Bite by bite, Orlon grew restless, angry with himself. Rather than as an avenue for further conversation, the apple led to nothing more than satisfying his hunger. He wanted to ask her about being a warrior, yet he just sat there, filling his gut. For some reason he was too nervous to speak to her. Taking a fourth bite, he admonished himself for being so silly—cowardly, told himself to go ahead and ask her. But when he turned to do so, she paused, the final bite of her half poised at her lips, cocked her ear away from him.
"Fairies?" she let the apple drop from her hand. "I’ve never had one of those before."
Orlon looked at her questioningly. The curious glint he registered in her wanting brown eyes creased his brow. He opened his mouth to speak…
"Stay here," she told him, "and do not look."
In quick response to her order, he did the first thing that came to mind, placing his hands over his eyes. And like a child, he split his fingers to peek. He watched Sharna rise to her feet, glance over her shoulder and the dreamy look on her face when she looked back confused him. She pulled off her shirt, revealing her firm breasts crested with hard, rose red nipples. His breath caught in his throat, deep down he felt…something he had never felt before. He closed his fingers.
"Come on, boys," she said, spinning around and starting back toward the Fairy pestered Party. "I’m willing."
Everyone froze. All eyes turned to the approaching woman. Not only did the "dance" cease, so did the "song". Even the Richtichtiares were caught speechless. Those warriors not involved—Shing and Grash—watched her calculatingly, wondering what she intended to do. Tarl grew stiff from top to bottom, and in-between, eyes so bugged they nearly fell out of their sockets. Mishto Sharpaine eyed her appraisingly, nervously shrugged her off as nothing special.
But Sharna did not notice them, having eyes only for the Fairies.
"She…she’s topless," Brucey gagged.
"Showing her breasts," Stanley Boobicans gagged.
"All naked like," Jonny Poo gagged.
"All for you," she said seductively. "Come on, boys. Let’s get it on."
"Eek!" they squealed in unison.
Thus began a "song and dance" routine of a different sort. Sharna chased the little winged men this way and that, grabbing at them with both hands. They proved just as skillful, if not more so, at dodging her as they were at dodging sword slashes and thrusts. While they did little more than a frantic squeal now and again, she repeatedly invited them to stop fleeing and "have some fun." They gagged at that.
"Let’s get out of here," Brucey finally squealed.
With a flit and a flutter, a swoop and a loop-the-loop, the Fairies dodged their ways around her until they were together, then fluttered north as fast as their wings could take them. Sharna gave one last valiant try at catching them—and her hand closed on Jonny Poo’s leg.
"Let go, let go, let go, let go, let go," the Fairy squealed, jerking his little leg and batting his moth wings into a brown blur.
The power of his struggle proved so great it pulled Sharna off balance. She stumbled, was forced to release him in order to flail her arms in hopes of catching her balance, which she did, just barely. Once secure in her stance, she straightened up and watched the trio wing their way north along the road.
"Shucks," she said, frowning at her missed opportunity, and she pulled her shirt back on.
"I thank you, Sharna," Shing said. "If you hadn’t arrived—"
"Yes, uh, uh, yes," Grash interrupted, twirling his mustache. "If you hadn’t arrived, those dastardly Fairies would have dealt our mission a terrible bow, wearing our warriors down, having their way with them and transforming those weak willed enough into…more Fairies."
"And I thank you all," the man Tarl had first seen being victimized by the Fairies crawled into the road, dragging a small plow behind him by a strap. "They had worn me down, were about to have their way with me, if you hadn’t distracted them."
"Who are you?" Shing said.
"I am Brak Dugan, wandering farmhand for hire," he said, struggling up to his feet and strapping the small plow to his back. "Who are you?"
"We," Grash stepped forward, cutting Shing’s response off, "are the Party, or more accurately what is left of it after a harrowing journey through this…this forest, brought together by Ty the Parson to protect the One on his quest to vanquish the evil Tibtarnitallimardarian who threatens all that is good and just in our world."
Brak Dugan frowned, blinked, smiled. "I will join you," he said. "It is the least I can do in repayment for saving me."
"Good," Shing said quickly. "I am sure Ty the Parson will appreciate your help in the matter. And speaking of Ty the Parson—"
"We have rested enough," Grash said. "The quest must continue."
With that, swords were sheathed and those victims of the Fairies tiredly made their way to Shing and Grash and the newcomer, Brak Dugan. Rae and Roxx, who had silent as ghosts watched the whole affair transpire from the field side of the road, joined them. Sharna joined them. Mishto started forward, paused and looked back at Tarl, still stiff top to bottom, and in-between, bugged eyes focused on Sharna. She cleared her throat once, twice…a loud third time. He blinked, looked at the Campfire Girl and joined her to join the others.
Grash looked at Shing, who looked to the heavens, and said, "Let us be off."
On the Party went down the road, quickly but not so much, as the victims of the Fairy assault were tuckered out. The march lasted fifteen feet, when Shing brought it to a halt, saying:
"Aren’t we forgetting something?"
They looked at him questioningly.
"Orlon," Tarl said, forefinger raised into the air.
They all looked back to see him where Sharna had left him, hands clasped over eyes.
"How could I, proclaimed guardian of the One, have been so absentminded?" Sharna said and silently admonished herself for letting her desire for Fairies overrun her duty to Orlon.
"Hey, Orlon," Tarl called. "We’re leaving, buddy."
Orlon dropped his hands, gave them a double-take. How did they get so far down the road? He looked where they had been standing, saw nothing out of the ordinary. What happened that made Sharna order him to cover his eyes? To his mind’s eye appeared the image of a shirtless Sharna when he peeked. He gulped, cheeks turning pink.
"Let’s go, Orlon," Sharna urged him.
He got up, hurried to them—her, and they started down the road.
"What did I miss?" he asked Sharna.
"A lot," Tarl said, but she silenced him with a glare and said, "I’ll tell you…later."
Something in the tone of her voice told him "later" would never come.
VI. Twin Rivers
In comparison to the breakneck speed they went through Dark Forest the pace they went down Eltrondale Road was slow. Orlon looked from Ty the Parson, a small figure standing at the top of a hill ahead, to those around him and knew it would take time to span the distance between them. He knew Ty the Parson would not be happy about that. But when he took in the weariness of some of the warriors he knew they could not travel any quicker.
Their weariness turned his mind to the event he missed. Once he covered his eyes all he had had to rely on was his ears, which considering how Sharna led him as far out of earshot as possible, did not offer him much. He heard Tarl’s scream, followed by strangely high pitched voices—and not much more. Clear in his memory was Shing’s exclamation followed by Sharna’s questioning repeat: "Fairies?" Frowning, he wondered what a "Fairy" was…