Page 85 of A Brat's Tale
“Only halfling children are being taken? What could be the reason for that?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t like to think about it. My Salamir, he’s still very young, I know he’s terribly frightened.”
“If Corrik is there, he’ll look out for him.”
“I hope so, Warlord.”
Irelay Diekin’s directions and they seem to know what it all means, leading us over dangerous terrain, through rivers, and finally to a ridge, with tall stone slats that reach high into the mountain. I get off my horse. “This is it,” I say. “This is where Corrik went.” I don’t know how I know that, but I feel like he’s nearby, my heart bubbles in my chest.
“What should we do, Warlord?” Jagarbendir says.
Jagarbendir is a few thousand years old; he has more experience than I could fathom. There’s no way I’m going to have an answer over him, he’s giving me the respect he thinks I deserve because he feels it’s my mission since I’m royalty. But it’s just as much his.
“My instincts tell me to go in carefully, but I know little of magic Jagar. I’m hoping you can offer me, counsel, here.”
He nods, and his eyes seem to belay respect. I’m sure he’s not used to having royalty ask for his opinion, even when said royalty doesn’t have half the knowledge he has. “There is magic all around this place. The area is shrouded in it. If we go in there, I’m not sure we could hide from whatever’s set the traps.”
I nod. Magic is something I’ve had little experience with. As Markaytians, we don’t deal in magic. I have a small amount in my blood, being a descendant of dragons, but it’s not even comparable to the small amount the humans of Mortouge have. I certainly don’t feel confident in deciding about it. But once again, because I am royalty means the responsibility automatically falls to me.
I recall when Father encountered new situations. I always thought he wasn’t afraid of anything, but Papa would tell me that was not the case. “He has to muster all his bravery, be extra vigilant and do it anyway, Tristan,” Papa would say.
“I say we stick close and assess as we go. Whatever took Corrik surprised him, it was more powerful. I am welcome to anything youwant to add, Jagar,” I say, knowing he won’t interject his opinion to a royal unless given permission.
He nods. “You’re different,” he says. “I like it.”
I smile. “Compliment me when I’ve gotten us safely through this, my friend.”
“Lead the way, Highness.”
Chapter 18
As much as I want to storm in, swords blazing, we can’t. If whatever’s taking halflings could take Corrik, it’s something powerful. We leave our horses and head into the clearing on foot. On the other side of the slats of the mountain is more forest, leading up the mountain. There’s a reason these are called the Unbroken Mountains, at least. Only the strong can survive ventures in this direction and people don’t generally travel this way, even Elves.
I might not have the same ability to sense magic as the Elves do, but I can feel the eerie presence of it. Whatever’s got hold of this place, it’s strong and bad. After traveling for half the day, we have to start thinking about making camp for the night, which is not good. We still have no idea who or what we’re tracking, how to track them, or if we’re just heading to our deaths. I try to remain optimistic, envisioning finding Corrik, keeping that in my mind, praying to the Gods for good fortune. “Let’s find a place to make camp, no fires tonight, we’ll take shifts on watch,” I say.
“Highness, I insist that we take all the watch shifts. You should get full rest.”
Father and Papa always took a watch shift, unless it was imperative they get full rest for good reason since a lot of the decision-making fell to them. “No. I will take the first one and then sleep the rest of the night.” I don’t trust them to wake me up. It’s hard to put the edge of Arcade Kanes into my tone, toward someone like Jagar (I’ve always been taught to give elders a particular level of respect) but I manage.
“As you wish Your Highness, but please, don’t hesitate for anything, even if you think it might be nothing,” Jagar warns.
“I won’t, promise.”
We walk for a few more hours, with no luck, no signs, nothing, and then we pack it in for the night, eating sparse amounts of the little supplies we have. Jagar and Aldagir turn in for a few hours. I take a spot up in a tree, on a nice fat branch as Deglan taught me, watching over them with my bow at the ready. My body is alive with electricity as I watch over them. I also spend a great deal of my watch asking for a sign, something to tell us where Corrik is.
I have to believe he’s out there even when things are looking grim.
Two hours pass, and it’s about the time I should wake one of them. I’m about to climb down the tree, when I hear a sound beside me. I remain still, turning my head ever so slowly toward the direction of the sound. It’s dark, but moonlight shines dimly on my tree hideaway. I don’t see anything, but I feel something climb up my arm. It’s small, but it’s got claws.
I don’t know what it is, or what it will do if I alarm it. I let the claws pinch my skin through my clothes and it continues to climb up my arm, toward my neck. When it gets there, it nips my skin. “Ow,” I complain quietly at it. By this point, I get the sense it’s not dangerous, but still, it’s probably wild and wild things don’t like sudden movements.
I have an idea of how big it is, and I think it could fit on the back of my hand, so I carefully move my hand toward it and nudge at it some. It hops and lands, cinching its claws into my knuckles. I hold the little blighter up to the largest patch of moonlight and though I’ve never seen the likes of it, I know what it is.
I recognize my kin.
“My word,” I say like Papa. “You’re just a little thing.”
The tiny dragon coos at me with a little trilling sound. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
