“We will stop Kalak before he comes across the mountains,” Sadira added.
Nok considered the offer, then said, “I am still not certain that your gift is worthy of the Heartwood Spear, but we shall see.”
The chief turned to the halflings gathered behind him and spoke a few words in their own tongue. With crestfallen expressions, they set aside their wooden bowls and stepped around behind the Feast Stones to undo the lashings.
Once the four companions were free, Nok led the way toward the granite mound. The halflings in the area parted, jabbering to each other in peculiar, nasal words punctuated by birdlike shrieks and squeals. Nok paid them no attention until he stood at the tree itself, when he silenced them with a harsh command.
With the meadow quiet, Nok cradled Ktandeo’s cane in one arm, then opened his other hand and touched the oak. He spoke a few phrases in his own language. The tree’s boughs shuddered, and Nok’s fingers melded into the bark. Slowly he pushed his hand deeper, until his arm had disappeared clear to the shoulder.
Nok closed his eyes and stood next to the oak in silence. His lips were tense and turned down at the ends, giving him a stoic and slightly remorseful expression. He remained perfectly still. Sadira wondered if he was having second thoughts. At last, the chief opened his eyes, then looked at the tree and spoke to it in a conciliatory tone.
Another shudder ran through the oak’s boughs, and a terrible, sonorous creak sounded from its core. Leaves began to rain down on the people below. To Sadira it seemed that the bark paled to a lighter shade of gray. Nok slowly stepped away, pulling his arm from the tree as he retreated.
In his hand, the halfling held a thick spear colored deepest burgundy. The shaft tapered to sharp points on both ends, with a grain so fine it was hardly visible. Sadira thought at first that the weapon pulsated with magical energy, but when she looked directly at it, the impression faded. It seemed no more than a normal, finely crafted weapon.
Nok stepped away from the oak, sending a few halflings to fetch the party’s belongings. Motioning for his prisoner to follow, he led the way to a small trail winding into the gloomy depths of the forest. As they traveled along the path, Sadira realized the halflings had carried her and her companions a considerable distance from where she and Agis had fallen. In addition to the dancing conifers and bulb-trunked fronds, the trail was lined by immense, slanting hardwoods. These trees had waxy, ruby-colored leaves and ripe, sweet-smelling fruits with the shape of daggers and the color of sapphires. The constant drone of insects underscored the shrill whistles and chirps of the jungle birds, and the shadows were so thick that, at times, Sadira felt as though she were walking through UnderTyr. Presently, the rumble of a nearby river began to drown out the sound of the insects and birds.
At last they stepped out of the forest. Before them, a narrow suspension bridge spanned a rocky gorge so wide that Rikus could not have thrown his axe across it. The bridge was made of flowering vines woven together to form a V-shaped channel. A densely braided cord of the woody plants served as the walkway, two smaller cords as handrails, and a plethora of bud-covered vines as netlike walls. A round boulder blocked the other end, so it was impossible to tell if the trail continued on the other side of the canyon. The whole scene had an eerie red hue, for the setting sun hung in line with the gorge, bathing it in fiery light.
Nok stopped at the edge of the bridge. Without putting down Ktandeo’s cane, he hefted the Heartwood Spear and threw it. A concerned cry escaped Sadira’s lips, but the spear sailed across the gap as though borne on a cushion of air. It sank half its length into the trunk of a ruby-leaved tree growing behind the boulder on the other end of the bridge.
Nok faced the four companions and used Ktandeo’s cane to gesture across the gorge. “There is the spear you seek. To prove you are worthy of it, you must pull it from the tree.”
After studying the bridge, Rikus said, “This thing doesn’t look sturdy to me. Maybe we should go across one at a time.”
Agis shook his head. “I don’t think so. There’s more to this test than crossing a bridge cautiously,” he said. “Kalak is surrounded by guards every bit as powerful as you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he or some of his people are masters of both the Way and magic. To defeat him, we’re going to have to work together.”
“Four people can’t throw a spear,” Rikus countered.
“True,” Sadira said. “But the spear won’t strike unless we coordinate our efforts to overcome Kalak’s defenses. I think Agis is right-Nok is testing our ability to work together.”
The mul cast a wary eye at the vine bridge, then nodded and looked down at the halfling chief. “We need our weapons and some rope,” he said, gesturing at the warrors who had brought their property along.
“Rope, you can have,” Nok said. “You won’t need weapons.”
Rikus looked doubtful, but accepted the rope without protest. “I’ll lead the way,” he said, tying one end of the line around his waist and passing the other to Sadira. “Sadira and Agis will follow, and Neeva will bring up the rear.”
“Rikus, I’m hardly vulnerable, and it might be best to have my skills in front,” Agis said, stepping forward. “I’ll lead.”
Sadira caught the noble’s arm, afraid that the discussion would deteriorate into an argument. “Rikus is right. If you’re in the middle, you can protect us all. If you’re in front, it’ll be impossible for you to protect us against an attack from the rear.”
Reluctant, Agis nodded, then stepped back into line. Once the four companions had all tied themselves into place, Rikus led the way onto the bridge. Sadira followed next, with Agis and Neeva behind her. They moved slowly and carefully, holding onto the handcords and keeping a careful eye on the braided vines beneath their feet. Though the bridge swayed and rocked with each step, it showed no sign of coming apart under their weight.
They were about a third of the way across when Rikus suddenly stopped. He stared at the walkway, gripping the handcords so tightly that his knuckles were white.
“What’s wrong?”
No sooner had Agis asked the question than they all saw why Rikus had halted. The vines were writhing and twisting at his feet, regrowing in a different pattern before their eyes. The bridge wasn’t coming apart; it was reforming itself into two separate pathways, each running in a slightly different direction.
Without releasing the handcords, Rikus took a tentative step. His foot sank through the writhing mass of vines. Only his secure grip saved him from plummeting into the river that snaked like a line far below.
“Don’t move!” Agis cried “The bridge isn’t changing. It’s a psionic illusion!”
“Where is it coming from?” Sadira asked, looking over her shoulder.
She did not need to finish the question, for the noble was already facing Nok. The two men had locked gazes and were staring at each other like gladiators in a death match. Agis gripped the handcord with tightly closed fists, but his legs trembled and lines of persperation ran down his neck. On the other side of the noble, Neeva stared at her feet in horror.
Sadira looked down. There were three separate bridges beneath her feet. “Don’t turn around, Rikus. Neeva, when I say to, cover Agis’s eyes and close your own.”
Plucking a handful of flower buds off the vines forming the wall, the sorceress pointed a hand toward the forest behind Nok to summon the energy for a spell. She had hardly opened her palm before she felt the incredible power from the massive trees rush into her body. For the first time in her life, she found it necessary to close her fist and cut off the flow of energy before it overwhelmed her.
Pushing aside her shock, she cried, “Now, Neeva!”
The gladiator cover Agis’s face with a hand and shut her own eyes. Sadira tossed the buds at Nok and spoke the incantation that would shape her magic.