not let him go.” Harman clenched his jaw. “You can’t make us.”
Felsafell shook his head slowly. “I can’t make you. But I’ll tell him not to love you. Yes, I will. You’ll still be alone. Alone forever. Unloved and alone.”
“I will never love you,” cried Gewey. “Not if you hurt Kaylia.”
Harman shifted his eyes to Gewey. “You will love us,” he said. “Your father and mother loved us. So will you.”
“You’re wrong,” said Gewey. “But I will release my mother and father. Then you can be with them again.”
“You see,” said Felsafell. “You are a fool. The fool of fools. You keep the one who can give you love, but if you do he will never love you.”
Harman turned his back and lowered his head. “Will you return to us, brother?” he asked.
Felsafell walked up and placed his withered hand on Harman’s shoulder. “I cannot. I must help free the fathers and mothers. And more there is to do for me. But I will join you soon enough.”
Gewey watched as Harman faded and disappeared. ”What happened?” he asked. “Is he gone?”
“Gone?” Felsafell replied. “No, not gone. Just far away.”
“Thank you,” said Kaylia. “I owe you a debt.”
Felsafell smiled. “You will repay,” he said. “Oh, yes. Then I can rest old bones and tired head.”
Chapter One
Millet, Maybell and Malstisos made their way toward Hazrah. The first snows began to fall just as they had rounded the western end of the Razor Edge Mountains. Luckily, the snow was light and didn’t bar their way, but Millet feared for Maybell’s health nonetheless. As strong as she was, he knew the long days of travel and the cold weather took a toll on her aging body. He and Malstisos kept a close eye on her and did their best to lighten her burden, though she didn’t make it easy for them. Maybell had an annoying habit of taking on extra work, especially if they tried to do anything she saw as her duties.
Aside from the dropping temperatures and light snow, travel was pleasant. Malstisos was open, friendly, and free with his humor. Millet couldn’t help being pleased to have him along, and his skill as a hunter came in handy, as did his ability to know when harsh weather was coming.
They had done well avoiding other travelers, and only once had they been forced to seek shelter at a village inn. Malstisos insisted on accompanying them, stating his desire to see humans from other parts of the world. At first Millet and Maybell objected, but soon realized that he could remain unnoticed even in a crowded tavern.
They were three days outside of Hazrah when they encountered the first indication that things had changed in the north since Millet had last been there. Malstisos stopped abruptly and led Millet and Maybell into the nearby brush.
“Wait here and keep silent,” he whispered, then disappeared into the woods parallel to the road.
Maybell and Millet did their best to stay hidden and keep the horses calm, but as the minutes passed, the cold set in and Maybell began to shiver uncontrollably. Millet held her close in an attempt to keep her warm. At first, she tried to shake him off, but eventually relented. Thirty minutes later Malstisos returned, his expression grave.
“Five soldiers are camped three-hundred yards down the road,” he said. “They bear a standard I’m unfamiliar with, though admittedly I know little of human nations in the north.”
“What did it look like?” asked Millet.
“Red with a gray background, and it bore the image of broken scales.”
Millet and Maybell looked at each other. “That’s the standard of Angrääl,” grumbled Millet. “We must not let them see us.”
“We should go around then,” said Malstisos. He turned to Maybell, “I’m sorry, but we cannot rest yet.”
“I’ll be fine,” said Maybell. “It’s not riding that bothers me, it’s standing still that chills old bones. Lead on.”
Malstisos led them northeast away from the road and through forest. Millet could feel the wind pick up as it howled through the bare limbs of the trees. They rode for two hours before Malstisos finally called for a halt and built a small fire.
“Rest here,” said Malstisos. “I’ll scout ahead.” He pulled a small flask from his pack and handed it to Maybell. “Drink this. It will help you stay warm.”
“What is it?” she asked. “Not jawas tea I hope.”
Malstisos smiled warmly. “It’s elf brandy,” he said. “A small sip should take the chill away. I’ll return before dawn.” He strode off into the woods.