute’s sound made me pause, and I forgot why I’d come to the grove. Couldn’t I just sit down and rest for a moment?
“Yes, we’ve made a decision.” For the life of me, I couldn’t remember what it was. The music lulled me, its harsh beats seeming to put me in a trance.
“Will you stop?” Raj asked, pressing his hands to his ears. “That music is making it hard to concentrate.”
“Ah.” Drekken lifted his fingers off the strings. “Yes, sorry. Sometimes I forget what an effect my music has on people.”
I straightened, the quiet air seeming to bring me back to my senses. “We’ve made a decision,” I repeated. “We’ve agreed that you can come with us.”
“I can?”
“Yes, if you’ll stay true to your promise and help us defeat any creatures we encounter. Also, you should know that we’re traveling to the Ice Mountains in the northern lands, to a castle where my aunts dwell. They’re dangerous, and they have magic that could kill you instantly. Plus, we’ll have to travel through the Outerlands to get there. If you decide you no longer want to join us, I’ll understand.”
Drekken stood, fidgeting with his skull-shaped pendant. “No need to worry. I’m a dark elf, after all. I hail from one of the most feared places in the realm. I’m not afraid of Ice Mountains.”
“But what about the Outerlands?” Raj asked.
“No need to worry about those either. I fear nothing as long as I’ve got my lute and my flask.”
Oh, for goodness’ sake. Why were we bringing him with us again? A drunken elf and a shapeshifting, sour dwarf hardly made useful traveling companions. Who would we pick up next? No, I didn’t want to know the answer.
“Your ale will do nothing to help where we’re going,” Raj said. “And you should know that if you slow us down or cross us in any way, you’ll pay the price. I’ve no idea why you’re choosing to come with us. Anyone with half a head of sense would be wise to fear the desert. Unfortunately, that’s where we travel next.”
9
Evening approached as we traveled west toward the Outerlands. After passing through a small village, we’d managed to barter a horse from a farmer. Drekken rode a gray nag whose ribs protruded, and had a swayed back. If we were attacked, I doubted the horse could keep pace. Still, he had a horse, which was more than he’d had before, although I wasn’t sure if he deserved it. Something about the man made me uneasy, yet I pitied him at the same time. Either I was making a new friend, or I was trusting a complete cheat. I would most likely find out soon enough.
After leaving the village, the landscape changed. Grass grew in clumps amongst the rocks. The trees disappeared, replaced with sage brush. Color drained from the world. Greens and reds and yellow were replaced with the faded hue of the sand. Even the plants took on the same color, as if the sand had drained all the brightness away.
“We’ll not make it to the border before nightfall,” Raj said. “We’ll have to make camp.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Maybe we’ll find a cave.”
“Or an inn,” I said with a sigh, “with a hot meal and a bath drawn.”
Raj laughed. “There’ll be no chance of that the closer we get to the Outerlands.”
“One can wish.”
“I suppose so.”
Our horses’ hooves echoed through the expanse as the sun approached the horizon, leaving only a few rays to light the world. The wolf plodded alongside us, not making a sound, moving forward as if in a trance. He hadn’t taken his dwarf form since we’d met Drekken, and I wondered how the elf would react to having a shapeshifter as a traveling companion. Maybe we should have warned him of it, but I doubted he would have changed his mind.
As we rode, the wind blew stronger, its howling drowning out all other sounds. On the horizon, a dilapidated hovel and a stable appeared. Rotting wooden timbers and crumbling stones formed the outer walls, and the thatched roofs had collapsed in places. We stopped our horses and scanned the area. There were no animals about, and all that remained of the fences were a few posts peeking from the sand.
“It looks abandoned,” I said.
“I agree,” Raj said. “I doubt anyone’s lived here in years.”
“Do you think we should stay?”
“Yes. We’ll not find anywhere else this far out.”
“What if it’s unsafe?” I asked over the wind.
“If it is, we’ll find out.”
I wasn’t thrilled by his answer, but anything was better than staying outside in the sandstorm, so I dismounted.
The soreness in my legs was still present, but it seemed my muscles were growing accustomed to riding. I walked with the others toward what had once been the stable but was now a ramshackle structure with a half-collapsed roof.
Inside, stalls lined either side of the walkthrough, and we stabled our horses in them. We’d purchased a few scoops of grain from the previous village, and though it wasn’t much, especially for three horses who’d been traveling so much, it made me feel better that we had at least a little to give them.
After leaving the horses, we made our way to the house. The air had grown cold. My skin shivered with goose bumps, and the biting wind only made the chill worse.
When we
