December 2006

(Note:  This is not official version and may be removed in the near future.  This do not reflect what is read in the podcast version, nor any other version you may encounter.  I have preserved the rough form for posterity — or something like that.  This novel has since been rewritten.) “What’s going on Pea?” James said. A few lanterns had been lit and Pea had cast a spell on a nearby vase that made it shine brightly in the room. Screams still rained in from the streets as people argued amongst themselves as to the nature of the sudden darkness and the earthquake. “I’m not entirely sure James.” Pea’s eyes didn’t meet his. “Is this to do with me?” Then Pea looked up at him and said, “Oh, no, I don’t think so.” He didn’t believe it. There had been too much of a hesitation in Pea’s voice. No, he knew that, whether directly or indirectly, the recent events involved him. Then the confused expression on Gammon’s face reminded him that the man only knew the lies that Pea had told at the gate. “I’m not who you think I am.” Gammon looked at him, brow curled questioningly. “Go on.” “I come from, well, another world.” Gammon breathed in deep as if ready to laugh, but stopped stiff when Pea gave him a stern look. “Pea, if this is some sort of joke…” “It’s not. Triska checked him. She’s up with the High Council.” Then Gammon turned to James. James looked away for a moment, and then returned the gaze. This is going to take some getting used to, he thought. Having seen Pea and Triska give him that same look, he had come to realize that it would be a common sight. “I don’t believe it…I mean, how?” “Some sort of old magic,” Pea said. Then James interrupted. “I came here looking for my friend. She was pulled in the same way. Only she may be in the hands of Luthien.” “Are you marked?” “Yes.” Then Gammon spoke to Pea hurriedly, “He can’t stay here! He will bring Luthien down on us all.” “Luthien would have to cross the Firing Rim and travel quite some distance to get here.” “Arlin City would hear about it long before they reached edge of the valley,” James said. “Right. Not to mention, unless he plans to conquer the Farthland and use its resources, his army would starve or break apart bit by bit. We’d likely stop him before he reached Arlin, or at least stall his army long enough to move James to a safer place, and, well, without proper planning he hasn’t much chance at the moment of getting here. Not for six months or more and not with a sizeable army.” “That doesn’t stop his assassins, spies, and the like from reaching this far into the Farthland.” Gammon’s concern began to spread through to James. He hadn’t considered the other methods Luthien might have to reach him. “He won’t kill me. For whatever reason he wants me alive.” The three of them stayed silent. James thought hard, feeling the Fearl pushing at his mind in a gentle throb. It seemed to calm him just enough to clear his head. With all that had been happening, his mind had become cluttered. Everything from what he had learned from the book Pea had given him, to the previous and current events seemed to build up in a tremendous mental tower blocking his thoughts. Home slowly slid away as he became more and more aware of what he would have to do to save Laura—if he could save her. That doubt came and went within him, yet he continued to push it back, unwilling to accept that he might not bring her home. He wondered what his parents were doing in his absence, imagined them frantically trying to figure out how to get him home. Then he remembered the man he, no, his Fearl had thrown into the trees in order to protect him. He couldn’t be sure if the man had lived or not. The man’s death would have made things horrible for his parents. A knock at the door broke the silence. Pea stood and went to the door. A few moments of arguing—in which Pea seemed to give in—Pea returned to the curtained room with Darl in tow. James sighed deeply and rolled his eyes ever so slightly so that Darl would have had to concentrate to see the motion. This he did not because of Darl, but rather that the man’s presence might mean he would have to explain himself and endure another long stare of bewilderment and awe. But Darl caught him and said, “I see rudeness never fails.” “I think in this instance,” Pea started, “James has deeper intentions than rudeness.” Darl’s eyes brightened. “And what might those be?” “I’m getting tired of this,” he said. “Every one of you has given me the same look. That piercing look. It digs into me like a tick.” Then Pea showed Darl to a seat, and in one long winded sentence managed to tell a brief version of James’ story. And, as James had anticipated, Darl’s face frowned and the look centered square into him. “Surprising, isn’t it?” Gammon said. “To think that this would happen now, here.” “To think I only came to speak with Triska, and instead receive the shock of a lifetime. Darkness and people from other worlds. What next? Lyphons?” Three was a long, steady silence. James spotted Pea’s face as it turned pale as the moon had once been. Then he said, “Pea mentioned that very word earlier…” The group all eyed Pea, who seemed to fold under the pressure instantaneously, but just as the little man opened his mouth to speak the door burst wide open with a thunderous boom. Four armor clad soldiers—the same armor as Gammon, only one had a red streak of metal running on both sides of

(Note:  This is not official version and may be removed in the near future.  This do not reflect what is read in the podcast version, nor any other version you may encounter.  I have preserved the rough form for posterity — or something like that.  This novel has since been rewritten.) Triska, now awake and alert, had prepared a breakfast of sausages, bacon, fresh berries, scrambled chicken eggs, and boiled Fidget Fowl eggs. James ate gratefully, half choking as he wolfed down a meal for two in a matter of minutes. One of the qualities he most admired about Triska in his short time of knowing her was her ability to cook; the other was her warm demeanor. He wiped his face clean as Triska began to talk. “You two head on down to Market Street,” Triska said. “Darl should be in his usual spot. Tell him I sent you.” “Should we tell him the truth?” Pea said. Triska shook her head. “No, not now at least. Here,” she stood, left the room, and returned with a small wood box with a green weave of lace embedded in the lid. “Show this to him. He’ll understand.” James took the box and thought to look inside, but decided against it when Pea gave him a look. The box was just longer than the palm of his hand, the wood old and faded, and it weighed practically nothing, putting no strain whatsoever on his wrist. Empty, he thought. “What about the High Council?” Pea mumbled amidst a mouth-full of food. Triska took in a deep breath. “I’ll go to Nora…” “That’s the head of the Healers,” Pea leaned close to James and whispered matter-of-factly. “She’ll know what to do. I’ll get tested again of course.” She frowned, but didn’t explain. From the upset look on her face James could only assume that being tested meant a situation of extreme discomfort. He thought about the times he had been given shots at the doctor’s office, or been harassed by the dentist over his lack of flossing. He could easily sympathize. The room stayed silent for a moment except for Pea who smacked his lips and chewed his way into a third helping—from a Littlekind’s perspective. James began to think of the journey he would have to take: a long arduous journey through unfamiliar terrain amongst enemies and people who would just as soon see him dead. That’s if they left me. What is the High Council going to say? Teirlin’pur must be far, dangerous, and…if Luthien is after me, why go there? And why does he want me, and Laura? These questions and thoughts circled in his mind. No answers came, just the gentle nudge of the Fearl, now a firm entity in the back of his mind that seemed to quiver in an attempt to calm him. He shared some sort of symbiotic relationship with the Fearl; that being the only way he could think to describe it. It had protected him once, and, oddly, it seemed to care—if such a thing were possible—about the things going on in his mind. “Pea, I’m trusting you to take care of him. Is that understood?” “Of course.” “Keep him out of trouble; don’t let him do anything stupid…” “It’s a little late for that. He almost got killed by a gryphon last night. Tagron to be specific. Nasty one he is too. I think of all the gryphons I’ve met he has the worst attitude.” “Just, do your best.” “I will.” With that Triska left the table and disappeared into another room. Pea stood. “Alright, now you stay right next to me. No wandering.” James stood. “I’m not a child.” Pea scoffed at that. “On this world you are.” With that Pea motioned for James to follow and together they left Triska’s home. The sun, now completely above the distant mountains, filtered through the clouds in sharp rays illuminating the other business, homes, and people who walked along the path. Light chatter filled the air giving James the sense of a city waking. He looked around as Pea guided him down to the market, hoping he might see the gryphon Tagron. The gryphon had forgiven him, or maybe not. James couldn’t be sure. Despite the violence that had ensued the day before, Tagron had given him a warning, a word of advice even. He still didn’t understand what “look to the western sunrise” meant, but he took it all to heart, every word of it. There are ways into every city, he thought. Look to the western sunrise. Those words ran through his mind over and over. Then, as the two of them were about to turn the corner onto Market Street, James said, “How do you know if a gryphon has forgiven you?” Pea turned and curled his brow, then turned back. “Tagron spoke to me this morning.” “Oh?” “He sort of forgave me for my rudeness. I think.” “Was he short spoken about it?” He nodded. “Then you’re forgiven. Consider yourself lucky. Just don’t insult him again.” “He knows about me Pea.” Pea turned again to smile. “Why do you think we keep gryphons around? They have an uncanny ability to…” He paused for a long time, rubbing his chin. James saw the concentration in the little man’s face. “Well, they just seem to know things. I’m not sure how to explain it. It’s sort of like an instinct, only based in magic somehow. Does that make sense?” “It makes as much sense as the rest of the things in this world.” “Good.” Then together they walked into the market, now bustling wildly with all manners of people as it had the night before. Business owners yelled out deals to passersby while hagglers argued with business owners over the price of an item. Some put on shows; one used a Littlekind man as a gimmick. People crowded around the scene as the tiny man bounced around. James curled his lip in