"Come on, we will be heading back up soon. We'll make it to Friega by nightfall so you can sleep in a nice warm inn aboveground."
Hanuwar led them through tunnels that wound in and out of the mine shafts. When they came to a particularly small shaft, he motioned Lorit to follow him. Lorit had to squeeze between the oak pillars to get in, but he made it.
"Here." He pointed to a stone larger than the one Lorit had been given. "This is my life's work. I've been loosening this stone for almost my entire life. In a few more years, it will be ready to slip from the grasp of the mountain.
"This is the stone that replaces the one you now carry. It is even larger and more powerful, and I found it. I only hope that someday, I will have a son who is so fortunate to find one such as I have."
Lorit could feel the power in the stone. It was amazing, lit from within with a faint blue gold glow.
"It's wonderful," Lorit said.
The dwarf beamed with pride. "Come on. We need to make good time." He turned and led them back.
As they followed the path upwards, the floor turned to dirt and then sand. The roof of the tunnel was shored up more often until they were in a shaft that was entirely encased in wood.
"We're almost there," Hanuwar said. "It's just up ahead. You can almost smell the fresh air."
They emerged onto a small path, much like the one where Lorit and the Princess had first met the dwarf. "Here is where I leave you to your own devices," he said.
Hanuwar pointed up the path. "Take that path up the hill. In a few turns, you will strike the road that leads to the castle. Follow it."
"Thank you for your help," Lorit said. "If there is ever anything I can do for you..." Lorit wondered if he would ever be able to repay the dwarf for his hospitality.
"Thank you, Lorit. It is not often we meet one of the Mighty Ones. It has been a great honor, one that we will cherish for the rest of our lives." He bowed his head deeply.
"I'm not one of the Mighty Ones." Lorit was embarrassed by Hanuwar's attention. He was just trying to make his way through life without getting into trouble, and making a real mess of it. He was not a mighty Wizard.
"As you say. We will tell stories of your visit to the children as they sit beside the fires at night. This way. You have a journey to complete." Hanuwar led them to a path that intersected the roadway just ahead.
The castle loomed overhead. It was built of the same gray granite that lined the tunnels, but somehow it was dull in comparison to the splendor of the dwarves' tunnels. Hanuwar shook Lorit's hand in farewell, drawing him close as he did.
"Beware, Lorit," Hanuwar whispered in his ear. "Until you remove the remaining spells from the Princess, she is a great danger to you. Do not let your guard down."
Friega
They arrived in Friega and secured lodging by sundown. In the morning, Lorit rose shortly after sunrise. He'd left the Princess in her own room and had slept fitfully, worrying about Chihon. If he were successful in removing the remaining spells from the Princess, would he be able to locate Chihon?
He reached out to contact her. Her magic was still there, but it was weak. He pushed harder, trying to break through the shield around Chihon, but it was no use. He had to try to free the Princess. He was more convinced than ever that Princess Ukina was the key to finding Chihon.
He decided to take a walk to clear his head and started down the street. Soon he came to a park that overlooked the sheer drop off. There were no walls to keep invading armies out, here, only a small stone wall to remind the inhabitants of the edge. The cliffs upon which the city was built were stronghold enough in most places.
As he stood at the edge of the precipice, he could see the valley far below. The dirty white streak of the Ice Father scarred the landscape, dredging up rocks and dirt to mix with the snow. A breeze rose up, bringing with it a chill. It froze Lorit to the bone and he pulled his robe tighter around him. Lorit had taken to wearing the robe the King had given him. He thought it made him look more like a Wizard. At the moment, he would have traded it for a good thick coat and a pair of pants that tied off against his legs.
A few children dashed about the park, playing their games as an orange robed monk watched over them. Lorit could hear their screams of enjoyment as they scampered about.
Suddenly Lorit was overcome with a sense of loss. Something was happening to Chihon. He could feel it over the weak and tenuous connection that they still shared. He fell to his knees, his head in his hands. She needed him and he was unable to reach her. He wanted to cry out, but he bit back his rage.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Are you ill, my son?" It was the monk in the orange robe.
Lorit didn't want to explain. It was too painful. "It was the memory of a lost friend that troubled me," was all he said.
"That is understandable. This is called the point of beautiful memories."
"Why do they call it that?"
"Just watch," the Monk said, gesturing to the precipice. "The cliff brings memories, and it brings beauty."
As he stood there, a shaft of sunlight burst through the clouds and lit the cliff face. He could see the bright light and almost feel its warmth. It was beautiful, so beautiful, it blunted his pain and worry over Chihon.
As he watched, a bright orange butterfly flew up from the face of the cliff to circle the park. It gently settled onto the branch of one of the trees. Soon another joined it, then another, then more. They came on in greater and greater numbers until the park was filled with bright orange wings wafting about on the breeze. Lorit could not see the sky beneath their crowded masses. They blanketed the trees in the park.
One landed on Lorit's sleeve. He reached out but stopped before he touched it. He looked over at the monk. "Is it safe to touch it?"
"Gently, don't rub the color off its wings."
Lorit reached down and lightly touched the fragile wings as the butterfly slowly opened and closed them. Its tiny black head watched him passively. The wings were as smooth as silk and as dainty as a kerchief. He wondered at it. The sight did bring him relief. This was a memory he could cherish.
He heard a child scream and tuned to look. Something flew over the edge of the cliff amidst the cloud of butterflies. He'd seen one of these before, in his vision of Chihon in the temple. It looked like a thick short weasel with twisted horns and short stubby bat wings. It swooped and dove chasing after the butterflies and then it turned towards Lorit. He wanted to duck or shield himself, but the hand of the monk resting on his shoulder tightened, warning him to hold still.
"A mini dragon," he whispered. "They are rare even here. They chase the butterflies sometimes. I think the color attracts them."
The mini dragon landed on Lorit's arm. He felt the weight of it as it sunk its claws into his robe.
The tiny twisted horns looked sharp and dangerous. The animal tilted its head and looked him straight in the eye. Lorit felt the touch of magic, and he was surprised at its strength. It was wild and powerful, something that Lorit had not encountered before.
"Hello, little fella. What's your name?" Lorit didn't know why people always asked pets what their name was. He always did, but felt a little foolish in this case since there was no owner to answer on the animal's behalf.
"Kal'ryni," the dragon said.
Lorit was not sure if the creature spoke or he had heard it in his head.
"You can talk?" Lorit blinked at the mini dragon in amazement.
"They don't talk," the monk said.
"This one does. He just told me his name."
"He told you his name?" The monk turned to Lorit. His eyes were wide, his hands fidgeting.
"Yes, he said his name was ..."
The monk held his hand up. "Do not speak it aloud. The name of a dragon holds much power."
The monk pulled at Lorit's arm. "Come with me. We must take you to the Senior. He will know what to do."
Lorit held out his arm expecting the mini dragon to fly away, but it sat there contentedly. "I think it's tame. It seems to like to sit on my arm."
"Mini dragons cannot be tamed. Only the bravest, most cunning, may capture one. They are creatures of magic and not to be treated like common pets."
"This one seems pretty tame to me." Lorit looked at the animal as it clung to his arm, its tiny claws digging into his robe. "You wouldn't hurt me, would you?"
Lorit hoped the mini dragon was going to speak again, but it just sat there silently.
"Come, we must go." The monk tugged Lorit's free arm.
The mini dragon hissed at the monk's touch. It tilted its head away from Lorit and let out a hissing sound that was quickly followed by a stream of fire. The monk released Lorit's arm, but urged him onward.
As they walked through the streets of the city, dragon perched on Lorit's arm, children came running out of their homes pointing at him. Some of them would spot him and rush back inside only to reemerge with a younger brother or sister in tow.
By the time Lorit and the Monk reached the Temple, there was a crowd of children following close behind them. The children pushed and shoved, and squealed with glee, as they followed Lorit down the streets. At the temple door, another monk halted the children, and had to restrain them from following Lorit inside.
The front room of the temple was large and open. It was decorated with rich silk tapestries stitched with scenes of the mountains. In some of them dragons were perched on the mountain peaks. Not the mini dragon, but the large beasts of legend.
The monk led Lorit into a smaller side room. He retrieved a large silk pillow from the corner and slid it before Lorit. "Please have a seat."
Lorit lowered himself onto it. He was careful not to upset the mini dragon that perched upon his arm. The dragon shifted its weight as Lorit sat. He lowered his arm to the floor and it dismounted to take up station next to Lorit's crossed legs. The mini dragon curled itself up and lay its head down. Soon Lorit could hear its light snores.
An elder monk entered the room and stopped, staring at the mini dragon. He looked from the animal to Lorit and back to the mini dragon. He slowly lowered himself onto the cushion, never taking his eyes off of the animal.
"Wizard," he stated simply.
"Yes," Lorit said.
"How did you get here?"
"Up the mountain."
The monk frowned. "We watch the pass."
"From the inside."
"How did you get inside?"
"We were invited in." Lorit was growing impatient. "Why do you ask these questions?"
"We want to know if you are a Wizard to be trusted. Would you rather tell me your story so I might judge?"
Lorit explained how they had been mistreated by the witch in Relynn, and how the dwarves had taken them through the mines. He explained about the spells on the Princess and how he was able to remove some, but not all of them.
As Lorit finished his story, the monk leaned over and patted him on the shoulder. "I'm glad you're here. I have waited long. Since my wife passed into the great beyond, I have been almost powerless. The monks need a new leader."
He stood up and motioned to Lorit to do likewise. "We have much to prepare. This brother will escort you back to your inn so you may rest before tonight's feast."
With that, he rose, bowed his head, and left the room.
Lorit returned to his room, dropped his pack and lay flat on his back on the bed. It was comfortable, more so than he was used to, sleeping on the road. He closed his eyes and focused. He reached out with his power and sought the Sorceress. He could feel the power of the mountain still with him, but this time there was more. He felt a strong glow emanating from the mini dragon. It was offering him power, just like Chihon did. Freely given, he absorbed the power into him and used it as he did his own.
The Wizard's study materialized around him almost instantly. It was much more solid than he had ever experienced it. The Sorceress stood beside the bookcase, a large volume open in her hand. She turned as Lorit appeared.
"Lorit. I wasn't expecting you."
"I need to talk to you. I've been able to get a stronger connection to Chihon, but I still can't reach her. I have a vague notion of where she is, but not enough to find her yet."
The Sorceress nodded to an empty chair. "Please sit."
Lorit moved over and took a seat where she had indicated. It felt solid and real, not the insubstantial ghost of a chair that it usually was when he had visited before. He reached out and touched it. It was solid. He slid it back and sat down. It was real, as was the table.
"Still expecting it to be insubstantial?"
"It always was before. Why has it changed?"
The Sorceress looked him over. She lifted her staff and waved it between them. "If I had to guess, I'd say you have met some interesting folks along your travels. You are maturing in your power. You will be able to travel at will soon." She continued to look Lorit over. "But that is not why you came to see me, is it?"
"No, I have discovered that the Princess was ensnared in several layers of magic. I was able to undo some of them while in the mountain, but not all. I know that she is tied to Chihon and think that if I could break the spell, it might reveal where Chihon is."
"Why do you think this is?"
"I met the dwarves in the mountain. They showed me the power beneath the earth and how to harness it. Today I met a mini dragon and it shared some of its power with me, too."
"That sounds encouraging. Maybe you will be able to cut through the remaining spells. Here, maybe I can find a suitable counter spell." Rotiaqua placed the book on the table and sat opposite Lorit. She paged through it until she found the one she wanted.
"This one. It may help." She turned the book so Lorit could read it. The spell was one of release and freedom. Lorit carefully memorized it.
"I'll try that one." Lorit stood up to leave. "Have you located Zhimosom yet?"
"Not yet. I am still searching. He is alive, but I know not where."