Where's the ship? he wondered incredulously as he gazed out over the precipice he was standing on.
Below him, the Sea of Mist was gone, replaced by a lush valley filled with green bushes and tall trees. Brightly colored flowers covered bushes and vines throughout the forest, and trees towered nearly two hundred feet into the cerulean sky. Small houses with thatched roofs occupied the upper quarter of the trees, forming an arboreal village connected by rope vines.
Several of the houses were now in flames.
Even as Praz watched a dozen elves rim across one of the suspended bridges, a great shadow flew through the trees and a blast of fiery breath ignited the end of the bridge. Flames coiled along the bridge, burning through it in seconds and elves fell to their deaths.
Praz's eyes went wide.
A Dragon!
The dragon's form was unmistakable. It was at least seventy feet long, a serpentine shape with the heavy back legs of a rabbit and tiny forelegs that couldn't ever have possibly held its weight. Gold and green scales sparkled in the sunlight as it flapped its bat-like wings and flew skyward.
Praz stared at the thing in awe. He had had no doubt that the creatures existed, but they hadn't been seen anywhere in the Six Shards in generations.
Dragon fear held him where he was for a moment, and he searched the skies looking for where it had gone. Then something blocked out the sun behind him and Praz turned around.
He watched in disbelief as high above, the dragon spotted him and shrieked. It turned to attack, diving faster than anything Praz had ever seen, its jaws opening wide. Move! his brain screamed, but the sight was too incredible.
Fire dawned in the dragon's throat. It was so close. Then—
Something crashed into Praz, knocking him from his feet and over the precipice.
Praz retained enough presence of mind to hang on to his shield and sword as he tumbled head over heels down the steep slant. He heard a shriek and a wave of heat washed over him.
Saplings and brush tore at Praz's clothing and his face, leaving long scratches and welts. He came to a stop facedown, aching all over, and slowly pushed himself to his feet.
Brush rustled behind the young warrior and he turned to spot a red-bearded dwarf in full battle armor coming at him. The dwarf's armor showed signs of hard use. Mud—some of it fresh and some of it dried in the creases—coated the dark gray and gold plate. He carried a battle-axe in both hands.
"What in hell do ye think ye're a-doin'?" the dwarf bellowed, his dark green eyes flashing. "Ye looked about as smart as a field mouse, ye did! If I hadn't come along when I did, ye'd a-been in that wyrm's gullet."
Praz looked around, still in awe.
The dwarf hit him hard in the arm. "C'mon, boy," he growled. "Let's get us some cover."
Praz hesitated, watching the dwarf run along the valley side.
The dwarf looked back. "What's wrong with ye?"
"You know about the Sea of Mist?" Praz asked, feeling totally lost and out of place.
"The Mist?" the dwarf said irritably. "It's a foul and pestilent thing, and a frequent visitor to these lands."
"I was in the Mist," Praz said. "The Sea of Mist. I think it brought me here."
"I've heard of such things," the dwarf admitted, "though they're far and few between. But you ain't a-gonna do nobody no good if ye keep standin' there."
"If I leave this spot," Praz said, "I may never make it back."
The dwarf glanced deliberately back around the trees and brush. "Ye get dead, ye ain't gonna make it back nowhere. And what's more, the Mist ain't up here no more. It wants ye to go back to where ye were, it'll find ye and put ye there. Now come along!"
Praz was about to ask another question when a wolf pack exploded out of the brush and attacked.
The wolves were gaunt and covered in gray fur, but they stood nearly waist-tall to Praz.
The sudden attack startled him. He caught the lead wolf's charge against his shield, then turned into it quickly and chopped the beast's head off. Blood spattered the young warrior's face and he tasted salt even as he whipped his head around.
The dwarf had already cut his sword into two wolves, which dropped dead at his feet. Another wolf leaped toward the dwarf from the hill, taking advantage of the higher ground.
Reacting swiftly, Praz dropped his sword and threw out his hand. Power coursed down his arm and left his fingers in a cold shimmer.
The spell caught the wolf only inches from the dwarf's face, as the shimmer spread across the wolf like a glaze. In the blink of an eye, the wolf turned to ice and his body dropped fast to the ground and smashed to pieces.
Praz could still feel the power shaking his arms. Gods, Yve never felt so much power before.
He glanced down at his hands. Magic coursed through him more strongly than he'd ever experienced. He felt like it was ready to burst free.
The dwarf pushed himself to his feet. "Gods' blood, boy, I didn't expect that. Thought the damn thing had me.
"I'm Clancy," he said, "and I'll thank ye proper for savin' me life." He stuck his hand out.
Praz took the dwarf's callused hand, clasping the arm as they shook. "I'm Praz," he said, "Praz-El."
The dwarf's complexion suddenly turned white.
"Praz-El? Well, by the Light, boy, what in hell are ye doing here!"
25
Cold realization flooded through Praz.
The dwarf knew him. But the young warrior's memories from the time he'd been with Mistress were very clear. He remembered the face of every person he'd ever met, and he knew if the dwarf had met him, it had been before Mistress had taken him to train. It had to be.
"You know me?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Sure, I know ye," Clancy grumbled. He grabbed Praz by the elbow and hustled him into motion. "I used to sit ye on my lap, I did. But what are ye doin' here?"
"Where? Where are we?" Praz asked. He stumbled, struggling to comprehend everything that was going on, and followed the dwarf farther into the valley.
Clancy shook his head worriedly. "Ye shouldn't be here," he said, looking around to make sure they were safe.
"But where am!?"Praz asked.
"Don't ye be a-worryin' about that," Clancy answered, taking up a defensive position behind a thick-boled tree, as goblin war parties combed the steep sides of the valley.
"Ye need to figure on how ye're gonna get back is what ye need to do."
"It was the Mist," Praz argued. "I don't know how to get back."
Praz gazed around at the valley. There were swamps and dragons and fires everywhere. Is this my home? He felt the magic resonate within him more strongly than he'd ever felt it.
What was causing that?
"Well, get back ye must," Clancy snapped. "Look at ye, boy Someone might recognize ye. An' yer name ... gods above, boy, ain't nobody got a name like that. Named after that she-bitch demon, ye were."
"You know her?" Praz asked.
Clancy squinted up at him. "Sure I do, ye fool. It be none other than Nymus herself."
Nymus! A wave of exultation filled Praz. Now he knew her name. It was Nymus.
"How do you know her?"
"Oh," the dwarf replied, "me an' Nymus go way back."
"Why was I given to Nymus?" Praz asked.
"To hide ye, boy!" Clancy said as if the answer was elementary. "There's them what will kill ye if'n they get a chance to do it. Ye were sent away by yer ma fer yer own protection."
"Protection?" Praz said. "Protection from what?"
Clancy looked at him in disbelief. "Ye mean ye don't know nothin'?"
"My mother?" Praz gasped. "Who was she? Why was I protected? What am I supposed to..."
The dwarf clapped a callused hand over Praz's mouth. "Keep yer yap shut," he whispered, "if'n ye'd keep yer head on yer shoulders."
Praz chafed but remained still as a goblin patrol plunged through the brush less than ten feet from their position.
Thankfully, they weren't seen.
Clancy pushed Praz away and faced him squarely. "Now ye mind me and mind me quick, boy," he whispered. "Ye best get yerself on back to wherever it were ye come from."
Praz raised his arms.
"I don't know how to get back."
"Use that magic ye got," Clancy insisted. "Ye got that from both sides of yer family, ye did. But ye can't stay here. Why, there's trolls out there what's been trackin' yer scent across worlds when they've been able. I heard tell a brace of 'em even give ol' Nymus some botheration a while back." "No," Praz replied.
"Eh," Clancy said, narrowing his eyes. "Now get going before ye're found."
"No," Praz said, holding up his sword in desperation. "You have to tell me what this is all about. Who am I? Why am I being tracked? Why am I here?"
Clancy looked at the sword.
"Ye mean to threaten me, boy?"
Guilt flushed through Praz. The little man had saved his life, and from the way he talked, perhaps he'd done even more in the past. But Praz didn't let himself give in to it. He couldn't afford to; not when he was this close to finding out about his past—his future. He held the sword where it was.
Clancy just shook his head, staring from Praz to the weapon.
"I tell ye," he went on, "I never thought I'd live to see this day. Maybe the apple never truly falls far from the tree like them ol' sages was always a-tellin' me. But no, I had to be thickheaded about it an' believe the likes of ye could make a difference in things. Put a little light on things."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Praz said. "But I'm tired of living in the dark. You have to tell me—"
"Don't be makin' no demands of me, boy," Clancy returned, waving his hands in the air. "I don't know the times I've risked me life for yers and yer ma's. After what she up an' done, maybe I shoulda just headed home. But I kept wantin' to believe. Don't be changing that now..."
A shadow swooped across the ground in the periphery of Praz's vision. It disappeared when it touched the shadow of the tree. A moment later, a rustle sounded in the branches above.
Praz glanced up and spotted a winged troll sitting there.
The creature was long and painfully thin, built like an arrow with arms and legs and bat's wings tacked on.
Clancy cursed vehemently.
The troll cried out an alarm.
Quick as lightning, Clancy reached to his waist and palmed a pair of throwing darts. The darts left the dwarf's fingers in glittering spins that thudded into the troll's neck, tearing through the soft flesh and driving up into its mouth and throat.
Blood erupted as the creature coughed and choked. The bat's wings flapped energetically but couldn't maintain the troll's balance. It fell from its perch, banging down through the branches below.
More were coming, and Praz spotted at least a dozen running toward him at full-tilt. Almost at the same time, he saw the green fog snaking around the tree and twisting toward him again.
"They're on to us!" Clancy yelled. "Ye've got to get out of here—now!"
"But I have to know!" Praz yelled, sword ready for the trolls, staring at Clancy.
"I'm sorry," Clancy said, real emotion in his eyes, "but it will do ye more harm than good." And with that, without warning, Clancy charged into Praz—knocking him from his feet.
Praz rolled quickly and pushed himself back up to his feet, stumbling in his haste.
Clancy was staring behind him and Praz turned around. The green fog was upon him. He tried to step away, but the fog reached out and held him fast. Furious and desperate, the young warrior lunged at the dwarf, dropping his shield and trying to grab him.
Clancy bobbed back as Praz's fingertips skated across his armor.
"No!" Praz roared. "You can't do this to me. Please!"
Suddenly, he no longer felt solid ground beneath his feet, and the green fog filled Praz's vision just as the trolls swarmed over Clancy.
26
Noleta watched in mixed shock and horror as Alagar jumped in front of her and sliced the attacking osprey from the air.
Turning back, he looked at her and winked. "Just like old times," he smiled.
Noleta felt herself relax instantly and she smiled back.