“Yes, quite,” Crimson said with a nod. “Féradoon is a powerful place and the power that the wishing stone would have had to hold to drive the Gate likely burned it out. We can’t know for sure until a few more days yet. It takes up to a week for the stone to recover from that kind of power outlay, if it will even recover at all.”
Phinnegan turned the stone over and over in his fingers while he listened to the red-haired Faë destroy every avenue of which he was aware that could lead to his escape from this world.
“Can’t one of you just do a bit of magic, then? Send me home, like?”
The two Faë shared a glance and then it was Periwinkle that spoke.
“Possibly…but it would take the combined abilities of the two of us and even then there would be great personal risk to both of us. Not to mention you. Opening a Gate for travel to your world is hard enough to do for ourselves, if you recall me telling you how the Passes are narrowing and all. But to open one for another, and for a human at that…”
“Nearly impossible,” the red-haired Faë finished his kinsman’s thought.
Phinnegan lowered his head and stared at the blanket that covered his legs. Tears welled in his eyes but he refused to cry.
“I guess I must stay here forever…”
“You say it like it’s a prison sentence!” Crimson exclaimed with a smile. “But do you not realize the opportunity before you? Humans in our world are few and far between. You can see wonders that you have never dreamed of…” Crimson’s voice trailed off and the only sound in the room was the muffled sniffle as Phinnegan pulled the back of his sleeve across his face.
“I just want to go home…”
Crimson’s face fell at the sound of the young boy’s voice. He bit his lip and turned to Periwinkle. The two Faë put their heads together and spoke in hushed whispers for a few moments. And then they bent down and whispered with the ugly little creature that carried the big book. With a nod, the creature lumbered across the room to a stool, the right height for a table to a person of his stature, and sat the book on top. He wiped his brow before using both hands to lift the cover of the book. Running a knobby-knuckled finger down the page, he appeared to be searching for something. At length, he stopped and then flipped furiously through the book until he was very near the center. Here he stopped and beckoned to the two Faë.
Phinnegan had not been paying attention to the activity around him, but the extended silence began to weigh on him. He lifted his head and was perplexed to see the two Faë bending over the large book, the creature pointing and gesticulating wildly, speaking to them in a gravely whisper. Phinnegan could not make out the words, and was not sure if they would have been in a language that he could recognize had he been able to.
The three stood over the book for some time before Crimson finally straightened and began to pace back and forth in the middle of the room.
“It just might work,” he said to no one in particular, yet Periwinkle either assumed the comment was directed at him or felt the need to respond in some way.
“It’s not without its risks, but aye, it could work at that.”
The creature interjected now, and Phinnegan was right that the words were nonsensical to him. But Crimson nodded furiously.
“Good point, Daga, good point. But we still have to get in. We can’t just walk right up and say ‘how do you do, might I explore your castle?’ Not going to work.”
The creature grumbled and crossed his arms, his suggestion evidently a good one, but not without its difficulties.
“Well hold on, mate,” Periwinkle said, pulling a roll of parchment from an unseen pocket. “We might be able to just walk in at that.” He handed the parchment to Crimson who cast a wary look before taking the parchment and unrolling it. As he read, a smile spread across his face.
“Brilliant! What luck!”
The red-haired Faë read the parchment a second time and then again for a third. When he finished, he handed it to the creature who read through it quickly. He too, smiled, or something like it. He cackled and uttered a few words which drew a laugh from Periwinkle.
“You’re right at that. And we’ve just enough time to make it.” He glanced at Phinnegan, who looked in wonder back and forth between the Faë and the creature. “Can he make it, you think?” Periwinkle asked, directing the question to Crimson.
“I’d wager that he can. Phinnegan, dear friend, we have quite possibly come across a way to get you home. But we’ve no time to lose and we have a long way to go. Can you handle it, you think?”
Phinnegan pushed the blanket back, which made him only slightly dizzy. He sputtered as he rushed his words.
“Ye…yes, I can.” He paused to let the dizziness subside. “I…uh, I can’t run but I can walk. I think…Where are we going? What have you found out?”
“Don’t worry about running. We can’t run there even if we wanted to. We’ve about a mile to the bridge. Can you walk that far?
“I…I think so.”
“Good. Periwinkle and I can help you along if need be. Once we’re to the bridge, it will be easy enough. Any good at riddles?” Crimson asked, casting an amused glance in Phinnegan’s direction.
“What do riddles have to do with anything?”
“The troll, of course. I’m not about to pay if I don’t have to.”
“Troll?! But trolls are mean and…don’t they eat people?”
The creature made a horrible gurgling sound just as Phinnegan asked this question. When he looked at it closely, he saw that it was laughing.
“You’ve heard too many stories, mate,” Periwinkle said in between chuckles. “We’ll be fine. But we must hurry.”
“I don’t understand! Why are we going to see a troll?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” Periwinkle called over his shoulder as he rushed from the room.
“But…!” Phinnegan shouted as he stumbled from his bed. “What is going on?”
“I’ll explain on the way. We must hurry!” Crimson placed a hand firmly on Phinnegan’s arm and steadied him as the two of them scurried from the room.
“Where are we going?”
“We, my friend, are going to Castle Heronhawk.”
The Troll under the Bridge
They were quite a curious bunch, this group of four that set out at a brisk pace from the quaint cottage of one Crimson Grouse. The ruby-red-haired Faë led the way, a fine gray cloak now draped across his shoulders, billowing in the breeze. Behind him walked the flashy Periwinkle Lark, resplendent in a cloak of shimmering silver and a great black hat with a large purple feather tucked beneath the band. Leaning against him stumbled Phinnegan Qwyk, whose common cream shirt and worn brown trousers looked out of place beside the finery of the purple-haired Faë. In the rear waddled the stout little creature, naked save for a ruddy brown cloth that was draped over his body, resembling a brown sack with holes cut for his head and arms as much as a piece of real clothing.
Phinnegan, despite asking many questions as they made their way along the wide dirt road, had learned little about where they were going and why. Crimson had only deigned to say that they were going to the bridge and that this road led just there.
Periwinkle mumbled under his breath as they moved along, apparently searching his tricky mind for a riddle. Phinnegan wondered if Crimson was doing the same.
Sighing, Phinnegan let his mind follow his eyes, and wander across the countryside. He focused on the sweeping meadow that spread out from the road to their right. It covered the landscape as far as the eye could see with only a tree here and there to break the continuity.
He tried his best to ignore the left side of the road, for it was here that the edge of Darkwater Forest crept dangerously close to their path. But try as he might, the woods drew his eyes. When his gaze wandered to the dark tree line, he thought he saw more than one pair of eyes gazing back. Whether they were real or more hallucinations, he neither knew nor cared. But either way, he did not look upon the forest again.
As they walked, Phinnegan grew tired. This was the longest mile that he could ever remember walking, and he had walked a great many. But just when he thought to open his mouth and ask how much further it would be, the sound of rushing water reached his ears. Water likely meant a river, and where there was a river, there was bound to be a bridge.
“Almost there,” Crimson called back over his shoulder. Phinnegan looked around but saw no evidence of any water, yet the sound grew louder and louder. When he and the others caught up to where Crimson had halted some moments before, he saw why no river had been visible.
They stood at the top of a small hill, or what had seemed a small hill when they had begun to climb it. But it was no hill at all. When Phinnegan reached the top he saw that it was instead a cliff. A narrow staircase began just at its edge, a few steps beyond where Crimson had stopped. The steps descended back and forth down the side of the cliff. Looking up and out, he saw perhaps a hundred yards away another cliff.
“Where’s the bridge?” Phinnegan asked.
“Down there,” Crimson said, pointing over the edge of the cliff.
“You mean we have to go down those stairs?” Phinnegan asked as he crept to the edge of the cliff and peered down. His knees wobbled. The bridge was indeed down there.
Very
far down there. He guessed the river must be at the very bottom of the chasm, and that the bridge was somewhere in between.
“It’s not as bad as it looks. Just don’t look down,” Crimson said with a wry smile. “Come on then,” he scolded as he led the way down. Periwinkle followed quickly behind him, looking back over his shoulder to catch Phinnegan’s eye.
“Careful, mate. Stay close to the wall and you’ll be fine. It’s not as bad as it looks, honestly.”
The four began their descent with Crimson and Periwinkle almost bounding as they swooped down the old and crumbled staircase. Phinnegan was more cautious, both because he still felt weak and also because he was scared he would fall to his death. There were no railings to protect a careless traveler from falling into the great abyss, nor was he as surefooted as the two Faë. He kept a hand on the wall to steady himself as he made his way down. The two Faë stopped now and then giving Phinnegan and the creature a chance to catch up. The creature was also slow because his short legs demanded it.
Despite Crimson’s earlier assurance that they were not that far from the bridge, the descent took a half an hour. Phinnegan had maintained his balance for the most part, slipping only twice on his way down, but both times the creature had snickered behind him.
Phinnegan did not care for this little creature, not one bit.
When the final two reached the bottom they found the two Faë waiting for them.
“All right, all in one piece?” Crimson asked as he checked them all for any signs of trouble on the way down.
“Well enough it seems. You All right there, mate?” Periwinkle asked.
“Yes. I’m just tired.”
“I’m sure you are. You should probably still be in bed, but that can’t be helped. The physical part is over now. Although the hard part lies ahead.”
“And what’s that?” Phinnegan asked, still a bit short of breath from the climb down.
“We’ve got to make our way past the troll, of course. Used to be that you could just buy your way with some pretty thing, but now they practically want half your fortune – or your firstborn. Riddles are the only way to go now.” Crimson cast a glance at Periwinkle. “Have you got a good one, then?”
“Fantastic. Just you wait.”
Phinnegan, who had never before seen a troll, was frightened by the prospect. Trolls were large and ugly. They were strong, stupid and they ate people, particularly those that tried to cross their bridge. He voiced as much to the two Faë, as he had done before they left Crimson’s cottage, but again he was met with laughter.