The Godling Chronicles: The Sword Of Truth Part 18

"You misunderstand," she replied. "Helping me was foolish. You were right to want to leave me. And know this: given the same choice today, I would leave you."

Lee chuckled.

"Something amuses you?" asked Kaylia.

"It's just that is the first thing I've heard you say that I don't believe," said Lee. "Come, let's eat."

Chapter 14.

It was well into the afternoon when Gewey and Celandine reached the foot of the Spirit Hills. Though they had stopped running, Gewey began to feel the fatigue in his legs as they walked onward.

"I don't think we're being followed," said Celandine. "All the same, we should be well into the hills before we stop."

"Where are you from?" Gewey asked, trying to make conversation.

"Baltria," she answered. "But I haven't been there since I was a child."

"Do you remember what it was like?"

"Vaguely. Mostly just flashes of memory. I do remember the smell of the salt air coming off the bay. My father would take me to see the s.h.i.+ps, and that smell always told me we were close. What about you?"

"Nowhere you would have heard of," said Gewey, not wanting to give away too much about himself.

"Don't worry," she said, sensing his trepidation. "While I'd love to know why you're deemed to be so important, I'm not going to force it out of you."

"What do you know about me?" Gewey inquired.

"I was given your description and name, and was told that if I found you, I should keep you safe until you could be delivered to the temple."

Gewey looked puzzled. "Why would your temple care about me?"

"We have spies among the Dark Knight's followers, and when we learned he was after you, we knew we had to get to you first," Celandine answered. "Other than that, I don't know much."

"What's your temple like?" Gewey asked.

"It's a place of training and wors.h.i.+p," she explained. "Only a few of us are permitted to go there, and I must admit I'm curious why a farm boy is worth this journey."

"Me too," Gewey said.

Celandine laughed. Her laugh sounded like a song to Gewey, and it made him have thoughts that caused him to blush.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Why?" Gewey replied. "How old do I look?"

"Your size says a grown man in his twenties," she remarked. "But your eyes tell a different story."

"I'm seventeen," he announced. "But I've been my own man for two years."

Celandine smiled sweetly and looked closely at him. "You are very young, but I have no doubt that you are your own man. I meant no offense."

"It's just that Lee and the others treat me like a child," he admitted.

"Back home, I have my own land and run a farm by myself. Here, I feel like I'm growing up all over again."

"But when it comes to the world, you are," Celandine replied.

"Your friends only want to protect you, as do I."

"I don't need protecting," Gewey said bitterly. "I can take care of myself."

"I could tell," she teased. "Salmitaya must have been terrified."

"I would have escaped sooner or later!" Gewey protested. "I didn't need rescuing."

"Be that as it may," she said sternly, "I did rescue you, and I would think you would show a little appreciation."

Gewey felt ashamed. "I'm sorry. I do appreciate your help, Celandine. I really do. I just get sick of feeling so b.l.o.o.d.y helpless."

"I understand," she said sympathetically. "I know what it's like to feel helpless, but trust me, once you get to the temple, you'll never have to feel that way again."

"I hope you're right," Gewey replied, earnestly.

"One more thing," said Celandine. "My friends call me Dina-or at least, they did when I had friends."

Gewey smiled. "Dina, then."

By the time the sun went down, they were well into the interior of the Spirit Hills. They built a small fire at the base of one the hills and split a loaf of flatbread Dina had brought.

After they ate, Gewey laid on the gra.s.s to rest, using his journey pack as a pillow. The stars were obscured by the constant overcast, and he felt the chill of the damp night air creep into his clothing.

Lee's words about the coming of a hard winter echoed in his head, and suddenly his mind went to thoughts of the villagers in Sharpstone. They had seen too many hard winters-too many deaths.

Somehow, he would find a way to make things right.

Dina was huddled close to the fire, already asleep. Gewey watched the firelight as it danced across her face. He wanted to go to her and feel the softness of her cheek against his hand. She stirred for a moment, and Gewey felt himself blush with embarra.s.sment. He rolled over and tried to sleep, but he couldn't take his mind off her.

Finally, he got up and walked off into the night, careful not to wake her. He closed his eyes and breathed the cold air into his lungs.

Remembering Kaylia's lessons, he focused his mind on the darkness that surrounded him. The trees in this part of the hills were thick and numerous, so Gewey decided to practice moving through the shadows.

It wasn't long before he had forgotten Dina and lost himself in his training. The darkness opened itself up to him and showed him where to hide, how to move, and where to strike.

"You move like an elf," said a voice from behind him. Gewey spun around and saw a thin, old man dressed in animal skins, holding a gnarled tree branch as a walking stick. His long gray hair was tangled and unkempt, and his wiry beard fell down his chest. Gewey, realizing he had left his sword back at the fire, took a quick step back.

"Who are you?" Gewey stammered.

"The spirits tell me that you are something special," the old man answered. "I wanted to see for myself."

"Spirits?" Gewey asked. "What spirits?"

"They tell me you need my help," he continued, as if Gewey hadn't spoken. "Yes they do. They tell me things. Things you should know. Things you shouldn't. They're very clever."

"Tell me who you are," Gewey demanded. "What do you want?"

"He asks what we want, he does. What could we want? Nothing, that's what. We have all we need. But you want something, don't you? You want something very badly. Don't worry. No, don't you worry. You'll have it. Yes indeed you will. I'll give it."

"What will you give me?" Gewey asked, confused.

"No not yet," said the old man. "Not now, but soon. Very soon."

The old man turned and walked away, disappearing behind a nearby tree. Gewey chased after him, but he was nowhere to be found. He searched for over an hour, but to no avail. It was as if the old man had vanished like a puff of smoke.

When he went back to the camp, he woke Dina and told her what had happened.

"Did he say anything else?" she asked.

"Nothing," he answered.

Dina thought for a while. "I don't know," she said finally. "The Spirit Hills are said to be an odd place, haunted even, but I've never heard anything like this."

"What should we do?" Gewey wondered.

"What can we do?" she replied. "I say we get some rest and see what happens. It doesn't sound like whoever it was is finished with you, but it I don't see how we can do anything about it."

The next day, Gewey and Dina hardly spoke a word; the Spirit Hills seemed to be living up to their name. Gewey held tight to his sword, ready to strike at every snap of a twig. Dina continually looked back and forth over her shoulder, expecting to see ghosts emerge from every shadow. As they went deeper into the hills, Gewey could feel the air get thicker. By mid-afternoon, he felt himself struggling to breathe.

"We're being watched," Dina whispered.

"From where?" Gewey asked.

"Everywhere," she replied. "I can feel their eyes on us."

Suddenly, a voice came from behind them. "Eyes, you say?" Gewey's heart nearly leapt out of his chest. It was the old man. He was sitting on the ground under a tree they had just pa.s.sed.

"Not eyes," said the old man. His voice was mirthful, and he was still wearing his animal skins. His walking stick lay across his lap. "No, not eyes. But they see you. Of course they do."

"Who sees us?" asked Gewey. "Who's out there?"

The old man laughed heartily. "A child of heaven you are," said the old man to Gewey. "You walk the Spirit Hills. They see you. They love you. They want you to stay. But you mustn't. No, no. They'll keep you for themselves. But I'll keep them away. Yes, I'll threaten to leave them, I will. Leave them alone. No more old man Felsafell to talk to."

"Is that your name?" Gewey asked. "Felsafell?"

"Yes, my name," he answered. "I'm at your service. I'll tell you what you seek to know. But first, you come. We sit and talk. So long since I've heard other voices. Welcome they are, to tired ears and blurry eyes."

Felsafell grabbed his walking stick and hopped to his feet. He walked pa.s.sed Gewey and Dina, beckoning them to follow. They looked at each other, confused.

"You mustn't fear," Felsafell a.s.sured them. "I mean no harm. The spirits will obey. They'll leave you be. Come along now, quickly. An old man must eat and rest."

Reluctantly, Gewey and Dina followed. Felsafell led them through the hills and valleys for over an hour, until Gewey knew he was hopelessly lost. Finally, as they rounded one of the larger hills, they saw Felsafell's house.

It looked as if it were built entirely of small twigs and gra.s.s. There were two windows covered by cloth curtains, but there was no gla.s.s.

Smoke rose from a chimney atop the steep thatched roof, and the air was filled with the scent of bread and meat. A small porch stretched from the front of the house, with three wicker chairs lined up beneath one of the windows.

"We're here, my friends," said Felsafell. "Come in. Take food and rest. The spirits are quiet now. They are indeed."

Felsafell opened the door and showed them in. The interior was simple, much like Gewey's own home. The walls were lined with tools and animal skins. In the fireplace was a spit where a wild pig slowly roasted. On the table were two large jugs and a loaf of fresh bread. Two beds sat in the corner of the room. A bedroll lay on the ground next to the fireplace.

"Sit and eat," Felsafell instructed. "Time for talk when our bellies are full. Sit and rest."

Gewey and Dina sat at the table while Felsafell ran to the corner and brought back three cups. He filled the cups with cider, then went to the roasting pig and began cutting off large slices and putting them on a platter.

"A simple meal of meat and bread," said Felsafell as he brought the platter to the table and sat down. "No fancy things, you know. But I have all that is needed."

"Thank you," said Gewey graciously. "Roast pig and bread is most welcome."

Felsafell smiled broadly, showing a mouthful of crooked teeth.

"Too kind," he said. "I'll try hard to speak as men do. So long with the ghosts and spirits. No voice but old Felsafell's to keep me company."

"How long have you been here?" asked Dina, tearing off a piece of bread.

"Questions later, dear friends," Felsafell replied. "Questions after food and rest. An old man can travel far, but not forever. No he can't."

After they ate, Felsafell poured a cup of cherry wine from the second jug and pa.s.sed it around. For a while he closed his eyes, humming softly and holding the cup in both hands. Gewey noticed the light through the window beginning to dim as evening drew near.

"Time for rest," said Felsafell. "You take the beds. Old Felsafell sleeps by the fire. But don't you worry. We will speak before the dawn."

Dina and Gewey lay down in the beds, which were remarkably soft and comfortable. Felsafell lay down on the bedroll in front of the fire and fell fast asleep in seconds.

"What do you think?" Gewey whispered. "Is he crazy?"

"Maybe," Dina answered. "But I don't think he's dangerous. Still, we should be wary."

Gewey nodded in agreement. He tried to stay awake, but it wasn't long before a full stomach and a soft bed got the better of him.

"Rested enough my friend," said Felsafell, shaking Gewey softly. "Time for questions. Time for answers."

Felsafell walked across the room and opened the front door. "On the porch we'll talk. All your answers are out here."

Gewey heard Felsafell walk across the porch and sit in one of the chairs. He took a deep breath and got out of bed. Dina was still sleeping soundly. He approached the open door and peered out. Felsafell was seated, smoking a pipe, and gazing into the night. "Time for answers, child of heaven."