Wind Rider (Return of the Dragons 2)

Elias and Cullen put down their bags and began picking mushrooms and stuffing their mouths with them. Karsten, laughing, followed suit. It was good to see Karsten laugh. I idly touched my hand to sword hilt, and the image of Carolina came to mind. Eat now, Anders, with the others. The road is not long, but it is hard, and you may have to fight your way along it.

I dropped my hand from the sword and Carolina faded from my view, smiling at me. I saw Kara looking at me.

“What counsel does your pixie give you?”

“To eat now, while we can, for the road is not long, but difficult, and we may have to fight along it.”

Kara nodded, and bent down to pick up some mushrooms. She handed two to me. “Good advice.” She bit into a mouthful, and chewed, swallowed. “They taste like berries and nuts put together.”

I took the mushrooms and ate them. I bent down to pick several more, then looked over at Kara and Woltan, who were busy picking mushrooms. “Is this the road then, of which the map speaks?”

Kara nodded. “It’s going the right way. And it’s very old.” She pointed one way down the path. “This way leads Southeast to our country, the land of the Kriek. That way leads northwest around the dark lord’s mountain to the glass palace, and beyond, to the ocean and the merpeople. I think you may have to travel this path again soon.”

“Won’t I be able to make a portal?”

Kara shook here head. “Not with your uncle’s eyes on you. And we can’t make a portal somewhere where there are no Kriek, and to a place we’ve never seen.”

Then we were walking Southeast, on the path, picking mushrooms as we walked. The road was narrow, perhaps three or four feet across, but at least there were no trees on it.

We came to the end of the mushrooms and began to walk faster, still chewing on the mushrooms we had picked.

For some reason, maybe the walking, the fresh air or the food, I felt better than I had in weeks. The air was still chilly but the sun filtered through the trees surrounding the path, warming my neck and arms.

It was another hour before we came to the river.

My legs had begun to feel sore, and when I looked at the others they looked weary as well. The river was shallow, and the smell of the water dried my throat. I had had nothing to drink since that morning.

Soon we all were sitting down except for Karsten, who gathered wood together to make a fire. Elias helped him assemble twigs to start it with. Soon we had amassed a formidable pile. I watched Kara knock two rocks together from her bag, and start the fire. Karsten took out a large metal pot from his bag, went and filled it with some water from the river. He propped it on rocks that he had arranged around the fire.

“The water is clear, but it’s safer to boil it. We’ll make soup, with some rolls I brought with me. We can drink the water too, once it cools.”

Then we all were throwing our leftover mushrooms into the pot, and Karsten added a few spices from some small pouches in his bag. The smell was sweet – my dry mouth started to water.

Woltan stood for a moment. “We rest here un

til we have eaten, and then cross this river and keep moving. Kara and I will scout it out, but it appears neither deep nor treacherous.”

Kara scowled. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

Woltan shrugged. “It would be easy with magic to divine the best path, but I would rather not. The dark lord will be looking for us.”

No one spoke for a while then until Cullen pulled out a small harmonica from his bag, and began to play, hesitantly, at first, and then with more assurance. Woltan frowned – maybe the noise worried him — but the others seemed to relax, and gradually I relaxed too. Then we were drinking hot soup out of little tin cups, dunking rolls into the soup. The rolls were good alone, but with the hot mushroom soup on and in them, they felt particularly wholesome — I felt a warm feeling in my stomach that moved out to my aching feet and legs.

Later I would remember that fire, remember the smell of the burning wood, the taste of the hard rolls gone soft from the fragrant soup. And the sound of the water roaring past, the cold air, the humidity, and the sound of one lone harmonica before it too fell silent, so Cullen the smith could take his fill.

Now though we were packing up — Woltan was already in the river, finding a path while Kara shouted directions and watched him from the shore.

He crossed in less than two minutes, walking slowly and carefully.

From the other side of the bank, he gestured us on. It was strange to not communicate with Woltan by magic, but I figured Woltan was trying to be extra cautious.

Cullen went next, holding his forge and his other supplies up high and dry. The water never went past his knees, so I figured he might not have bothered.

Then he slipped. He overbalanced – he was going to fall into the water, forge and all. But then he righted himself, and continued walking, a little more cautiously. When he arrived at the other side of the river, he waved us on as well.

Elias and Karsten crossed together — Elias slipped at the same point where the smith had; again I was sure he was going under, and I gasped, but Karsten’s hand was out in a flash. Then Karsten was slipping too, but they remained upright. A moment later they were walking again slowly, holding onto each other. When they reached the other side I let out my breath, and watched it appear in the cold air.

Kara squeezed my hand, and then she was moving across the river, more swiftly than the others, holding her bag, with the precious book, to her side. I watched her walk and tried to commit to memory every step she took. She reached the other side, and waved me on.