The Eye Of Luvelles Part 34

Gage secured a tin that was filled with water and took a drink. "I've been thinking."

Gallrum slurped up another eye and hissed a response. "About what?"

"The other Peak, you said something about Strongbear hibernating when the season changed."

"Mmmmmm ... you've got to try one of these."

Gage waved off the offer. "Gallrum, pay attention. I have an idea that'll benefit us all."

The serwin swallowed the eye. He was about to respond when he accidentally burped it back up. "Oops. Guess I didn't chew that one enough," he justified.

The badger had to fight off the need to gag.

Gallrum looked at Gage like his reaction was uncalled for. "What's wrong with you? It's just quaggle."

The badger pushed his disgust aside and continued with his idea. "Anyway, I was thinking that Strongbear has acc.u.mulated enough fat. He's ready for hibernation."

"I agree, but the season hasn't changed," Gallrum argued. "It isn't cold enough for him to sleep."

"I have a solution for that. There are enough of us living in Gogswayne to do something about it. I would wager that if we combine our magic, we could summon a change of season."

Gallrum adjusted his coils. "You expect us to change the season on all of Luvelles? Only the G.o.ds can do such a thing."

"No. Not on Luvelles. I only want to change the season in Gogswayne."

The serwin scratched the top of his head. "That may be possible."

"Yes, and he won't be able to boss us around any longer."

"That's brilliant!" Gallrum's wings began to flap. He lifted off the stone and hovered into to a position that was eye-level with Gage. "How do we inform the others without Strongbear learning of our plan? I would hate to see a bear of that size angry."

The badger took another bite of corgan. "How often do you go topside to speak with Swill?"

Gallrum lifted his eyes and counted in his head. "Every seventh Peak. I stand on the sh.o.r.e of the lake just after sunset. Swill swims up and takes a report back to Ultor. It's my task to inform him of significant changes that have transpired within the village and then return to Strongbear."

"Who goes in your place when you're sick?" Gage queried.

"Strongbear, of course." Gallrum grinned. "Aahhhh ... you want to have our meeting while he's reporting to Swill."

Gage chuckled. "I think you're catching on. When's your next report?"

"Tomorrow night. But there's a problem with that."

"And that problem would be?"

"I'm not sick," Gallrum proclaimed. "How can Strongbear go if I'm not ill?"

Gage growled and thumped the top of the serwin's forehead with the backside of his paw. "Are you truly this thick? You pretend. You fake it. You act sick. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Aahhhh. I can do that. That could be fun." The serwin straightened into a regal posture and then put his right claw on his chest. "I've always pictured myself as a thespian."

Gage grinned. "I'm going to enjoy the thought of Strongbear's slumber." He mocked, "So, are you with me ... or are you against me?"

Gallrum winked. "Oh, I'm with you."

Both goswigs laughed.

Mogg's Village in the Trees Brayson made his way back from the blushel berry bushes that were a fair hike from Mogg's village. The Sprite Queen had chosen a tree just behind her personal residence for Brayson to fill. The Head Master now had two baskets that were filled with more than 2,000 berries in each, and judging by the size of the trunk, a single trip would be more than sufficient to fill the tree.

Many of Mogg's kind were flying all around Brayson as he sauntered into the village carrying the baskets. Their excitement could be heard as their voices cried out in song. Glorious showers filled with sparkling colors fell from their wings like glitter and dissipated just before they hit the ground.

Brayson stopped in front of the tree and waved his hand across its surface. The hole opened and allowed the Head Master to pour the berries inside. Once the task was complete and the spell had been cast to protect the fruit, the hole reduced to its normal size.

Brayson returned to Mogg's tree. The sprite emerged and hovered in front of him. "You have kept your word, Wizard. Now, I shall keep mine. Follow me."

"Where?"

"Not where, Wizard. When. Follow me to your when."

"How do I follow you to the past?" the Head Master queried.

Mogg shook her small head. "You ask many questions. How is it that you talk so much and still manage to learn? Just follow. You'll see. Your when is about to become your now."

"But how do you know what when I seek?"

"I always know, Wizard. Stop talking and follow."

The other fairies quickly disappeared into their hollowed homes as the Head Master did as he was told. The sprite's magic began to shape their moments, and Brayson watched the scenery change before his eyes. When the images came to a stop, the sunlight had faded and a large shed was sitting in front of them. The outside of the structure was dimly lit by a single street-torch that sat on the far side of a dirt road.

"This is your when, Head Master."

"How can you be so sure?" Brayson queried. "Where are we? When are we?"

"Your when is the night of your friend's pa.s.sing. Your where is on Southern Grayham. This place is a smith's barn outside a city filled with champions. The answer you seek is walking this way."

Brayson turned and looked down the gravel road. The city gates of Champions were well lit in the distance, and many other street-torches lined the road. It was too dark to make out much at first, but as they drew near, the torchlight revealed their silhouettes. "Mogg, they'll see us."

"No, Wizard, they won't. We aren't a part of this when. We can only observe."

As the silhouettes came into focus, Brayson smiled as he saw Amar's face. Yet someone unexpected was with him-someone he would have never imagined to see at this particular moment. It was George. "Mogg, are you sure this is the when I'm seeking? The other man shouldn't be here."

"Yes, Wizard, I'm sure. Just watch. See, instead of talk. My magic to seek out moments is strong. I have brought you to the right when."

"Are you sure they can't see us?"

Mogg giggled. An increase of sparkling color cascaded from her wings and fell toward the ground. "You have already asked me that. You appear to lack much intelligence for such a powerful elf."

Brayson ignored the sprite's tone and moved in to listen to George and Amar's conversation. He followed them to the door of the smith's barn.

George tugged on the lock. "I want to go inside. Amar, use some of your hocus pocus on this lock."

"Why, George?" Amar responded.

"Because it's chilly out here, and there's a forge inside."

After George and Amar argued about the consequences, Brayson watched Amar lift his staff to speak the simple command. The lock released, and both men entered. Brayson followed.

George took a seat on a wooden bench near the forge. "Amar, there are moments when I feel like I'm going crazy. I miss my daughter something fierce."

Amar crossed his arms. "George, are we really out here to talk about your kin? We could've done that in the morning. What could be so important that you had to wake me up?"

Brayson took note of George's demeanor as his Mystic Learner responded. Everything on the surface seemed normal, but his gut told him otherwise.

"I want to tell you something. When I first met you, I thought you were a chump, but I've grown fond of you over the last few Peaks. You remind me of my father back home."

Brayson shook his head. "He lies. But why?"

Amar responded. "I'm honored you hold me in such high regard. Thank you."

As the conversation continued, Brayson did not know what to make of the look of desperation that appeared on George's face. It felt insincere.

"I really need some advice. If I'm going to take on the barbarians, I'm going to need help."

The Head Master moved to a better position and waited for Amar to respond, but his friend never did.

George continued. "I didn't want Kepler and Maldwin to hear this, but I need a friend. I need a father figure. I've lost so much." Again, George paused. "But more than that, I need someone I can completely trust, and I see you as the person I can tell anything. But I may be a.s.suming too much. I'm sorry, Amar, but do you think you could be all that for me?"

Brayson shook his head. He spoke to Amar, but the mage was unable to hear him. "Say no. Something's amiss. Can't you see it?"

Amar placed his right hand on George's left knee and squeezed. "You sound desperate. Are you okay, George?"

Brayson sighed. "Good, Amar. You can see it, can't you? Don't allow yourself to be deceived."

George shook his head. "No, I'm not okay. Look, I know I sound like some kind of sap right now, and I completely understand if you don't think you can be there for me." He paused again. "I mean ... what was I thinking? I'm sorry, Amar. I shouldn't have bothered you."

The Head Master just rolled his eyes as George finished off his deception by allowing a tear to roll down his cheek. "Amar, you should leave," Brayson directed, but again, his friend was unable to hear him.

A look of confusion appeared on Amar's face as the shed went silent for a short series of moments. "I am old enough to be your father. I suppose I have it in me. I have to admit that I had my doubts about you as well. I didn't think you cared for my companions.h.i.+p. I'm surprised at your request."

Brayson snapped his fingers next to Amar's ear. "Are you truly so blind, Amar?" He looked at the sprite. "Mogg, you must let me speak so that he can hear me."

The Sprite Queen hovered over and lowered onto Brayson's shoulder. "I have already told you. We are not a part of this when, Head Master. Your request is impossible."

Brayson grumbled. "There are no impossibilities in magic." He then focused on George. Eventually, his Mystic Learner spit in his palm and then offered it up to Amar. "...When we shake, it's a done deal. You do want to be my father, right?"

Brayson shouted as his friend extended his arm. "Stop smiling, Amar! This is a ruse! Can't you see it? You're a fool!" Again, the Head Master turned to face the sprite. "Mogg, please. Adjust your magic so that I may speak with him."

The Sprite Queen crossed her arms and tapped her foot against the top of his shoulder. "I have already announced on two other occasions that we cannot change the past, Wizard. Perhaps you should finish what you came for, or perhaps we should return to the when from whence we came."

" No," Brayson objected. "I must see what happens next. I need to know the truth."

"As you wish, Wizard. The reality of this when is not what you want it to be... But it is truth!"

Brayson frowned as Amar took hold of George's hand. He could see George's eyes change as a darkness appeared within them. The beginning of his friend's end had begun.

"I'm so glad you fell for this garesh," George hissed.

Brayson could only watch for so long before he turned to look at Mogg again. "He's ending him. I must help. You must allow it. I know you can."

"I will not, Wizard," the sprite defended. "As I have said, you can only watch that which happens during this when. We cannot change another's when for reasons of our own. If we do, our now, the now from which we came, will not be as it was."

Brayson's eyes narrowed. "This is wrong. How can you just stand by like this?"

"I do nothing because my nothing is somebody else's something in our now. You don't wish to take someone else's now from them, do you?"

Brayson stopped arguing. "No, Your Majesty, I don't."

Brayson paced as Amar's torture continued. Eventually, George pried open Amar's chest. The Head Master vomited as his new Mystic Learner ripped Amar's heart out and took the first bite.

The Head Master stumbled out of the barn with Mogg following as the smith's shed filled with a storm of light.

What the Head Master saw next was unexpected. A man dressed in a hooded tunic stood in the failing torchlight at the center of the gravel road. His face was hidden within the shadow of his hood, but it was clear he knew what was happening, yet he took no action to stop it.

Brayson was taken aback by the thought that someone could care so little about murder. The figure vanished a few moments later.

"Mogg, I wish to follow that man ... the one who disappeared. I want to know the next thing that happens in his when."

The sprite hovered in front of Brayson. "We cannot follow his when. I cannot find his trail."

"What do you mean? His trail begins right over there."

"I'm sorry, Wizard. His trail is too powerful. I would perish if I were to attempt to follow it."

"Then at least tell me that being's name. I'll find him in our now myself."

Mogg closed her eyes. A look of determination appeared on her face, but when she finally responded, she said, "His magic is too strong ... even for me."

Frustrated, Brayson looked at the door of the shed. "Then let's continue to follow George. I wish to know more about his when."

Again, Mogg closed her eyes, and after a moment of silence, she responded. "George's trail beyond this when has been blocked, and it is no longer one I can follow."

"What? Why?"

Yet again, the sprite closed her eyes to search for the answer. "The being who stood on the road has hidden the trail from me. He has made George's when forward untraceable. I fear it is no longer safe to stay in this when. We should leave."

"Mogg, how can a man from our now block another man's trail from this when ... especially when that trail is a part of his own when? How could he have known we were here?"

"I don't know your answer, Wizard."