Sixty yards or so ahead, the white walled, thatched roofed building was long in length and two stories high, and each story was lined with windows. There was no sign on a pole to designate what business the owner or owners was in, but there was a man standing at the entrance. The man, rocking on his heels, hands in pockets, and the building’s overall look told the Midgets that this building was a hotel.
Into their minds returned tales of mad men calling for quests that ended up nowhere, and they both thought if Ty the Parson led them to the hotel…it was over.
With a hand white knuckled on the hilt of his newly acquired shortsword, Tarl scowled, inwardly cursing himself for beginning to think this might really be a world saving quest. His knuckles gradually regained their color, his lips eased into a noncommittal smile. Then again, he had been given the opportunity to live out a dream, to see some of the world, and if this hotel marked the end of the journey, at least they would have a comfortable place to spend the night.
His smile became committed with the thought of the plump pouch of gold he had won in the dice game with Jack, Carlo and Frank. That pouch guaranteed he would have a very comfortable room for the night. And he might even afford the same comfort for his best friend.
Orlon was caught in such a rush of emotions over the thought the hotel signified the quest’s end he felt sick at the stomach. Oh, he had had his doubts this journey was for real, but proven fact after fact since Ty the Parson arrived at his home that night had led him to believe it was for real more and more, until not long after the quest began he bought into its reality hook, line and sinker… He had even convinced himself the fate of the world rested on his shoulders, that he actually was "the One" Ty the Parson endlessly referred to him as being.
Thought of the results of his buying into being the One filled his heart with sorrow. As the One, decisions had been left up to him, and the one decision he had made that cost them dearly in lives was foremost in his mind. If he had chosen to go around Dark Forest instead of through it, all in the name of saving precious time, Jack, Carlo and Frank, and Crik-or would still be with them. He caught a sob in his throat. If he had made a different decision, Jujay would still be with him.
Again without forewarning, Ty the Parson waded into the sea of armor. The Party followed. Weaving this way and that, they trailed him down the road—right to the hotel! And the Parson stopped them, right before the gravel walkway that led to the hotel’s entrance and the man standing there.
Orlon and Tarl looked at each other, shrugged.
A moment passed.
Ty the Parson suddenly darted down the walkway, followed by the Party, stopping them right before the man.
The man was of medium height, thin but for a round belly, and dressed in fancifully collared and cuffed white shirt, red vest, green breeches and red shoes. His face was small, with big green eyes, hooked nose and thin lipped mouth. A horseshoe of gray touched black hair circled his head from big ear to big ear, a few strands draped over his bald crown. Hands in pockets, rocking on his heels, he watched them approach, and when they stopped before him, he eyed them over quickly.
"Room for you gents, and ladies," he said, smiling a big toothed smile. "Talbortale’s hotel is ready to serve."
"The warrior’s want of enemy blade in his flesh! The falling man grabs the dangling rope to save his life! Rooms are not our want. I, Ty, the Parson, and the Party have guided the One here in search of the Holy Pike," Ty the Parson said in a flail of limbs.
Orlon and Tarl, and the man gave him a double-take.
Tarl had mixed feelings, happy with the realization Ty the Parson’s statement meant the hotel did not mean the journey’s end, and dumbfounded to realize the quest was real.
Orlon’s feelings were mixed as well, even more so. He was both relieved and terrified that the quest was for real, and startled to think the weapon, holy as it was proclaimed to be, they sought would be found in a hotel of all places.
As for the man, his smile faltered. "Pike?" he said. "You mean that thing in the attic?"
Ty the Parson gave him a single nod.
"It’s yours," the man said, thumbing over a shoulder. "That is, if you—"
A buxom, blonde and naked woman bound out of the hotel, full lips puckered and arms opened wide. Her target: Orlon. Before Sharna had a chance to react, Tarl was in between the woman and his best friend, meeting her lips with a passionate kiss of his own. Her eyes bulged at this unexpected interruption, but her arms closed around him anyway. He wrapped his arms around her, and tasting her sweet kiss, he realized he had just done his part for the cause by protecting Orlon’s purity—and he was going to get a piece of action to boot.
"I’ll handle this," he said out the corner of his mouth and led her around the hotel.
Orlon watched them go, wide eyed.
Mishto watched them, too, a tear in her eye.
"—can get it," the man concluded.
With a twitch of his shoulders, Ty the Parson turned his head to look at Orlon, who met him eye to eye, and wondered what he wanted. Signaling with a finger wag for the Midget to follow, he entered the hotel. Orlon followed, Sharna close behind. All but Shibtarr followed. The tow-headed boy spat, gripped his spear in both hands and leaned against the wall to await their return.
Through the entrance they found themselves in a large room. A counter stood to the left, behind which was a closed door. In the center of the back wall was a doorway leading to the hotel’s first floor rooms, and a steep stairway along the wall led to a landing at the doorway that gave access to the second floor rooms. A row of five chairs stood in the room’s center, and it was at these Ty the Parson stopped.
He looked up, as did those behind him, to see a rope dangling from the center of the ceiling. It served as the "handle" to the attic door. With arms outstretched at his sides, he urged the Party and the brightly dressed man back a few steps, before stepping up onto the central chair. He stretched to his fullest length to reach the rope, his long fingers just inches short of its knotted end.
The man opened his mouth to speak…
A hop spanned the distance and Ty the Parson took hold of the rope—and he came down, splintering the chair and landing on his backside… He quickly scurried backward on hands and feet, dividing the Party and narrowly escaping the rapidly descending ladder to the attic. Its base crashed to the floor at the tips of his booted toes.
"I do have a stepladder for that," the man said, too late now, eyes on the chair’s remains.
Ty the Parson got to his feet, leapt onto the ladder and looked back at Orlon. "Come," he said and climbed up it.
Though his first thought was to obey the command, Orlon hesitated, eyes following the Parson up the ladder and into the attic. Within the attic was the first goal of their twofold quest—the Holy Pike—which was needed to insure success of the quest’s second goal. The weapon only he could wield to end the evil that threatened the world. Yet he did not move, hearing in his mind the brightly dressed man’s statement, "That is, if you can get it." What did he mean by that?
"Let’s go, Orlon," Sharna urged him forward with a hand on his back, "let’s go."
He stepped up to the ladder, eyes on the attic entrance, and he slowly started up it. Sharna was close behind him, and as space allowed one member of the Party after the next mounted the ladder, which creaked under the ever increasing weight. Orlon did his best not to let that sound worry him, keeping his mind focused on reaching the entrance.