"That," Shing said, "is no way to get rid of a Grumpling."
Marcol looked at him questioningly.
That was when it happened! The Richtichtiare halves twitched, drawing everyone’s attention to them. And right before their eyes the halves began to each grow another half. The ordeal was both fascinating and sickening to witness…. In a short time that seemed much longer there before them was not one but two Rictichtiares. Marcol silently cursed his shortsword, slamming it home into its scabbard.
"Your youthful education must have been tough on your parents," one Richtichtiare sneered.
"Not hard to believe," the other Richtichtiare said and cocked his head, crossed his eyes, "considering how special he is, if you know what I mean."
The mercenary pressed his hands to his ears.
Orlon thought about where they ran into the Grumpling, tied up and gagged in the old Winslo place. He half smiled. That must be, he presumed, a right way to get rid of one.
"The sleeping flower opens its pedals at first light of day! Water poured on flat stone! Our journey must enter the light, spread rapidly over the land," Ty the Parson said in a flail of limbs, and he slipped through the exit into the sunlight beyond.
Shing followed.
V. Fairies
There was no one more eager to get out of Dark Forest, aside from Tarl Bimbo, than Orlon. He was grateful to be so close to the exit when Ty the Parson made his verbose proclamation and went through it, Shing close behind. He started to follow… Tarftenrott and Roxx hurried by him to exit the forest. A frown creased his brow, and he started again… Expendendale and Rae hurried by him and out of the forest. Again, he started… Chitintiare and Telluspett hurried by and out. Again, he started… Grash and Marcol, followed by the twin Grumplings, went through the exit.
Fists on hips, Orlon watched after them, wondering whatever happened to the "protect the One" line he had heard so often. The desperate need to leave the forest overrode his wondering, and with a huff, he started yet again…
"Excuse us, buddy," Tarl, with Mishto Sharpaine in tow, edged by him and out of the forest.
Orlon watched them go and looked to the heavens.
"Let’s go," Sharna said, urging him through the exit and following close behind.
The feel of sunlight put a smile on his face. He breathed deeply of the fresh air, so happy to be free of the forest’s stuffiness. He looked up at the blue sky, a small cloud scudding by, and his smile broadened. And there was the silence! Other than the whoosh of a passing breeze that ruffled his hair it was…quiet. They had made it through a nightmare journey and found the other side of the forest a nice and pleasant place to be.
They had made it to—he frowned—where? He looked at the Party standing nearby, relaxing after their ordeal. He looked directly down to find he stood on a road, looked both ways not once but twice. The road ran north and south. He knelt and scooped up a handful of dirt, let it slip through his fingers. That there was a road here was unbelievable to him, until he remembered Ty the Parson had given him the choice of following the road around Dark Forest. But was this still Dwarf Road?
"Eltrondale Road."
Surprised, Orlon looked up to find Tarl standing beside him, hands stuffed in pockets, a smile on his plump face. He gave his best friend a questioning look.
"I’ve been talking around," Tarl admitted with a shrug.
"The corner to the fighter when the bell rings! The point man sent ahead by a squad’s leader! The journey through the forest was wearying on us all. Hurry, refresh yourselves. As you do, I, Ty, the Parson, will scout ahead," Ty the Parson said, limbs flailing.
Orlon watched him hurry down the road. "I wonder where it goes," he said offhandedly.
"So do I," Tarl said, and a big smile creased his face as he added: "And we’ll soon find out, too, buddy o' mine."
Orlon gave him a double-take. Then he felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. His best friend was not only right, but excited as well, and with good reason. This trip—this quest had given him the chance to do what he boasted about doing forever, breaking free of Dwarf Road and seeing what was out there. Further, it had gone, and would be going, much further than Tarl thought… He gulped. He just hoped Tarl was ready for what awaited them at its end.
"That we will," he said nonchalantly.
A loud, strangely feminine squeal drew everyone bolt upright. To a man, and woman, the warriors lay hands on hilts, and all looked to Dark Forest. Nothing moved, no other sound was heard. With a nervous giggle here, a snicker there, the warriors relaxed. That left Orlon, Tarl, Mishto and Roxx to feel uneasy about this queer event.
Tarl blurted a laugh. "I’ve always been afraid of that forest," he said, "and now that I’ve been through it…I’m still afraid of it." He shook his head. "And I guess I’m not the only one. Just look how we reacted to—to whatever that was."
There was a definite undertone of dislike for his last statement amongst the warriors.
"We paid a pretty price to get through Dark Forest," Orlon said sadly.
"That we did," Tarl agreed. "I’m sorry about Jujay, buddy."
"Thank you," Orlon said. "But we lost so much more. Carlo, Jack, Crik-or, Frank…"
Hearing the names of his recently acquired, and lost, companions put a frown on Tarl’s face. "I’ve been wondering about that," he said. "What happened to Jack, Carlo and Frank? Well, I know Carlo was killed by that—that forest creature—"
Orlon thought of the tired, sweaty expression he saw on Carlo’s face.
"—but the way Jack and Frank died," Tarl went on, shivering at the memory of it. "That couldn’t've been caused by the forest, could it?"
"Hardly," Grash said with a dramatic twist of his handlebar mustache.
"What then?" Tarl asked.
"What happened to those…fellows is what happens to anyone who catches a Campfire Girl at the wrong time of the month."
A frown touched Tarl’s features. He looked from the old warrior to Mishto, who smiled meekly, cheeks pink, and back again. Through his mind flashed the events of the night before. The dice game with the fancily dressed trio, where he had the best luck he had had in months, turning four silver coins into a hefty pouch of gold coins, the foreplay games, after coins exchanged, with Mishto that followed, and the…activities after…. If there was one thing he was definitely certain of, it was that last night was not that time of the month for her.
"I don’t understand," he said.
"It is simply," Grash said. "You see—"
"Let’s sit over here," Sharna said, urging Orlon toward the field side of the road.
Orlon did not appreciate being taken away before he heard the old warrior’s answer, yet he could not resist her.
"Tell me about your farm," she said in hopes of drowning out anything Grash might say that could damage the One’s purity,
"—if you play the game at the wrong time you’ve had it."
Confused, Tarl looked to Mishto. Her pink cheeks turned crimson.
"What?" he brought his eyes back to Grash.
"It is well known—" Grash looked the Midget up and down, sniffed "—at least to those of us experienced in the military trade, that over the years, with the amount of…services Campfire Girls perform with so many different men, they have developed a period, if you will, each month when they emit innumerable diseases to any customers they deal with."
Tarl’s face went blank, and it slowly sunk in. "Ah, nuts," he blurted and looked at Mishto.