Chapter 11

By the way the light had begun to poke through the branches of the trees, Masonae knew it was time to be on his way. It had been rather careless, he had decided late yesterday, to restart his journey. It meant that when nightfall had come to the forest, he had still been, at his best guess, three or four hours away from Tamarin. So, as his Uncle Lasser had taught him, he found a rather large tree, and climbed up into the safety of its branches for the night. He’d slept surprisingly well.
Masonae’s feet hit the ground and he looked around. It was difficult to tell which way the light was coming in, and though he had a fairly instinctive sense of direction, he pulled the small compass Lasser had given him out of his pack. It showed north in the direction Masonae last expected it.
“It will always get you home,” Uncle Lasser had said. Home was east, and if the compass pointed the way home, he needed to head the opposite way to get to Tamarin.
A branch cracked behind him. Masonae froze for a moment, then slowly reached for his bow. His mind scanned through the warnings his father had given him.
You can usually see dragon activity before they appear. Burn marks on the trees, cinder piles and the most disgusting smell of sulfur you’ll ever whiff. Bow in hand and slowly reaching back for an arrow, Masonae glanced around. There weren’t any signs, but it didn’t hurt to be careful.
They like to climb trees. Their camouflage is perfect for jumping down on victims who never see them coming. The trees looked clear, but with the wind blowing the branches, the movement of a green and brown dragon would be sincerely difficult to spot.
“Little boy lost?”
Immediately Masonae notched his arrow and swung around in the direction of the voice. A moment later he spotted the source. The creature was small, and if voice was any inclination, male. About two and a half feet tall, he looked somewhat like a cross between a mole and a tree stump. Large brown wide hands were folded calmly over his stomach. His nose sprung out from his face like a tree root, and his black bead eyes peered at Masonae inquisitively.
“There be monster following you.”
“How do you know?”
“I be following you too. You strange.” The creature chuckled to himself.
“You’re strange too.”
The creature giggled and bounced slightly. “Many kindnesses.” He put his ear to the ground.
“Monster be coming now. You kill him?”
“Where?”
“That way. I watch.” The creature suddenly used his large hands to start digging furiously until he disappeared into a hole. A moment later, only his head and long treelike nose poked out from the earth. Holding perfectly still, he looked like most of the tree roots that littered the forest floor.
Masonae pulled his bow back into position and faced the forest where the creature had pointed. A monster to a two and a half foot creature could be no more than a deer or rather ferocious rabbit, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
It seemed like a lifetime as he waited for the monster to appear. Masonae watched every shift of the wind as if it were going to leap out at him and go for his throat. His breath came in shallow guarded breaths as he tried to calm the thunk thunk thunk of his chest. Even the heartbeat could mess up an arrow shot.
A branch cracked directly behind him. Masonae swiveled quickly, trying to draw a target. Something large and green bumped up against his leg and set him off balance. The arrow flew wild and whistled through the trees. Masonae fell flat on his back, knocking his head on a root. The pain split through his head and he desperately tried to grab onto his fleeing consciousness.
“Knife. Knife,” he said out loud, trying to force his mind and body to work together. His fingers felt numbly for the knife in its scabbard.
Hot breath washed over his face a moment before he felt the large rough tongue rake his face. The terror left him as he shoved the furry green face away from him with two hands.
“Pylon! You idiotic cat! I could have killed you, you know.”
Masonae opened one eye as the pain in his head subsided. If a cat could look skeptical, Pylon was managing it very well. Masonae put his arms around the cat’s neck and lifted himself up to a sitting position. He scratched the cat’s ears with two hands.
“I could have. Then you’d be nothing but a big green floor rug.” Unconcerned, Pylon simply rubbed his head harder against Masonae’s hands. It was actually unlikely, that Masonae could have managed to kill his pet, as the cat was very good at sneaking up on people.
“No more fight?” The creature called from his hiding place.
“No. No more fight.”
“You no kill the monster?”
“No. This is my monster.” Technically it was his mother’s monster, but a family pet was a family pet.
“Monster no kill me?”
“Not unless I tell him to,” Masonae replied, pushing Pylon away so he could get to his feet.
The creature scrambled out of his hole and peered at Pylon with great interest. He walked in a circle around the two of them, carefully inspecting the large bright green cat as he went. He even got up enough nerve to reach out and touch Pylon’s flank before pulled back.
“You want a present?”
“Ummm…”
“I give you present. I can’t use it, so for you.” He scrambled backwards and dug into the ground. He came up holding a small glass ball with blue smoke swirling inside.
“Found it. Takes you places. So you not lost.” He offered the ball cupped in his hands. When Masonae hesitated, the creature chided, “Is bad manners not to take gift. Who be your mother?”
Masonae took the ball from the creature’s hands. “Great Mage Mitty.”
“No wonder you tame monsters.” Masonae stared for a moment, surprised. The creature had not gone all glassy eyed or ignored him. The magic seemed to have no hold on him at all.
“Thank you,” Masonae said simply.
“Now that good manners. Now go.”
Masonae had seen these balls before. The user simply had to hold the idea of where he wanted to go in his head, and then break the ball. The magic inside would do the rest. The problem, he decided, was that magic didn’t ever have the same effect on him as it did on other humans. He could very well wish to go to Tamarin, and end up right back outside his front doorstep. Going by foot however, may well take the rest of the afternoon, as he still didn’t know exactly where he was, where Tamarin was, or how to get there avoiding all roads.
So taking a chance on the ball didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Masonae grabbed a good hold of Pylon, closed his eyes and brought to mind all the descriptions he’d heard of Tamarin. White granite walls, bubbling fountains, green lawns, statues – he filled his head with them, then threw the ball down at his feet.
He heard the tinkle of the glass breaking and then felt the pull of the magic start at his feet. It creeped up to his knees and then washed up and over him. Pylon growled beside him, and his stomach turned butterflies. The flip flops settled and the magic receded.
Masonae opened his eyes, fully expecting to see the gates of Tamarin or the cottage he’d grown up in. A quick glance told him he was in neither place. He stood in a large forest clearing surrounding the edge of the circular space were seven tall trees and one slightly humped over wizened one that clung stubbornly to life. Masonae recognized it immediately from stories he’d been told at school. The stupid magic ball had taken him to the Ring of Ancients. He was now nowhere near Tamarin, home, or the edge of the forest. He was right in the middle of dragon infested territory.