Ember (8 page)

The large cafeteria was bustling with
activity. The tables were dotted here and there with groups of
boys. The middles of which held trays of pastries, fruit, and meat.
I saw the coffeepot on top of the bar lined with people, no shot at
a drink there.

I began to scan the crowd for a familiar
face, when suddenly a tray was dropped into my hands. I looked up
to see it had been given to me by a woman.

“Hi,” she said in a pleasant voice. “You must
be Eve.”

She was beautiful. Curly, brunette, hair.
Red-stained, though untreated, lips. Brown eyes. She wore a
cloth-cut apron, with her hair pinned up in an elegant mess. All in
all her appearance was quite awe-striking.

“Hello?” she repeated.

I blinked my eyes back into focus. “Yes, I’m
Eve. Sorry.”

She smiled again.

“How do you know who I am?”

“ Well, my dear, it might get me in trouble .
. . but I promise to tell you more if you take this tray to the bar
for me and get yourself a nice cup of coffee.”

I nodded once and couldn't help but smile at
her warmness.

“Good! These boys should empty out of here in
no time.” She said and trotted off towards the stove.

I stood there for a few seconds, then shook
my mind clear and headed for the counter.

After finding a seat off to the side I,
waited for the room to clear. When it did I helped clean up a few
things until finally I and the cooking lady were sitting with our
muffins and coffee.

“I think you can take you hood down now,” she
said as she sipped her drink.

I did as she suggested before clearing my
throat. “Are you Sophie?”

She nodded. “I see we have some mutual
friends. One of which informed me of your position.”

I couldn't think of anything to say, so I
just smiled.

“You did a pretty good job this morning. I
wouldn't mind the help if you wanted to stop by every once in a
while.”

“I would love to,” I said excitedly, grateful
to be included, though I did still have reservations about the only
woman getting stuck with the cooking.

Her eyes sparkled. “Oh, and before you think
otherwise I should let you know I chose to cook, it's my way of
helping You see, I’m not much of a fighter and I haven't a speck of
magic in me.”

Sounds familiar.
I pictured myself in
her position and my stomach dropped.
Come on Evelyn. You’d be
lucky to stay around that long.

“So where are you headed now?” asked
Sophie.

I shrugged. “Well I'm supposed to meet Jaden
at one o'clock . . . what time is it now?”

She swiveled her eyes to the top of her head.
“I think it's just past nine.”

My muscles, which had been slowly tensing,
now relaxed.

Three hours till one
. . . not that I
was scared or anything. My eyebrows raised in question against
myself, then furrowed as I wondered if that was even possible.

“I suppose I don't have anything to do for a
while,” I said. The thought came to mind that she might have been
hinting for me to leave. “Why? Do I need to get out of here?”

She shook her head. “Oh no, my dear. I was
just wondering if you wouldn't mind doing something for me.”

Ooh, like a quest? How exciting.

I nodded.

“It's nothing too interesting,” she paused.
“There is a man that runs a small shop to the southwest of here.
Not a very long ways off. I need you to go there and pick up an
order for me.”

Sounds easy enough.
“I can do that.
What would you like me to pick up?”

“He should know what I need, just tell him
Sophie sent you.” She stood up. “And don't worry about paying him.
It’s already taken care of.”

I stood up as well. “How exactly do I get
there?”

“I'll show you to a side door; from there
you'll see a dirt path. Just follow it a ways and you should be
there in no time.” She nodded with a smile then turned toward the
kitchen.

I followed behind her.

Well it's not the grandest of quests . . .
but it beats waiting around till the doomsday meeting.

It didn't take long for Sophie to lead me
outside the large cabin towards a barely visible path. Before she
went inside, she'd warned me to be careful to stay near the road.
It sounded like something out of a scary story, only I wasn't
stupid enough to go trotting off the path like people always did in
those situations.

No. I kept to the path, humming as I walked.
Soon my mind began to wander and eventually came to rest on
Thoran.

The man had helped me,
saved
me
actually, from those evil creatures in the other dimension. As soon
as he had though, he’d seemed more upset at me then them.

I wonder what his life has been like. Leading
this group. How did he start? When did he start?

I sighed. There was so much about so many
people here I didn't know.

Give it up Evelyn. You don't have to have
everything figured out. Just . . . go with the flow.

I smiled.

Like that'll ever happen.

“What the?—”

All of a sudden I felt a prick on my wrist.
When I looked down I saw a tiny puff ball of fur with two eyes. I
tried to get a better look, but before I could it scurried up my
arm and down into my shirt.

The source of the creatures anxious behavior
was evident moments later, as a heavy broom came swinging towards
me. I jumped back and spared a glance at my attacker.

It was an old man, somewhat gangly, a crisp
silver beard falling down his face. He wore a rich blue and purple
satin robe with a pointy 'wizards' hat resting on his head.

None of this matched the half-crouched stance
and cockeyed face he now held. He raised the bulky broom in the air
once again and I put up both hands in surrender.

“Hold it,” I said. “Just, just wait a
minute.”

He froze and stared at me, wide-eyed.

I cleared my throat. “Look, I don't want any
trouble. I'm just trying to find my way to a shop around here.”

For a moment he looked surprised, but soon
returned to his condescending glare. “Doubtful.” He said plainly. I
waited for him to say more, when I was about to give up he
continued. “
Very
. . . doubtful.” He nosed his broom towards
my shirt. “Why would you be aiding and abetting such an
unscrupulous creature if you were just looking for a shop?”

I tried to interrupt, but he cut me off.

“
Clearly
. . . you are an evil
Meodonic spy come to steal my powerful magics.”

I shook my head repeatedly. “But I'm not. I'm
looking for a shopkeeper. Sophie sent me to—”

“Sophie?” He repeated incredulously.
“
Sophie
is not in the habit of sending girls to pick up
anything. It's boys, boys, boys, boys,
always
boys! You
expect me to believe she's suddenly sending shady little
girls?”

I searched my mind for an answer. “Umm . . .
yes?”

He stared on hard with a disapproving face
for a moment. Then, suddenly, it softened. “Oh. . . . Well, okay
then.”

He threw the broom off into the trees and
hobbled off into the direction he had appeared from.

I just stood there for a moment, slightly
dumbfounded, then pulled my wits together and chased after the
man.

“Excuse me,” I said, now following the man at
his heels.

“Yes?” he continued, moving quickly away from
the path.

“Right. You mentioned something about Sophie,
and I was wondering if you knew where the shop is.”

He continued to look ahead. “Of course I know
where it is. I own it after all.”

I was a little surprised by this, though, now
that I thought about it, I really shouldn't be.

After all, he is an old man . . . in the
middle of the woods. . . . How many of those could be running
around?

I suddenly realized I had stopped moving and
raced after the man once again. This time he led us over a bend
where a smoking hut came into view, followed immediately by a
potent wall of fragrance.

Standing on its own the building looked about
as sprightly and eccentric as the old man. Dangling from all walls
and ceiling were hundreds of different spices and herbs,
vegetables, fruits, a bit of everything it seemed. Pots were piled
in rows over a long line of fire. Each was producing its own
distinct color and aroma. To the left I could see the familiar path
meeting the front of the hut and to the right was a small, neatly
kept, garden. Finally, and most curious of all, a small flock of
pale blue and violet sheep grazed on the vibrant green grass next
to the garden.

I took all this in with a gulp and watched as
the man in the hat began pulling a variety of items from the walls
and throwing them exuberantly into a pile. I stopped far enough
away that I was sure nothing would be flying into my head and
waited silently.

Maybe I was too hard on the old people
back in Tiver
. . . I had always thought they were strange but
they didn't hold a candle to this guy.

Baa.

I turned around to follow the noise and
caught site of the purple sheep again. I couldn't help but
laugh.

“Oh, you think they're funny do you?”

I spun back around to the old man who had
stopped his tossing.

“You just think everything here is a big
joke?
My life's work
a laughing matter?”

Taking into the account my recent
unsuccessful replies, I was a little afraid to answer.

I shook my head. “No, not at all. I think
it's brilliant and . . . and wonderfully magical.”

Okay, Evelyn, that was just corny.

“Wonderfully magical?” he repeated then put
his fingers to his chin in consideration. Finally a wide smile
crossed his face. “Wonderfully magical . . . I like that. Tell me
your name strange and possible evil girl.”

I was kinda starting to get used to this guy.
“Eve, it's Eve.”

“Pfft,” he laughed. “Ridiculous. Your name
shall be Evangeline and I . . .” he cleared his throat. “. . . am
Adzamaruha. Meaning: lord of wisdom . . . only backwards.”

“Huh?”

He threw out a hand. “Do not interrupt!
People I like may call me Adzama. You, Evangeline, have not yet
earned this privilege.”

With that he flung one last item onto the
pile, knelt down, loaded it into a small pack, and handed it to me.
“Off with you now, Evangeline. I have a long search ahead of me and
can no longer be bothered.”

At a complete loss for words I nodded slowly,
turned around, and started down the path. After a few seconds
curiosity got the better of me. I turned around.

“What is it you have to search for, umm . . .
Adzamaruha?”

He yelled back through the trees. “A broom,
someone seems to have stolen mine . . . most likely an evil Meoden
spy.”

For a moment I thought I'd remind him that he
flung it out into the trees when we'd first met. But instead I
thought better of it, turned around, and just kept walking.

*

Clash!
Metal banged against metal as a
Meoden scout tried to block an incoming blow. He was no match for
his attacker's strength and the glowing green blade forced the
Meoden's sword down into its own throat.

“Thoran, behind you!” yelled Cornelius.

Without thinking, Thoran flipped his sword
around him, slicing through the gut of two oncoming Meoden. Huffing
loudly he looked at Cornelius. “You see why I need you with
me?”

Cornelius’s brow furrowed. “Maybe, but I
could think of a better time to argue this.”

At that he pointed to another Meoden soldier
. . . this one wasn't alone. Following behind him was a heavy,
four-legged, beast covered in the metallic skin native to the
Meoden. Chains hung upon the animal like a cloak, linked at the top
to two oversized horns. Its fiery eyes burned bright behind tufts
of steam that rose out of the creatures nostrils.

Thoran threw his weapon to Cornelius. “You
get the little one, and I'll get the big one.”

Cornelius caught the sword in one hand. “Next
time we run into a campsite while scouting, let's stick to just
that,
scouting!
” Almost robotically he held out his hand
until it glowed with yellow wisps, then shot it out to his and
Thoran's feet.

“Thank you,” sang Thoran, before charging off
toward the great beast. Cornelius was already heading in the
direction of the Meoden soldier.

The two men were quick, and their movements
were marked with an obvious agility. Cornelius reached his target
first. With a cry he parried two blows then flipped the sword hilt
around in his hand, bashing the Meoden duly on the top of its
head.

Thoran leapt unnaturally high into the air
and landed shakily on the large creature's back. Next he closed his
eyes and, within a split second, flames sprouted from his hand and
up his arm. He jabbed fiercely with his fist at the top of the
beast's head.

Cornelius, who was still parrying off the
soldier’s attacks, quickly spun the sword around again, and knocked
the Meoden unconscious.

Without exchanging words or even a look,
Cornelius sent the sword flying into the air towards Thoran. The
man caught it easily with his free hand.

By now the beast had built up speed,
seemingly headed for a wall to brush Thoran off against. The moment
Thoran caught the hilt of the sword though, he lifted his flaming
arm off the creature's head and forced the sharp tip of the blade
onto the same spot, down, and through the creature's skull.

Instantly the beast collapsed. The momentum
kept him headed straight into a collision with the stone. Thoran
jumped backwards before this, then flung his sword up and around to
rest on his soldiers.

“What was that?” started Cornelius who was
moving closer to Thoran. “You normally display a complex series of
aerial acrobatics in such a situation . . . you're just jumping
backwards
now?”