“I’m Kent,” Kent replied nervously, after Erika had spoken, his eyes wide with anxiety. He suddenly stammered out, “We don’t know where we are, and if we trespassed, we did not mean it. She’s right, we don’t know what’s happening here.”
The others remained quiet, staying rigidly in place. The ones without the pendants on continued to look dumbfounded, and appeared to be growing increasingly worried.
Only Derek did not look to be overly ruffled by the unexpected developments unfolding all around them, his eyes constantly roving among the warriors. From what Logan had come to know of Derek, he surmised that his disciplined companion was carefully assessing the warriors’ intentions. He wished that he could ask Derek what his initial impressions of them were.
Logan pondered some of the thoughts tugging more strongly upon his mind. He had found it very intriguing that the old stranger in the blue garments, clearly a native to this strange world, had spoken the language of Logan’s group without any difficulty. It was even more curious that these woodland warriors spoke Logan’s own tongue so fluently.
Logan was not about to believe that everyone within an entirely new world spoke his language. Something very strange was occurring.
He glanced down at the blue stone pendant, as comprehension advanced in his mind. Though he knew he was taking a risk, he felt that he had to alert his companions that had not yet donned the amulets. The exchange with the surrounding warriors was tenuous at best, and Logan wanted everyone to be able to answer if questioned.
“It’s something with the pendants,” he whispered to Janus, Derek, and Antonio. “Trust me.”
The others looked towards him with puzzlement. Even Derek’s brow furrowed at Logan’s words.
The warrior addressing them abruptly looked to Logan with a sharp gaze, before glancing back quickly to Erika. Logan froze in place, hoping that his whisper had not provoked the warrior.
The warrior then looked past all of them, towards a couple of warriors that had just emerged from the woods. The two were now standing directly opposite him, on the other side of the trapped group.
“They do not wield the dark magic,” one of the pair of emerging warriors proclaimed, holding out what appeared to be a large quartz crystal for all to see in his right hand. He stared intently at its glittering surface, before looking back up again. He nodded and continued in a confident tone. “I am sure of it. The woman is not a witch, and the men are not shamans. They do not use the dark magic.”
The first warrior that had addressed them, the one that clearly appeared to be the band’s leader, looked back to Logan’s group. His steely look echoed the unyielding tension in the air as he silently regarded them.
“Who are you? What are you doing in these woods?” he demanded. “Each of you, speak your answer.”
“I am Erika, and I do not know how I came to be here,” Erika answered, the first of the seven to venture a response.
“My name is Kent… McNeeley. And it is no different with me,” Kent stated nervously. “I have no idea where we are right now, or how we got here. I swear. That’s the truth.”
Logan and Mershad answered similarly, but when it came to the last three in their group, there was an uncomfortable pause. Janus, Antonio, and Derek looked both confused and incredulous.
A look of frustration quickly grew upon the leader’s face during the uneasy delay. He turned his attention back towards Erika, even as Logan whispered to the remaining three.
“Just tell them your name, and why we are here,” he urged.
The leader of the warriors whipped about, and riveted immediately upon Logan.
“They heard me as easily as you did. Why do they not answer me?” the warrior challenged Logan. “Tell your companions to answer. Your lives may depend on it. We will take no chances here.”
As if for emphasis, he raised up the axe gripped in his hand, his chiseled arm muscles flexing at the movement. Logan had little doubt as he watched the fluid movement that the warrior was well-seasoned with the deadly weapon.
Logan imagined the axe hurling forward in a flash, its blade embedding deep in the warrior’s intended target. He certainly did not want that gleaming axe-head to be lodged in his own flesh and bone.
“I don’t know, but I have an idea why they cannot answer you,” Logan replied quickly, trying to keep his timbre as respectful as he could. “They cannot understand you, as we can.”
He hoped against hope that the hard-looking warrior deemed his tone to be polite enough. He looked to the three without the pendants, his mind still very conscious of the sharp edge of the axe gripped in the warrior’s right hand.
There was no harm in answering the question that had been asked, and they were not in any position to bargain.
“Tell him your names. Answer him,” Logan insisted, looking to the other three. “Do you not understand him?”
Derek shook his head first, followed by Antonio and Janus.
“Not a word,” Derek confessed tersely. “I do not know how you are speaking with them. They don’t speak our language.”
“What did he say?” the leader of the warriors questioned Logan curtly, heightened agitation flowing within his words.
Logan looked back to the warrior, becoming more certain of his analysis. Derek had spoken loud enough to be easily heard by the leader, but it was quite apparent that the leader had not understood him.
“He doesn’t understand you, and he doesn’t understand why we can understand you,” Logan offered to the leader carefully, whose impassive expression did not change with the answer.
Derek then asked Logan in a low voice, “How do you understand him?”
“Put the pendants on,” Logan instructed him. He turned back towards the leader. “I think we can speak with you, because of these…”
He slowly brought up his right hand and fingered the blue stone resting upon his chest, lifting it up to display the object to the leader. The hardened warrior seemed to be further perplexed, and his eyes narrowed as he stared intently at the amulet. It was the most significant reaction yet that Logan had seen from the leader, and his interest in the pendant was very evident.
“I do not understand this. I understand you, the woman, and the other two. I see that all understand you when you speak. But you speak in our language. And these three do not understand us, and I do not understand their speech,” the figure said, his words outlining the confusing scenario.
The leader’s eyes flicked between the four wearing the pendants and the other three who were not. He seemed to be searching and studying them at the same time, his brow furrowing more in the intensity of his gaze.
“It must be some kind of magic, but they are not witches, shaman, or sorcerers. My vision is the same as that of Eagle Spirit. There is no dark magic here,” the second warrior that had emerged from behind Logan with a quartz crystal emphasized.
The lead warrior looked solemnly towards the crystal-bearing warrior, before quietly continuing in his scrutiny of Logan’s group. He regarded them for a few more minutes, which seemed like hours to Logan.
As if he came to the same understanding that Logan had reached, the leader stated at last, “Have them place the necklaces on. We will see if you speak truly.”
Logan passed on the directive from the warrior, with his own addendum. “Put your pendants on, but do it slowly.”
The others cooperated, and carefully donned their amulets, looking back to Logan, the warrior-leader, and all the others when they had done so.
“I will ask you again, who are you? Do you serve the Unifier?” the leader asked the trio.