Greyfax Grimwald (17 page)

Greyfax looked away from that dark place, into the distance ahead where his mission awaited him, much more important now than giving any thought to the Dark Queen or the great wolf, for he must seek counsel in ways to combat Dorini and her creations, and find means by which the beings of these lower planes might find the Secrets that would free them of her dreadful reign.

Melodias had told him long before that at the appearance of the dwarf he was to seek Cephus Starkeeper, and others of the Circle, to complete their plans and begin the last campaign of the cycle.

It was to this purpose Greyfax journeyed now, to find the assistance of Cephus Starkeeper, along with the others of the Circle, and borrow the unquenchable Fire of Windameir.

“W
elcome, Greyfax, elder of Grimwald. How come you to venture so far from home?”

The speaker was an identical version of Greyfax, with the exception that he gave the impression of being older.

Greyfax bowed low, then embraced Cephus Starkeeper warmly.

“I come seeking aid and advice, my brother. I had hoped that this visit wouldn’t have concerned such weighty matters, but I fear it has to do with our errand upon Atlanton Earth. The Dark Queen has overstepped her realms, and now she holds half of Atlanton. She was given, as you know, the task of keeping those three worlds, of Maldan, and Origin, and Atlanton Earth, and only allowing those to come up who had succeeded in mastering the Secrets. But now she has attacked in force, and begun to use her power to keep all those on those worlds there forever. And she has set out upon the task of capturing the Arkenchest, and thus the Secrets, and thus the power to keep all those there forever ignorant of the Path that leads back Home.” Greyfax had paced to the high windows at the end of the room which looked out into the pale silver eye of the night of Windameir.

Cephus Starkeeper breathed out a long sigh, and tugged his beard slowly.

“Ah, and so it is that we have the very problem we have been warned of, and the very task before us that we suspected would come to pass.”

Greyfax nodded, his back to the older man.

He felt suddenly weary, and for a brief moment, discouraged.

Cephus went to Greyfax and put an arm about his shoulder.

“This means, then, exactly what the Book spoke of. The omen that would signal the last recall of this cycle. It’s almost upon us, then, if Dorini has begun her bid to overthrow his natural plan of things.”

“And the other omens have all come,” said Greyfax softly, “one by one. I hardly noticed at first. There was the failing of the Order of the Circle, when Eiorn refused to give the Secret he held back, and passed it on to his son Tyron instead.

“In the first War of the Dragon, it was decided that the Five Secrets should be distributed to certain elders of the Circle for safekeeping. Eiorn was assigned the task of guarding one of the Secrets, and promptly took it where he thought it would be best kept, which was to his old wood across Calix Stay.

“As time wore on, Eiorn became more and more taken with the beautiful thing he kept, and in the end, he began devising schemes that would enable him to keep it for himself, rather than return it to its rightful place.

“It was in this way that he disclaimed the decision of the Circle to return the Secrets, and said that as long as Lorini was not returned to the Fields of Light, they would never be rid of her dark sister, and as long as she remained free, he could not give over the Secret in his keeping and thereby place it in such grave danger.

“Eiorn, of course, knew that no one would suggest sending Lorini away, and therefore, in his own mind, he had created the perfect reason for keeping the Secret to himself, and at his own passing for turning it over to his son Tyron.

“That Eiorn, a highly respected and honorable member of the elders of the Circle, should fall prey to the great temptation of using the powers of the Secret speaks dearly the dangers of the forces at work in the mighty wonders of the Arkenchest.

“There is that chaos to deal with yet. Then the appearance of the dwarf from beyond Calix Stay with the Secret which I had given to his father to hold, and who had handed it down to his son. He had it with him still, unknowing. And then all the rest, and now Dorini on the march, attempting to put herself on the footing of our Lord.”

Cephus Starkeeper chuckled, his clear blue-gray eyes dancing.

“I must admit, this is exciting, Greyfax. I know it is unheard of to allow oneself to feel this way, but I almost certainly do. And I can’t say I’ll be too sorry to get Home, once this is over.” He shook his head. “How long has it been now? A second? A day? An aeon? Or simply beyond measure?”

“It has been long, my dear fellow. I feel it more where I carry on my tasks, for there is where we feel such a thing as marked time.”

“And I am sure it is growing tiresome for you?” Cephus smiled gently at his friend before going on. “I know. I spent my time upon a sphere such as that long before you attained the Circle. I know the agony it is.”

“Yet I can’t complain at all, for it is as it should be,” Greyfax hastily corrected. “It’s just that I miss talking to you, or Erophin, or any other friends of the Fellowship. It is very lonely, at times, knowing what is to be, and unable to tell anyone.”

“All, as you say, to the purpose. It is the way we progress, old fellow. And what of your aide? Faragon is one of the Fairingays, and I should think he would be most suitable for the mission.”

“Oh, the lad is more than one could ask for, but you know what it is working with these impetuous young pups. They’ve not gotten over their somewhat overpowering passions yet. And even the passions of a good nature can complicate one’s effectiveness, you know. But he’s a good lad, and we get on famously, although he does get miffed at me now and again.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I’ve always thought a lot of Faragon, and his father and brothers, too, for that matter.” Cephus paused and glanced at his friend. “Come, we must take some refreshment now. We shall have our chat, then meet with Erophin. He will be with us presently.”

“I know this is all highly unusual, but I needed to hear your thoughts and get Erophin to express his views,” said Greyfax, sitting down to a long, low table, spread with a faintly glowing silver cloth that shimmered with a fine golden mist deep within its depths.

“Not unusual at all, old fellow,” chuckled Cephus, clapping Greyfax heartily on the back, then taking his own seat. “We had been expecting you long before now.”

“You mean you’ve known of Dorini’s plan, and all the rest?”

“Oh, ages since. The Book has it all there. It was foretold. But the Circle has met since last you came to us, and all that is known to all now. So perhaps we can be of some help to you on this visit, and fill you in on the things you will need to know.”

Greyfax sat back in his chair, shaking his head slowly in amusement.

“I should have guessed this visit of mine wasn’t chance happening. Nothing ever really is. But let’s see to our supper now. I am anxious to hear the news, and to find out what suggestions I may take back with me to help me carry out my errand successfully.”

And so the two began talking low and earnestly, eating from the long table, and laughing in places, or chuckling, or frowning, or pacing up and down the long, comfortable high-raftered room.

This took place in the early afternoon of that realm, and it was a stroke past teatime before Erophin arrived.

O
tter, at the moment, was pouring out a cup of blueberry tea for Bear, bustling about his shelf trying to find honey, and exclaiming loudly, “Oh, drat and confound it, I never seem to be able to find anything at all here when I want it, or even when I don’t want it, for that matter,” He slammed another cabinet shut and scampered angrily to a small sideboard next to the fireplace, his gray muzzle whiskers twitching rapidly and his little paws darting here and about in the jumble of stuff and junk on the shelves. Bear had gotten up and was cautiously poking about, for the room was really only meant for animals or elves or dwarfs who measured no taller than three or four feet high, and although Otter considered his kitchen ceiling very high and roomy compared to some holts he had lived in, it forced Bear to walk about on all fours, and even then there would be a grunt or gruff, snort or shuffle, and he would have banged his nose or stubbed a paw. Now the great brown head was lost almost up to the ears in a cupboard, and his rumbling voice sounded far away to Otter, who had to keep saying, “Whater, whater,” anytime Bear spoke.

“I said, are you sure you had honey?”

“Oh, bumblebee hickiby, yes, I have honey. It’s around here somewhere, and now the tea is cold and nothing ever goes right in this holt. That’s the third cup of blueberry tea I’ve had cold today, and I still can’t find honey.”

And Bear, who had moved into a still lower shelf, his great, fiat brown haunches pointing almost up to the roof, wiggled his brown and white tail in sympathy, but still sorely disappointed at not having his afternoon honey without looking all over Otter’s kitchen for it, and bumping his nose or stubbing his paw every so often.

“Well, it’s good to be back anyhow. I’ve had enough of wandering around beyond our valley,” grumped Bear, raising his head in a sudden caught breath. He bumped his nose badly. “Honey,” he whispered under his breath. Down lower, until he was fiat on Otter’s earthen floor, reaching a great paw back and back to the inner depths of Otter’s not so neatly arranged staples. He trapped his paw, and backing out too rapidly, put his tail straight into the open fire.

“Eeek, dear me, ohhhh,” and moving much too quickly for Otter’s small quarters, he bumped his nose hard on a roof beam, and while grabbing for the new hurt, he tipped over the pot of water boiling on the hearth. “Aiiii,” moaned Bear, crashing headlong onward.

“Watch out, Bear,” cried Otter, too late, and sensing the end, dived headlong under the table to avoid being burned or crushed, and Bear, one paw to his nose and one to his bottom, danced on one back paw that was in the pool of hot water, and crashed and tore his way outride, knocking Otter’s small green door off one hinge in the process.

Bear fell down under a pine tree, holding his nose and rump and trying to cover his burned paw with his other, but he at last gave up with a long sigh and wail, and finally amply sat heavily in the soft blanket of snow, moaning from time to time.

Otter, peering out from under his table, rose cautiously and went slowly to his damaged door, looking at his wrecked kitchen, starting to chastise Bear for his clumsiness, but seeing his friend hurt, he darted to the big animal, angry and sorry that he had let himself get upset at the accident to his kitchen.

“Dumb honey, anyhow. If we hadn’t been looking for that, this never would have happened. Here, Bear, come on, maybe we’ll have our tea straight.”

“Grumph,” growled Bear. “Thanks, but I’ll just sit here a bit.”

“We’ll have it all put back as nicely as before, Bear, don’t worry. That door had a terrible squeak in it anyhow, and I think that top hinge was the one. I’ve been meaning to do something about it for weeks, even before we went on our little scouting party, but I just never seemed to get around to it; Otter sat down in the snow beside his friend. “It’s much nicer out here now to begin with. I don’t know why we don’t bring the table out under the trees and have our tea here, and watch the sky awhile.”

So the two friends brought out the table and tea and sat outside, watching the mountains grow dark as the sun began slowly to lower its light into night.

“My, but sunsets are very nice. I don’t see why Dwarf never enjoys things anymore. He’s so glum lately, especially after we told him we’d really found nothing at all.” Otter paused, then went on in a different tone. “I don’t remember ever being anywhere there was no sunset. Do you, Bear?”

“I can’t really say. I think maybe when I lived for a time in the far north, we had days and days of light. It was strange, but then I’ve seen stranger, and I don’t remember a lot of things that have happened to me.”