The Unwilling Aviator (Book 4) (2 page)

Ruth frowned. "Do you not need more rest?" she asked him.

He waved off her concern with his hand. "Old men like me need less sleep than the young, and the night is nearly half over already." Ruth smiled, folded her wings over herself like a cloak, and sat down beside him. She looked over the old gentleman at her side, who didn't fail to notice her perusal. "Is there something in my beard?" he wondered.

Ruth laughed and shook her head. "No, but my father told me much about you before we left Tramadore."

"I will deny the trouble and gladly accept the praise," Ned replied.

Ruth covered her smile with her hand. "He did say you were a great deal of trouble when you were younger," she told him.

"And I have yet to learn to stay out of it," he added with a wink.

"He also told me you had improved greatly in your castoring abilities. He doesn't remember you being so strong. Did you practice a great deal to achieve such power?" she asked him. Ruth expected Ned to embrace the compliment with his usual immodesty, but his face fell. He closed his eyes and his hands on his staff tightened their grip. She set her hand on his shoulder and leaned forward to catch a better glimpse of his face. "Are you all right? Did I say something wrong?" she asked him.

Ned coughed and turned to her with his customary teasing smile. "I don't believe you could ever say anything wrong. Your heart is too pure," he commented.

Ruth blushed and lay her hands in her lap. "I'm sure I've said a great many foolish things. I am very ignorant of the world."

"Ignorance is easily remedied if the mind is willing," he countered. A small breeze fluttered by and washed over them. Ruth lifted her nose when she detected a sweet smell in its contents. Something small and soft hit her in the face and she snatched it off her nose. "What have you there?" Ned wondered.

Ruth opened her palm and showed both of them a small, blue petal so thin it was partially transparent. She pinched it between two fingers and held it up to the starlight. The light glistened through the thin, shining object. "It is a petal. Do you know where is it from?" she asked Ned.

Ned smiled. "To the north. There is an ancient grove of trees that was said to be blessed by a castor of pure heart and infinite wisdom. When he died his spirit entered the trees and endowed them with a beauty of color that is unmatched in the world."

"Did you know this castor?" she wondered.

Ned chuckled. "I hope you don't think I'm as old as that. The castor, Alan Pryor, died several centuries ago."

Ruth slipped the petal onto her palm and brushed her fingers against the edges. They were as soft as silk. She looked to Ned. "May we see this grove?"

He sighed and shook his head. "I, too, would like another sight of it, but the grove lies a day's ride out of our path."

Ruth's face drooped. "Oh," she whispered.

"But I may be able to help you preserve your memento," Ned suggested. He rummaged in his great cloak for a few minutes until his face brightened. "Ah-ha! Here it is." He pulled out a small, rectangular box six inches long and four inches wide with a depth of four inches. Its walls and bottom were carved from a tree of pale bark, but the inlay of the lid was clear glass. The interior was made of a soft velvet material that was stretched over the wooden bottom. There was a small clasp on the front to keep the lid closed. He offered it to her, and Ruth took it. "Place anything inside that box and it will stay fresh forever."

Ruth's eyes widened. "Truly?" she asked him.

He chuckled. "Truly."

Her face brightened with a smile, and she quickly opened the lid and slipped the petal inside. The moment the lid was clasped a strange mist arose from the velvet and covered the petal. In a second the mist retreated back into the velvet covering, and the petal remained in the center. Ruth tilted her head to one side and looked to Ned. "Did it work?" she asked him.

"Turn it upside down and find out," he instructed her.

Ruth turned the box upside down and was amazed when the petal remained stuck to the velvet bottom. She righted the box and peered into the glass. The petal had remained exactly where she set it. Not even a vein was ruffled. Ned smiled at her curious expression until she startled him with a wild shake of the box. She stopped and glanced at the box. The petal was the same as before. Unmoved and unchanged.

"Is it stuck to the material?" she asked him.

He smiled and shook his head. "No, the petal is frozen in time. So long as it remains in the box it will never age, nor wither, nor die."

Ruth's mouth fell open and her voice was hushed. "How is that possible?" she wondered.

"With magic and a little imagination, anything is possible," he replied.

She held up the box and admired the craftsmanship. "But cannot this help the world?" she suggested. "Can we not save people by-"

"Don't suggest that," Ned warned her. Ruth flinched and hurriedly set the box in her lap. Ned sighed and put his hand on the lid of the box. "Nothing was meant to last forever. Even the wood of this box will one day rot and fall away, and the magic will fade with it. That is how everything is, and how it must be. To ask for immortality obtained with magic is asking for a life worse than death."

Ruth hung her head. "I am sorry."

He sighed and slid his hand off the box. "You have nothing to apologize for. I had the same thoughts when I first stumbled on this box."

"Where did you find it?" she asked him.

"In a treasury of forgotten magic left behind by the ancient castors. I was-I was looking for answers to death." Ruth heard a tremor in his voice and glanced up. She found Ned looking up at the clear night sky, and the light above them traced the outlines of his weary face. She wondered what sorrowful memory made this man of energy so old. He sighed and rapped his knuckle on the box lid. "But this was all I found. It has its uses, and I trust you will make good use of it."

Ruth furrowed her brow. "Then you are letting me keep it?" she wondered.

Ned smiled and looked over her surprised face with a kind expression. "I wouldn't trust anyone else with the great power inside that box. I trust that if you do use it, it will be for a good cause."

Ruth smiled and cradled the box in her arms. "Thank you. I promise I will not betray your faith in me."

Ned chuckled. "I believe you are the last person to betray us." He paused and looked over the large box. "However, you may have trouble hiding such a large present. I might have a remedy for that." He rummaged around in his cloak again and brought out a drawstring bag four inches deep with a three-inch mouth. Ned opened the mouth and held it toward her. "This will prove to be a better carrying case."

"But it will not fit in there," Ruth argued.

Ned feigned insult. "Have you not as much faith in me as I have in you?" he teased.

Ruth pursed her lips, but lifted the box so its side brushed against the mouth. Her eyes widened as she watched the box compact itself and slip a few inches into the bag. She was so startled she dropped the rest of the box and it completely disappeared into the container. Ned tightened the drawstrings and held the bag out to her. It had a bulge at the bottom, but was hardly larger than before the box had gone inside.

"More magic?" she wondered.

"More magic," he replied. She opened her hands and he set the bag into her palms. "The bag is much like the cloaks Fred and I wear, but with less space. You can see that the bag is already half-full with that box." He tapped the side of the bag and it made a sound as though he knocked wood.

"This is-this is wonderful!" she complimented.

Ned chuckled and stood. "Magic is a wonder if you have the right castor," he corrected her.

Ruth glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping forms around the dead fire. One lad in particular had her attention. "Will Fred be such a castor as you?" Ruth asked him.

Ned followed her gaze, and a soft smile slipped onto his lips. "Only time will tell," he replied.

"Speaking of time, would ya two be a little quieter? Some of us are trying to sleep," a grumpy old dwarf called from his blanket.

Ned chuckled and stood. "And that is my cue to return to my bed. Goodnight, Ruth."

Ruth bowed her head. "Goodnight, Ned."

CHAPTER 3

The next morning the companions packed their supplies and set off on their journey to Kite. The road was empty and at sunset they reached the region border to find an abandoned camp. There were broken tents, dishes, and a makeshift wall of stone along either side of the road. Pat gagged at the remains of dwarven food, and Percy smiled. "This must be the remains of the encampment ordered by King Piako to protect the border and the stone," he commented.

"Another idiotic move by a scared idiot," Canto quipped. "Ah have to admit Ah won't be missing much of the dwarves."

"That goes for two of us," Pat mumbled.

"Well, let's be moving on. The blasted guards didn't go far enough with their outhouse," the old dwarf commented.

"Not for too far. Our horses need rest," Percy reminded them.

"Then we'll get out of smelling distance and rest there," Ned suggested.

The party rode past the encampment and into the Kite region. They stopped a few miles upwind of the dwarf encampment. This camp was closer to the road and farther from the edge of the thick woods. The companions ate and settled down for a much-needed rest. Most of them were quick to sleep. Canto snored and Percy whistled through his nose. Sins' eyes were wide open beneath the brim of his hat, and Ned slept with his back turned to the group. Ruth stood on the outskirts of the camp in her gargoyle form.

Fred lay on his bedroll listening to the sounds of the Percy and Canto orchestra and staring up at the ceiling. He was exhausted like the others, but he wasn't sleepy. Fred tried every position he knew to get to sleep. On his sides, back, stomach, with his feet on his pillow, counting cantankus. Nothing worked.

"Will you please stop moving about?" Pat hissed at him. She lay close beside the insomniac.

Fred sat up and ran his hand through his messy hair. "I think I'll go get some fresh air."

"We're out in the fresh air," she reminded him.

"Then maybe I'll go get some bad air. Besides, I need to go relieve myself," he told her. Fred stood, walked quietly around the edge of the encampment, and into the woods. He pushed through the thick brush and low-lying branches, and in a few minutes found himself walking into a clearing that ran alongside a small spring. The tree branches hung low over the flowing water and rocks sat at the bank gathering moss. The water gurgled pleasantly, but Fred still didn't find peace in the sound. He knelt down by the bank and dipped his hands into the cool stream. The water flowed over his fingers and he gazed at his reflection. His weary eyes stared back at him, but there was something more in the water.

He squinted and noticed another reflection. It was the full body of a tall, beautiful woman robed in white who stood across the stream. She had a sumptuous figure that he found familiar. It was Lady Mariana Martley of Galaron. Her playful eyes and smiling lips looked back at him, and he could almost hear a faint echo of a giggle. Fred whipped his head up, but there was nothing there but the empty woods and a cool breeze. He looked back down at the water. The reflection was gone. He must have been imagining things.

"This is an awful distance to relieve one's self," a voice commented.

Fred jumped up and spun around to find Ned standing behind him. The young man clutched at his chest and glared at his master. "What are you doing out here?" he asked Ned.

"Assisting Ruth in her nightly patrol," he replied. Ned walk up to Fred and stood beside him. "But what are you doing out here, my dear apprentice?"

Fred shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

There was a pause, and when Ned spoke his voice sounded strained. "Really? Then perhaps we can make use of your insomnia."

Fred turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "How?" was his flat reply.

Ned smiled and his eyes twinkled. "With some castor practice, of course. Do you still have that pamphlet I gave you?"

"Yes, but I haven't gotten very far in it," Fred answered as he pulled it from his coat.

"Let me see." Ned took the pamphlet and flipped through the pages until he reached Fred's last lesson at page six. "It seems you weren't jesting when you said you hadn't gone very far," he commented. Fred shrugged. The book hadn't been that much help to him. "Perhaps I should add some points for your recent achievements." He tapped the tip of his staff against the pamphlet and held it out to Fred.

Fred took the book and opened it. The pages were filled with silhouetted figures in the basic positions and spells. There was the levitation ability, the earthquake trick, and even creating fire. Fred flipped through the pages to the very end and looked at the final lesson. It was a two-page spread where a silhouetted figure stood with one arm held straight out. The staff for the figure was on the other page and flew toward the person's open hand.

Fred lowered the book and looked to Ned. "What's this mean?" he asked the old castor.