The Hollow Grove: The Companions [Book 2]

[26] Sweetwater

Otis felt it best to always begin the day with tea if he could. He rolled out of his woolen blanket and rummaged through Kayla's backpack in search of her tea kit. He poured enough water for the lot of them into her pot and hung it over the burning hearth. He set his cup on the table and sat with steepled fingers resting his eyes until the pot rolled to a boil. He sprinkled some leaves in the cup and eventually puckered at its bitter taste. He let the smell transport him for just a moment, then held on to the metal cup for as long as he could stand it and let go at the last moment. There was comfort in the hot cup, but the cabin surrounding him did not have the same warm feel as the real one had. The cup was real, Otis decided, and that was something special. The Dwarf had not yet decided if he liked this whole idea of a pocket dimension. After another sip, he roused the rest of the group.

After a quiet morning meal, the companions led their steeds from the pocket dimension one-by-one. The stale, empty room was replaced by the clean forest wind and the smell of green trees and fine earth. Birds chirped and the sunlight gently baked their hair.

The Wizard, clad in her emerald robes, spoke the words, "Fanu Meficarum. Deya Malificarum." With her dark staff bearing the red crystal, she sealed shut the opening. Before leaping to Scout's back, she snapped her left hand shut and muttered a single word. The blackthorn staff vanished from sight.

They all saw the Wizard's new spell and pressed their faces into kind impressions.

Otis thought that the old Kayla wouldn't use magic unless it was needed, even if it was a small incantation such as that. The old Kayla? He thought. Is there a new Kayla among us, or is she evolving with this time and this place like the rest of us?

Wess cleared his throat. "Sure was nice to sleep in a warm cabin instead of a cold tent."

They nodded in agreement.

Otis took command. "I will ride up front this morn. Haygen...the rear." He patted Thûndar, then rested a hand on the handle of his runed warhammer. "I need not remind you that we may run across unwanted company."

The Kudaki spread into a single column and began the day's journey to Sweetwater. The trade road north was narrow, but wide enough for a two-horse wagon. Wess followed Otis, who was followed by Kayla, followed by Anyu who held one hand on her rope reign and one on the grip of her new bow.

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Near midday, Otis' ears perked up as a pair of Thrush Hawks were kicked up not fifty feet in front of Otis. Their yellow wings in bright contrast to the green wideleaf cottonwood trees were a colorful warning. The Dwarf kept the small caravan moving, but a subtle pat on the flank of his Kudaki was a subtle hand signal to his Faeling friend. The signal was passed down the line to Haygen, but there were only slight movements of recognition among the warriors, mainly the hand that did the signal was placed near a weapon.

The Dwarf kept his Kudaki moving and before approaching the disturbed area gave an announcement. He didn't know where the highwaymen were, only that they were trying to decide whether or not to spring their trap.

Otis cleared his throat and pressed his dark beard flat. "I be Otis, son of Otahn, and thirsty I am. Yes. Thirsty for the mead I smell sure as day from the inn not afar. But I'm more than happy to drink the blood of mine enemies to hold me over until then."

There was rustling in the trees to the east and to the west.

"Anyone want to fill this Dwarf's cup?" Otis continued. He made no move to his hammer, nor to his shield. He kept his gaze wide and his steed moving its methodical walk. The Kudaki sunk a bit lower and Otis could feel its muscles tightening. Then, from behind him, a deep cry for war and battle came. Otis knew only one thing that could make that hollow, chilling sound—Haygen the Wanted.