The group stopped, hidden by the thick brush and trees, they watched the camp as the people hurried about their daily business. Young boys gathered wood while their mothers or fathers bent over the soon to be cook fires, cleaning out the ash and debris to make room for fresh wood. It was a lazy morning, evidenced by most of the merchants remaining closed. They were either sold out of items or made enough that it didn't bother them to start slow on their last day there. Galin commented that was unusual for any vendor; but it did indeed seem the most likely scenario.
The Dwarf's uneasiness settled on Gilliam's planning. Were they expected? Had Renard already captured and killed Berek? Several more thoughts went through Gilliam's mind, but he dismissed them. If his nephew was dead, they could be dooming themselves. No, somehow he knew Berek was alive. He had to be. After everything they'd gone through, Gilliam refused to give up hope. A silent prayer to Fallor helped ease his nerves.
Their plan had changed enroute. Feeling that sneaking into the compound would be next to impossible, they agreed it was better to send in a scout. Janessa had volunteered before Gilliam could finish his sentence. She shot through the knee-high grass easier than the most graceful of nature's beasts.
Gilliam found a spot beneath a willow tree that would keep them hidden and sat down. Galin joined him, and they both kept their eyes on the field that swallowed their companion. Galin pulled out his old weathered knife and inspected it for any chips in the blade. Satisfied there were no imperfections, he resheathed it and leaned against the tree. Gilliam watched the Dwarf with mild curiosity until he couldn't help but ask what was on his mind. "How do you do it?"
Galin raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"
"When everything's calm, you seem anxious and agitated, but when danger is about to welcome us, you're calm."
Galin smiled. There was no threat of ambush where they stood. If there was, they'd already be dead. "Long years campaigning, lad."
Gilliam nodded. "Until last night, I always thought of you as a merchant."
"None of us are what we seem." Galin pulled his knife back out and began whittling on a piece of wood he carried with him.
"So I've learned." Gilliam raised his gaze to the trees above them, then towards the camp. "Is it always like this before?"
Galin nodded as he sliced off a small piece of wood. A decorative cut, Gilliam thought. "Always. Such is the life of a soldier wandering or otherwise. Endless moments of boredom..."
"And extreme moments of terror," Gilliam finished the sentence. He heard the same phrase from former soldiers and wandering swords for hire, but he never understood what they meant until that moment.
Next to him, Galin nodded, shaving off a long piece of wood. "Aye, lad."
*****
The boredom of her companions was the farthest thing from Janessa's mind as she wandered through Main Street. She assumed Galin and Gilliam were having the time of their lives while she was forced to walk through a deserted market place. Most of the shops were being packed by their proprietors as they readied themselves for the inevitable move the next morning. In the best traditions of Halflings, Janessa worked hard to turn the current climate to her favor. As such, a few passersby were relieved of their coin purses or some piece of jewelry they wouldn't miss for some time.
"I bet Galin and Gilliam are having loads of fun hiding in the woods while I trudge around here." Janessa couldn't help but pout, she felt as though she cheated herself out of a grand adventure.
A strange sound came from behind one of the empty stalls. Curious, she thought, and made her way between the makeshift structure and a large tree stump that was all that remained of the tree used to build the stall and its neighbor a few days earlier.
Behind the stalls were empty lots where a pair of tents once stood. She stopped at the edge of the wall and glanced around. Whatever made the strange thunking sound was nowhere in sight. She knew she should've felt relieved, but something warned her to stay tight against the wall. True to her race, Janessa trusted her instincts and clung to the wall like a mouse hiding from a predator.
Above her, taloned feet capable of digging and ripping into stone flexed, leaving deep grooves in the wooden ceiling. Fech was busy finishing his early morning catch, an opossum that dared to stray from its den in the late morning sun. Humans would've thought it rabid, but the fact it tried to run when it saw its death coming had proven otherwise to the gargoyle.
Fech was many things his fellow gargoyles weren't. He was loyal to humans, allowed himself to be fed by the human's hand, and worst of all, he obeyed orders given to him by a human.
While the first two were truthful, the later was only a half truth. Yes, he took orders from Renard, but he didn't obey every one of them. He disobeyed several times before, following what he believed to be the correct course of action. Renard wasn't all-knowing. He made mistakes despite his own brilliant mind. That morning, Renard had instructed his pet not to eat. He wanted him hungry for what needed to be done. To his credit, Fech did admit that if he was ravenous, he would be more vicious during an attack. But what his master didn't realize was it took energy to fly from one point to another. The entire assignment wouldn't work if Fech had to fight against a growling stomach as well as his targets.
He swallowed the last of the opossum and looked around for another morsel. Disappointed, and ironically, wishing for a stray Halfling, Fech spread his wings and leapt into the air with his powerful legs. His leathery wings filled with a small air thermal and he began his journey towards Hope. Before he felt the uplift of air, he thought he heard a squeak below him. Believing it to be a lowly mouse, something no gargoyle would stoop low enough to eat, he didn't bother to look below him.
*****
The hand clasped itself over her mouth as another arm wrapped around her chest. The sudden pressure caused a squeak of protest to come from Janessa, but the gentle firmness of the pressure wasn't one of a threatening nature. A familiar voice whispering in her ear confirmed her feeling. "Easy, don't make a sound."
Janessa couldn't believe her luck! If she wasn't mistaken about whom the voice belonged to, then everything became much easier for her. As the shape of the gargoyle grew smaller, the hands holding her loosened. Without restraint, she spun around on the person she knew to be there.
"Berek! I knew it was you! Won't Galin and Gilliam be... oh, hello. I'm sorry, I didn't see you at first."
The Halfling's enthusiasm was contagious, causing Berek to return Janessa's smile. "I'm sorry. Fleir, this is my friend, Janessa."
"Nice to meet you, Janessa." Fleir bowed her head at the introduction. She remembered hearing about a Halfling winning a handsome amount on Berek's fight the other night. "You've earned quite the reputation around here."
"Really?" Janessa beamed. "You'll have to tell me all about it."
Knowing what was coming, Berek held up his hand to stop Janessa before she started. "Janessa... what are you doing here?"
Janessa forgot about having a reputation for the moment. "Rescuing you, of course. Galin and Gilliam are waiting for me to meet them. I'm their scout."
Berek nodded with a smile. "I should've known." He glanced over his shoulder into Main Street, but hardly anyone was out. "We'd better hurry. I don't like that Fech is out there somewhere."
Fleir nodded. She understood the danger he was in. She had heard the stories of fighters being freed only to be hunted by the gargoyle. "We'd better make haste. He's got a good head start on us."
Berek bent over, picking up a handful of loose dirt as magical words flowed into his mind. Janessa began to ask a question, but before she could get the words out, he threw the dirt into the air in front of them while uttering a magical phrase. A purplish portal opened, and he grabbed Janessa and Fleir before leaping into it. The portal closed as soon as they entered it, leaving no trace they had ever been there.
*****
The two companions sat under the willow tree, watching the field for any signs of Janessa's return. She'd been gone for thirty minutes, judging by the sun; more than enough to finish her task and return. Despite the reassurances of Galin, Gilliam was about to go after the Halfling when Galin grabbed his arm. "Fech is out."
Gilliam looked at the Dwarf for a moment, then turned in time to see Fech angling away from them and towards Hope. "What's it mean?"
For the first time, Galin was glad they decided to approach the camp from a different side, otherwise, Fech would've seen them. "Berek's not dead. Renard likes to let Fech hunt." He paused for a moment. "My guess is he got away."
"You're always so melodramatic, Galin." Startled by the voice, both companions turned to see Berek, Janessa, and Fleir.
Galin regained his composure before Gilliam. "A bit thick on the entrance, aren't you, lad?"
Janessa stood by Berek's side, beaming. "That was fun; a much nicer trip than Viola's was." It was all she could do not to dance around. The leap into the portal hadn't been expected, but the journey was worth it. It didn't matter who was casting the spells, she loved the sensation of being lifted and pulled by unseen hands.
Berek didn't hear Janessa as he eyed Galin, then Gilliam. "You two look like a raiding party. Didn't know I was worth all that."
Gilliam recovered from the shock, and in a handful of steps he reached Berek, embracing him. "Thought I lost you."
Berek returned the embrace, and for the briefest of moments, he looked every bit the young man he once was. Gilliam gathered himself and stepped back to examine his nephew. It only took a moment for him to notice the lack of bruises, and another to notice the third member of Berek's party. He couldn't help staring at the beautiful young woman standing off to the side. Her flowing red hair and soft features didn't belong to a person wearing the worn out tunic, breeches, and cloak. She showed no signs of living on the road as her dress did, but yet, there was something about her that did.
The look in her eyes seemed familiar, though the nervousness in them made it difficult for him to be sure. "Forgive me, madam. I wasn't aware my nephew traveled with such loveliness on his arm." Yes, that was it, he was sure of it. She was attached to Berek somehow, though when it came to women, he knew less than nothing, but he was certain she sought some form of approval.
The journey through the magical portal, though thrilling to some, had been extremely difficult on Fleir. Air Nymphs used a form of magic as old as the world itself. Like other Nymphs, they relied on nature's magic. They could hide in plain sight, summon other Nymphs if the need arose, but most of all, they could transform into the air around them. Their preferred method of travel was to move through the air in gentleness that few, if any, could understand. Because of that and their gentle nature, mortal magic was crude and would transport them roughly and without mercy. Many of the natural magic users, such as her people and dragons, never understood the need for other races to channel the magic through them instead of simply using it.
Fleir was never so happy to feel the unforgiving rock beneath her feet as right then. But now, she found herself preoccupied with her own situation. Certain the older human would've recognized her after the long hours they sometimes spent working together to heal the injuries from the pit fights, she remained quiet. Having not been noticed at first scared her, as if the mortal magic had torn her apart. After hearing Gilliam speak to her, she was certain she made the correct choice. Berek made her young and beautiful, more so than she'd been in centuries. He was indeed meant for her.
She bowed to Gilliam with a rare gracefulness. "I thank you, sir. Your compliments warm me more than you could possibly know." Gilliam watched her with a confused eye while Galin snorted with laughter. Fleir smiled to herself. The Dwarf knew her, but there was no harm in that. She had no secrets to hide. "But there is no need for the formalities, Gilliam. We do know each other."
"We do?" The cleric realized he'd been right about her looking familiar, but he still couldn't figure out from where.
She let out a chuckle as Berek clapped Gilliam on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Uncle. Fleir looked a lot older a couple of hours ago."
"Fleir? Madam Fleir? But she was my age."
Berek shrugged. "It's a long story, Uncle."
"One that best be told elsewhere, lads. Forty silver says Fech is waiting for you somewhere between here and Hope, and we'd best be ready."
Berek nodded. "We saw him leave the camp. Renard's going away present, I'd wager."
Janessa fought against the chill that shot through her body. "He's disgusting. How can he eat like that?" The memory of him sitting above her eating would fill her dreams for days. If Berek hadn't grabbed her... she shook her head. It was better not to think about it. Fleir rested a comforting hand on Janessa's shoulder.
"Gargoyles prefer blood, lass." Galin loosened his hammer from his belt. "Raw meat and blood to keep their senses sharp."
Fleir shot the Dwarf a warning look; she'd become protective of the Halfling since they first met a few minutes earlier. Galin paid her little attention. "He flew past us just before you arrived. Straight for Hope."
Berek nodded in thought. Renard and Fech were up to something. But what, he had no idea. It couldn't be a trap. They were all there except for... "Where's Viola?" It felt like a rock dropped into his stomach as soon as he asked the question.