The Corgi Chronicles Page 5

  I barked and wagged my stubby tail. She laughed, like tinkling bells. Turning to Gornak, she asked, “And who is our dwarven cousin?”

  “Gornak, ma’am,” he answered, and bowed.

  “But Darnel said you were in need of healing?”

  “Aye,” said Nelathen, pulling the red knit hat from under his cloak. He gently lifted Birgitte and approached the Princess. “She was injured in a storm and has been unconscious since.”

  The Princess gasped. “Poor thing…”

  “Can you help her?” asked Aliiana.

  The Princess held her hand above Birgitte’s body for a moment. “She has broken ribs and brain injury. We can heal those, but…” She gestured to Birgitte’s wing. Where the fragile tissue had been torn by the ice, the wing was now dry and brown, like a leaf dying in autumn. Several brittle pieces had already broken off. “We have no magic to regenerate limbs.” She looked at each of us in turn. “She will never fly again.”

  The Princess turned away again and called to one of her attendants. “Please summon Zane.” Turning back to our party, she added, “Zane is one of the strongest elven healers I have ever encountered. We will combine our healing spells.”

  A few minutes later, a young male elf entered the chamber and bowed to the Princess. She stood and placed Birgitte’s broken body on the cushion of her chair. She and Zane linked their left hands and placed their right hands on Birgitte’s body as they chanted in Elvish. It was a longer spell than most I had heard, lasting for nearly five minutes. As they chanted, wisps of white light flew into the chamber and congealed around Birgitte.

  At last, the Princess and Zane released the spell and stood back. Birgitte blinked her eyes a few times and sat up. The dry brown bits of her damaged wing had all fallen off, leaving her with just a stub, only about a third of her wing.

  Birgitte glanced around the chamber, stretched her arms and flapped her wings. She turned her head to inspect the damaged wing. “What happened?”

  We told her about the ice tornado and our travel to the Bighorn Mountains. She listened calmly to the story, and didn’t say anything about her disability. “Now you’ve lost the troll’s trail,” she said.

  “Yes,” said Aliiana. “But I think Angarath would have killed us with his booby traps if we had stayed on his trail any longer. We’ll have to come up with another way to track the Gem.”

  Birgitte’s eyes became distant. “I can still feel traces of the Gem from when Pippin and I entered the granite where it was hidden. It’s faint, but I can tell it’s east from here.” She nodded. “We should set out immediately.”

  Gornak was overcome by another coughing spell. “We must stay here at least overnight to rest,” he wheezed. “The endurance spell must be repaid.”

  “You are welcome to stay as long as you like,” said the Princess. “I will have chambers and food prepared for you.”

  Birgitte nodded her acceptance and stood up on the cushion. She absently patted her waist. “My bag!” she said. “It’s missing.”

  “It must have fallen off in the ice storm,” I said.

  Birgitte was considerably more upset about her missing bag than her damaged wing. “I can’t do magic without tlaelar dust,” she said. “I need to find a new supply.” She turned to the Princess. “Are there any sprites in this elven community?”

  The Princess shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know of any sprites in these mountains.”

  Birgitte wrung her hands and paced back and forth on the chair cushion. She muttered in such a high-pitched voice that I couldn’t understand her.

  In a few minutes, one of the Princess’ attendants beckoned to us.

  “Birgitte?” Nelathen asked the distraught sprite. “May I carry you?” She nodded but said nothing.

  We followed the Princess’ attendant up, down and around a series of platforms. She led us to a room high in an ash tree, draped in dark green silk on the outside and white on the inside. Smaller chambers had been divided off from the larger chamber, and were filled with large, soft pillows. In the main chamber a table was heaped with fruits and elven bread. Although the elves don’t eat meat, they had arranged some dried meat for the cougar, the dwarf and me. We ate our fill and retired to the smaller chambers to sleep.

  The next morning I woke up feeling especially well-rested and refreshed. I suspected there might have been a spell around the tree to ensure peaceful rest. We ate another meal and packed our bags with fresh supplies.

  Aliiana hopped onto my saddle and looked around for Birgitte. “Are you ready?” she asked Birgitte.

  Birgitte still sat at the breakfast table and her anxiety was plain. Her face was gaunt and her wings were limp. Her voice was high-pitched as she said, “I can’t continue the mission.”

  Chapter 7

  Birgitte was normally calm and rational, so the change in her demeanor was alarming. “I can’t go with you,” she said, tears streaming down her green face. “I need to locate my kin to obtain more tlaelar dust.”

  “We can come with you,” said Aliiana. “Where is the nearest sprite community?”

  “I searched telepathically. The nearest sprites are southwest of here, near the hot springs.”

  “We would be happy to take you to your kin,” I said. She seemed to calm a bit, but I noticed her tiny hand kept straying to her belt, where the bag should have hung.

  “Birgitte,” said Aliiana. “Would you like to ride on Pippin with me?”

  Birgitte looked at her ruined wing and nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

  Aliiana modified the saddle with some borrowed elven fabric, and when she was done Birgitte was able to sit comfortably and safely in front of Aliiana on my back.

  We took our leave of the Princess and her court, and set out to the southwest. Nelathen and Barrol were in the lead this time. Barrol ranged out far ahead of our party, and came back periodically with reports of the terrain ahead of us.

  Within a few hours we came to the hot springs. We carefully made our way through an alien landscape of terraced pools and gurgling springs. There were pools of every color—greens, yellows, rust, orange—and they emitted steam that smelled like rotten eggs. Gray and brown mud puddles popped and spluttered.

  It seemed like a harsh place for the tiny, delicate sprites to live. I took the lead so Birgitte could navigate us through the hot springs. After we circled a large pool that spattered globs of pale tan mud, she told me to stop.

  “The rest of you cannot go past here,” she said. “My kin are not very welcoming of strangers. If I could still fly, I would go alone, but with my injury I will require Pippin’s assistance.”

  Aliiana dismounted and retrieved her equipment. She looked around, and pointed to a small rocky hill with a dense stand of shrubby trees. “We’ll wait for you in the trees,” she said.

  I barked to my mistress and turned back to the path.

  “You’ll need to be careful, Pippin,” said Birgitte. “Sprites aren’t always very nice to outsiders. I think you’ll be safe because of your fey blood. No other creature would be allowed to approach.”

  I wondered what the sprites would do to me if they decided they didn’t like me.

  We reached an area where the minerals from the hot springs had built up a large rounded hill. The mound looked like a birthday cake, with waves and swirls of white and yellow, but the frosting was rock. The smooth stone curved down in layers, leaving a few gaps between the formations.

  Birgitte steered me to one of the gaps. “In here,” she said. “You might need to duck your head.”

  The gap was barely big enough for me to squeeze through. We found ourselves in a cave, with faintly glowing creamy rock walls and stalactites hanging from the ceiling. A brighter yellow light spilled from a cavern ahead.

  “Slowly now, Pippin,” whispered Birgitte. I tiptoed forward as quietly as I could.

  Suddenly, the floor beneath my feet glowed blue. I hastily tried to pull up a paw but my feet were stuck fast to the floor, like I�
��d stepped in a puddle of superglue. It wasn’t painful, but I was effectively immobilized.

  A sprite appeared in front of us, a glowing blue rod in his hands pointed at us. “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “I am Birgitte, of the Faille Clan. This is Pippin, my escort.”

  “And why did you bring an animal in here?” he asked, pointing the blue rod directly at my head.

  Birgitte slowly slid off my saddle, hands in the air. She turned slightly so that her damaged wing was visible. “I require an escort because of my injuries.”

  The sprite squinted at her wing, then nodded. “He may enter. But if he tries anything, I’ll blast him.” The blue glow disappeared and my paws were free. “Why are you here, Birgitte of the Faille Clan?” he asked.

  “I’m on a mission of importance to all fey. I’ve lost my tlaelar dust and need more.”

  The sprite frowned. “Come,” he instructed, and flew to an opening halfway up the cavern wall.

  Birgitte climbed up on my back, and I jumped to the hole, barely making it. It was a smaller chamber, lit by the same creamy glow. There were six or eight sprites here, fluttering around and talking. I was surprised that they weren’t all green like Birgitte. There were also blue, yellow, and purple sprites, all with lighter colored hair and wings and darker clothing.

  A lavender sprite fluttered toward us with a glowing yellow orb held menacingly in her hand. “A sprite from another clan has never dared ask for our tlaelar dust,” she said. “Explain yourself.”

  Birgitte introduced herself again, and explained our mission to find the Gem, as well as the circumstances of her injury and the loss of her bag in the ice tornado.

  The lavender sprite fluttered back and huddled in conversation with a yellow sprite. I couldn’t hear what they said, but the yellow sprite kept looking at us and gesturing threateningly with another blue rod.

  The other sprites spread out in a circle around us. Suddenly the blue glow popped up on the floor again, and my paws were trapped. Then it crept up my legs to my chest and tummy, and up the saddle to Aliiana’s legs. I regretted wondering what the sprites would do to me if they didn’t like me.

  Chapter 8

  “Excuse me,” I said. “I apologize for entering your cave without permission. But our quest is important to all fey, including the sprites. Birgitte wouldn’t ask for your dust if it wasn’t important.”

  Finally, the yellow sprite spread his arms and retreated. The lavender sprite gestured to the others. She waved a hand and the sticky blue glow disappeared. “Very well,” she said. “We will allow you to harvest some tlaelar.”

  The first sprite approached us again and smiled. “Sorry for my rudeness earlier,” he said. “I’m Frenel of the Dolan Clan. I’ll show you to the plants.”

  “Plants?” I asked.

  Birgitte patted my head. “Tlaelar dust is actually the pollen of a rare plant that is grown by the sprites. It’s how we channel the Gem’s magic, and we’re very protective of the plants.”

  Frenel led us to a larger cavern. Bright yellow light shone from the cavern, and as we entered, I saw that the light was actually radiating from the flowers. The plants looked a bit like lilies, with green spiky leaves and golden petals.

  A number of sprites buzzed around the flowers. Some carried small feathery wands, which they brushed on one flower and then another. “Those sprites are pollinating the flowers,” Birgitte explained. She pointed to other sprites who filled small bags with the sparkling tlaelar dust. “And those sprites are harvesting the pollen.”

  “You may take as much as you need,” said Frenel.

  Birgitte took up one of the small pollen bags and stood up on my back to reach the flowers. A moment later, she said, “We’re finished.” She turned back to Frenel. “The Faille Clan is in debt to the Dolan Clan.” They bowed respectfully to one another. Frenel led us back to the entrance and I squeezed out of the cave to rejoin our friends.

  We resumed our eastward trek. We left the mountains and found ourselves travelling across wide grasslands. The wind stirred grasses taller than me—taller even than Barrol, and sage grouse bustled around us. We startled a herd of pronghorn antelopes, and they took off faster than I could hope to run. We headed east, then south, then east again as Birgitte’s sense of the Gem shifted.

  At some point we crossed into South Dakota. We had to bypass south to avoid the Black Hills and Mount Rushmore. Even though it was only spring, the human tourists were already out in droves in their minivans and SUVs.

  One afternoon I caught a small brown blur in my peripheral vision. I turned and it was gone. A minute later the brown blur jumped in front of me and yelled, “Boo!”

  It was a small weasel, brown and white. He stood up on his rear legs and gazed at me and my riders.

  “Hello,” said Aliiana cautiously.

  “Bet you didn’t expect to see me,” the weasel said, and took off again. A moment later he was back, emerging from under a sage brush. “My mistress hoped you would come.”

  I was more than a little confused. Apart from my Corgwyn kin, the only animal I had met who could speak the human language was Barrol. “Who are you?” I asked.

  “I’m Bak,” he answered. “I’m a black-footed ferret.” He stood up on his hind legs again and waved his black front paws. “See?” He had a long body and tail, and also had black markings around his eyes.

  “And what are you doing here?” I asked. The ferret was jumping around and didn’t seem to hear me so I asked again, “Why are you here?”

  “My mistress sent me to watch for you.”

  “Who is your mistress?” Aliiana asked.

  “Sandra. Of the Oglala Sioux.” The ferret dashed around the sage brush again. “She felt evil pass by recently, and hoped that good would follow. She sent me to fetch you.”

  I was becoming suspicious of this hyperactive weasel. “To fetch us?”

  “Yep,” he said cheerfully. “Follow me!”

  Nelathen and Gornak had joined us. They exchanged glances and shrugged. Nelathen turned to Aliiana. “Should we go with him?”

  “I think so,” said Aliiana. “If his mistress is a human, she must be a powerful wise woman to have a familiar. She may be able to help us locate the Gem.”

  We followed the ferret a mile or two to the south to a small house surrounded by cedars. He led us around behind the house, where a dark-haired human woman sat at a picnic table covered with books.

  I was nervous about our group meeting her. The fey and dwarves have always tried hard to hide their existence from humans. I could pretend to be a dog, but the others were pretty conspicuous.

  She looked up, smiled, and rose from the bench. She didn’t seem surprised to see such a bizarre group wander into her backyard. “Welcome,” she said, coming around the table. “I’m Sandra Two Crow.” She gestured to the ferret, who had scurried up onto the table. “And you’ve met Bak, of course.”

  Aliiana stepped forward and introduced us all. “Pardon me for asking,” she said, “but how do you know of the fey?”

  Sandra smiled. “Most people don’t. But in every culture there is wisdom which has been passed down for generations.” She turned back to the table and hurriedly stacked the books on one end. “Please, sit down.”

  We all sat around the picnic table. Sandra poured glasses of water for everyone, and set out bowls of water for the cougar and me. “You’re wondering why I sent Bak to find you,” she said. “Last week, I felt a terrible evil nearby. I sensed non-human beings, and also sensed that a powerful force was being transported against its will.”

  Aliiana nodded. “Yes, an evil act has been committed.”

  Sandra gestured to the stacked books. “Those journals contain stories that have been passed down in my family. They tell of the other races on this planet, and of magic, and of good and evil. They also tell of the Ruseol Gem. Is that the powerful force I sensed?”

  “Yes,” Aliiana said. “The Ruseol Gem was stolen and we are attemptin
g to recover it.”

  “Who stole it?” Sandra asked.

  “We only know the name, Angarath, but we don’t know who or what Angarath is,” said Nelathen. “Does the name mean anything to you?” Sandra shook her head, and Nelathen continued. “We know the thief is a powerful dark wizard, who may have dwarven and elven wizards under his command. He also had a troll with him.”

  “Ahh…” Sandra nodded. “That explains the non-humans I sensed, and the great evil. And do you know why he stole it?”

  “He left a message,” said Aliiana. “It said, ‘The power will be mine.’ We assume he’s trying to absorb the Gem’s power for his own uses.”

  Sandra pulled a map from the stack of books and unfolded it on the table. She pulled a pencil from behind her ear and sketched in a path. “This is where I felt the Gem pass. They came from the west, swung down to the south, and then into the Badlands.” She circled an area on the map. “I felt it in this area for several days, but now my sense of it has dimmed. I don’t understand why.” She looked up. “Can any of you sense it?”

  Birgitte nodded. “I can sense its direction, which is east, but not its distance.”

  Sandra looked at her wristwatch. “My kids will be home soon, and it’s best that they don’t see all of you. They’re not yet old enough to learn of your races. I’m afraid I can’t come with you to help locate the Gem, but I can send Bak with you. He knows the Badlands very well.”

  Bak jumped around in excitement. “Cool!” he chirped. He seemed to have picked up a lot of human phrases. “This is going to be awesome.”

  Nelathen bowed to Sandra, and Aliiana shook her hand. “Thank you, Sandra Two Crow, for your help,” said Aliiana. I barked my thanks as well.

  We set off again, following the bouncing weasel as he scurried around sage and prickly pear cactus, zipping back and forth across our path.

  “Can you get us to the area that Sandra circled on the map?” I asked. “If we can get close, I might be able to pick up the troll’s scent again.”

  “Sure can, dude,” he answered. He led us for several miles into the remote areas of Badlands National Park. Erosion had cut hills and mesas into the ground, revealing sedimentary rock layers in various colors—yellows, grays, reds, and even greens. Some of the mesas were topped with patches of grass and waving yellow wildflowers.