The Eye of Tanglewood Forest (Haymaker Adventures Book 3) Page 4

  The trio continued winding their way through the trees and meadows for several hours. None of them spoke to each other, preferring to maintain silence so as not to attract any enemies that might be lurking nearby. Unfortunately, despite their best efforts, they were found nonetheless.

  There was a rustling in a patch of bushes out behind a large oak tree to the east. Ziegler and Jason went to investigate, while Jonathan waited on the path as instructed. Not wanting to be caught off guard, Jonathan surveyed the area around him, scanning the shadows and the trees. As he inspected a clump of moon-flowers, he thought he saw the faint outline of a face peering back at him. He took a few steps toward the flowers to get a better look, and then one of the flowers swayed as if disturbed by something brushing past it.

  “I have something over here,” Jonathan called out over his shoulder.

  No one answered.

  He drew the short sword Ziegler had found for him while collecting supplies and carefully made his way toward the flowers. As he came within a few yards, a slight, delicate figure stepped out from the stalks. Jonathan stopped and stared at the creature. She was perhaps the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Long, light colored hair flowed down over her delicate shoulders. A gown of airy silk was draped neatly over her figure, the skirt ending just above the knees. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and she looked up at Jonathan with big, doe-like eyes of violet. She skipped out into the grass with bare feet and then smiled at him.

  “What…where…who are you?” Jonathan stammered as he fumbled to put his weapon away.

  The lithe creature pranced up to him, almost appearing to walk upon the air just above the ground as she moved. Her skirt flowed out behind her and her smile widened as she approached him. She giggled in a soft voice and covered her mouth with one hand, then she stopped abruptly and turned around and skipped away from him.

  “Wait, I won’t hurt you,” Jonathan called out.

  The woman paused and cast a sultry glance over her shoulder, and then she motioned for him to follow her. Jonathan hurried after her as she led him to the thick clump of moon-flowers. To his surprise, there were four more young females hiding amidst the moon-flower stalks. They all giggled and covered their mouths as they shared fleeting glances with him. They were all similar to the first, but each had different colors of skin, hair, and eyes. One had deep auburn hair and skin as black as onyx. Another had purple hair and skin as white as the moon. A green-skinned female came up to Jonathan and pressed her hand to his chest as she leaned in close with her face. Their lips came so close they nearly kissed, and Jonathan never noticed that the green-skinned female had used her other hand to take his sword belt.

  The first creature then approached and hung her hands on his right shoulder, giggling as he turned his head to regard her. Those violet eyes were so inviting. The longer he stared into them the more he longed to kiss her. Soon all of them were pressing up against him. His backpack was taken from him without a fight and a girl with golden skin wrapped her arms around his neck from behind and came in close to kiss his left cheek.

  Jonathan closed his eyes, completely captivated by their charms.

  Then there was a terrible crash and the five women all screamed and wailed.

  Jonathan clapped his hands over his ears and dropped to his knees for the pain of their screeching was too much for him. He only barely managed to peek out and see two large forms tearing through the clump of moon-flowers. The creature with the violet eyes fell dead in front of him, her eyes open and staring directly at him. The eyes lost their charm now, and Jonathan saw what she really was. Her gaping mouth revealed a set of nastily sharp teeth. Her skin, which had once appeared tan and beautiful, now appeared more as wood, as though she had been born from a tree.

  The battle lasted only a few seconds, for Ziegler killed three more of them and drove the rest away with his ferocity. Jason reached down to pick Jonathan up and brush him off.

  “You all right little brother?”

  “What were they?” Jonathan asked.

  “Wood nymphs,” Ziegler said. “We found another patch of them in the trees. I dare say you were only seconds away from death, my young friend.”

  “I… I don’t know what happened,” Jonathan said. “I saw something and I went to investigate. The next thing I knew I was…” Jonathan’s words trailed off as he whirled around, his head throbbing. He couldn’t remember how he had gotten into the moon-flowers.

  “It’s all right,” Ziegler said. “A wood nymph’s charms can snare even the smartest and strongest of soldiers. A boy your age is easy pickings for them.”

  Jonathan nodded and then looked to the other two. “How come they didn’t charm you?”

  Ziegler snickered and shook his head. “A person who has found real love is beyond their charms. No spell of theirs can hold a candle to the memory of my late wife,” he said.

  Jonathan then turned to Jason. “But what about you? You haven’t been married.” Then it dawned on him. “Pig-face?” Jonathan asked.

  Jason elbowed Jonathan in the chest hard enough to knock him back. “Her name is Annabell.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

  “Pick up your things,” Ziegler said.

  Jonathan gathered his equipment and the group was on their way once more. As they walked, he thought about what Captain Ziegler had said. It made sense that Ziegler was able to resist the wood nymphs, but Jonathan had had no idea that Jason felt so strongly about his fiancée. More perplexing than that, was the idea that if he was so easy for the wood nymphs to charm, then what did that say about his feelings for Miranda? He didn’t like where his thoughts were leading him, so he turned his mind back to the stranger that had appeared in the house in Sierryn and tried to tease out the riddles he had heard. He spent the rest of the night guessing as to what kind of information they would find at Lysander’s Peril, but still the implications of the wood nymphs’ easy triumph over him nagged at the back of his mind. Only when the group stopped for sleep did his thoughts finally allow him to rest.

  Ziegler woke them about an hour before sunrise, and the trio continued onward through the forest, stopping only once for a meal just after mid-day. Jonathan was nearly exhausted when they finally made camp a couple hours after the sun had set on them. They came upon the sound of a roaring waterfall in the darkness, and Ziegler had them halt and pitch camp, saying that they were within a few minutes’ walk of the edge of the canyon and that it would be best to approach it once the sun had risen. Jonathan was thankful to have reached Lysander’s Peril without further obstacles, but even more happy to rest that night after their grueling pace.

  As he began to close his eyes after supper, Jason asked Ziegler for more information about Lysander.

  “Surely you know who he is,” Ziegler replied.

  “I know of him, but I don’t know as much as you do,” Jason replied. “I had never heard of Lysander’s Peril either. In fact, I thought he died in war a long time ago.”

  “Many believe that,” Ziegler said. “But that isn’t accurate. Some scholars believe that he died here, in the canyon fighting a demon after winning the war against his brother Atek, but that isn’t true either.”

  “How can you be sure?” Jason pressed.

  “Because, there are stories, handed down through the generations that talk about him. He walks the lands, helping us when he can, and ever searching for a way to reopen the rainbow bridge.”

  “If he’s been around for thousands of years, then why hasn’t he found the answer yet?” Jason asked.

  “In his mortal form, he is not as strong as he was before he was born on this world. As a god, he had vastly superior powers, but as a mortal, he has lesser powers.”

  “You say mortal, but how old is he?”

  Ziegler sighed. “He is mortal in the sense that he can be killed, if the weapon used is powerful enough, but time has no power over him. He walks the land with more vigo
r than you or I have, I assure you, though I imagine he has a few wrinkles on his face to show for his devotion.”

  Jonathan, deciding that he wouldn’t be able to sleep with them talking so loudly, sat up. “If he is so powerful, then why send us here? Why not take care of the crystal himself?”

  Ziegler shrugged and poked the fire with a stick. “I suspect he either is busy, or fully confident in our abilities to stop Brykith.”

  “Where is he, exactly?” Jonathan asked. “Can we pray to him, or call upon him like a god?”

  Ziegler shook his head. “No. There is a lot to the story, but it is understood that because he refused to return to Volganor with Icadion after Atek was defeated, Lysander was unable to ascend to his rightful position. He cannot hear our prayers unless his full godhood was restored.”

  “But why ever leave the Astral Crystal alone?” Jonathan asked. “Why let it slip out of his hands?”

  Ziegler pointed to the darkness behind them. “Because down there, an army of demons attacked him. So ferocious and terrible was the battle that the very earth was rent and disfigured. Lysander survived, but there is a gap in recorded history for several hundred years after this event took place. No one saw him, or heard of him, for nearly four hundred years. Whatever came after him, it nearly destroyed him. For all I know, the crystal Brykith seeks may have sapped his power, or made him sick, or perhaps one of the demons nearly killed him. I don’t know, but I aim to find out tomorrow.”

  “But you believe he still lives?” Jason asked.

  Ziegler nodded. “I do,” he said. “More than that, I have seen him, in dreams.”

  Jonathan glanced to Jason. He wasn’t sure what to make of this last statement, but his brother only shrugged.

  “I suppose it may sound a bit silly to you, but he comes to me sometimes, in my dreams, and he gives me his sword. He calls it Myrskyn, and with it I am able to call down lightning and fire as if with the power of a god, or at least that of a great wizard.” Ziegler poked the fire again and sighed. “Obviously, I don’t have the sword, but I have had the dream at several key points in my life. The first time was after my family was slaughtered by trolls. It was the sign that I needed to join the Ghosts of the Murkle Quags. The other times came on the evenings before my greatest battles, including the night before we rescued you, Jason,” Ziegler said. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but let’s not make any of your foolish jokes about it either, understood?”

  Jason and Jonathan nodded.

  “Memaw prays to the Old Gods,” Jonathan said. “Sometimes I do too, but not as often as perhaps I should. I don’t know.” Jonathan laid back down as the conversation awkwardly died and silence fell over the camp. As he closed his eyes, he wondered what they were going to find down in the canyon below. Would there be a tomb for Lysander somewhere, or perhaps a giant demon’s skeleton? Whatever they were going to find, he could only hope it would help them find Raven faster.

  CHAPTER 4

  The following morning, Jonathan woke to see that they had pitched camp only a couple dozen yards away from the massive canyon, just as Ziegler had thought when they made camp the night before. More than that, the trees had all stopped several hundred feet back, and there weren’t any trees on the other side of the canyon for a long ways either. They had arrived at Lysander’s Peril. The sun broke over the eastern horizon a few minutes later and cast its golden rays over the clearing on either side of the canyon, which spanned several hundred feet across. The rock face of the cliff opposite them remained hidden in shadow, refusing to reveal what lurked in the chasm below. The waterfall that they had heard in the darkness was roaring on their left, sparkling in the morning sun and throwing a small rainbow out into the air as it spilled into the chasm.

  “Rainbows are good luck, that’s what Memaw says,” Jason said as he nudged Jonathan.

  “A rainbow is simply the sunlight refracting as it goes through the water,” Ziegler said dryly.

  “Just thought I would lighten the mood,” Jason said as he stretched his back.

  “Superstitions get people killed in my line of work,” Ziegler explained. “Better to focus on the task at hand than pretend that a rainbow is there for our luck.”

  “This from the same guy who gave us a fireside sermon about Lysander?” Jason whispered to Jonathan, eliciting a smile and stifled laugh from both of them.

  Jonathan walked the twenty four yards to the edge of the cliff and slowly leaned forward to look down into the void. It was deeper than he had imagined. He could see the river at the bottom, but it was a long, long way down. He glanced at the side of the canyon around him and didn’t see any easy way of hiking to the bottom either. It was a good thing that he had gotten plenty of rest the night before. If they were going to scale the cliff face, then he was going to need all the strength he could muster.

  He turned away from the edge and returned to the camp to pack up his things.

  “We don’t have enough rope to get down the side,” Ziegler told him as if he had read the young warrior’s thoughts. “Pack your things as best you can and then we’ll cache them somewhere up here. We’ll use the rope for as long as we can, but…”

  Ziegler didn’t have to finish the sentence. Jonathan knew it was a dangerous climb. A dangerous climb assigned to them by a stranger in green robes who vanished before Ziegler and Jason had even seen him. Yet, here they all were, about to risk their lives on the word of some wizard who had taken Miranda.

  Jonathan didn’t see why they should risk their lives along with his. If he could get down by himself, retrieve the bow and find the writings, then there was no need for the other two to make the dangerous descent. “I could go down alone,” Jonathan offered. “I’m smaller and lighter than you are.”

  “And accustomed to scaling cliffs?” Ziegler pressed. “You said the stranger told you to find Lysander’s bow at the bottom. That is something many people have searched for, and none of them have ever returned. What makes you think you can do it alone?”

  “I braved the quags alone,” Jonathan shot back a bit harsher than he had meant to.

  Captain Ziegler didn’t let the tone ruffle him. He smiled and shook his head. “I’m pretty sure Miranda was with you,” he said.

  Jonathan nodded.

  “A couple others too,” Ziegler put in.

  Jonathan sighed as he recalled Sami and Rourke. As if the jab about Miranda hadn’t been enough, Ziegler had to bring up old guilt as well. Sami and Rourke had given their lives to follow him. Had it been worth it? He couldn’t say. If someone were to ask anyone in Holstead whether Jonathan was a hero, they would surely talk about the end of the Troll Wars, but from day to day, they didn’t act as though it was anything significant. It was as if any person could have slain the troll king, but it had just happened to be Jonathan. So, if he wasn’t a true hero, then how could he ask the others to follow him into the canyon below?

  No, that wasn’t it.

  There was something else that bothered him about the situation. It wasn’t just the fact that Jonathan was the one to speak to the strange wizard, and it wasn’t even just the people back in Holstead. It was something else inside of him. Perhaps the itch he had, the thing always pushing him to find adventure. That itch had been what had planted the seed in him to join the army in the first place. Long before his brother was ever missing, he had wanted to fight the trolls. Now, for the first time, he realized that he fought through the swamps to find his brother, but had his brother never gone missing, he likely would have gone anyway, just for the adventure itself.

  Perhaps that was why Sami and Rourke’s deaths still stuck with him. They had come with him for his quest, but Jonathan would have gone there even without a quest. It was almost as if he had wasted their support, and their lives.

  “I know that look,” Ziegler said as he set down his pack and came closer to Jonathan. “There is something you need to know. Three things, actually.” Ziegler moved in and placed a hand on either shoulder and then
leaned in close to Jonathan. “The first is that people get used to being around greatness. The reason they throw parades for the king is because he stays in his palace most of the time and wields great power, so when he comes out, it’s like they can catch a glimpse of his greatness. However, with you, you are among the people all the time. After a while they remember that you are just a boy. If the king worked the fields and fought in wars and went to the market, the people would realize he is just a man. Still, no matter how the people at home treat you, it doesn’t mean that you aren’t great. What you have accomplished is the stuff of legends. You killed the troll king, not anyone else, and you were key to slaying the giant troll as well that came up afterwards. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

  Jonathan nodded. “You could tell how I was feeling from a look?” he asked. “I haven’t told anyone how I feel about it.”

  Ziegler smiled softly. “For one thing, I can see it in your eyes, and not just today. Through the entire journey I have seen you acting a bit off. You competed with Ruben right up until his death, which makes sense given your past with Miranda, but there was more to it than that, almost like you were trying to prove yourself to all of us again. I suppose I first noticed it at your home, though. When everyone was trying to leave you behind, and you did everything you could think of to fight and get yourself into the group.”

  Jonathan smiled and thought about the book that Miken from the Order of Anorit had given him. “Yeah, I suppose it was a bit of a stretch to try and convince you to let me go just on the basis of me knowing about Wyrebins.”

  “It was hilarious,” Ziegler commented. “I could have just taken the book from you.”