“How far are we going?”
His guide scrunched up his features. “Three days’ journey. We must cross the length of the Pashanon to Kraal Reach. She waits for us there, in her castle.”
“Her castle?”
“She destroyed the Straken Lord. She threw down Tael Riverine when he came into your world with his followers to take it for himself. But when the demons were returned to the Forbidding, she was sent with them. Now she rules the creatures trapped here. She is the Straken Queen.”
Drisker knew Grianne was a prisoner in the Forbidding. Having reverted to her identity as the Ilse Witch during her confrontation with Tael Riverine, she had been swept up at the birth of the new Ellcrys and carried away with all the other demons into this limbo prison. When she had appeared to him at the Hadeshorn, she had told Drisker that she was not dead, but alive and well. What she had not said was that she was now ruler over all those imprisoned with her. He supposed it was a logical result of her having destroyed their former ruler, but it troubled him to find her so deeply enmeshed in this world’s affairs. If she was not only one of the demons but their leader, what might he expect of her if he found a way to return them both to the Four Lands?
But he had made a bargain with her. He had given his word. She wanted to be free of the Forbidding and returned to the life and the world from which she had been taken. She had said she wanted to die as the creature she had been before: a Faerie creature in service to Mother Tanequil. For that was what she had been, hadn’t she? That was what Pen Ohmsford had given her the chance to become at the end of her life.
All this she had lost with the dying of the old Ellcrys and the fall of the Forbidding. And this was what she wanted back. He thought she was being genuine when she said it, and there was no reason to doubt her yet. She had been alive—such as life might be in her present circumstances—for almost a thousand years, but these past two hundred had seen her returned to the terrible creature she had once been and had fought so hard to escape. She was, no doubt, immensely unhappy and desperate to be free.
It might not seem possible now, but he knew he had to try to find a way to give her back what had been stolen from her.
Weka Dart was nattering on, skipping ahead and then back again, always moving—a bundle of energy that would not be contained, and much of it centered on his mouth. Drisker endured it, because to try to stop it would have been both futile and petty, and he needed the Ulk Bog to help him reach Grianne Ohmsford.
Three days of this journey lay ahead of him, and he was dreading every step.
They walked until nightfall, their journey uneventful. Now and then, Weka Dart urged them quickly into hiding, but only once did they actually see what it was that threatened. In that single viewing, Drisker caught sight of a huge, lumbering beast that was crossing an open space in front of them and did not deviate from its path as it went. Had they been seen, he was unsure what would have transpired, but he was just as glad he would never find out. He was grateful in those moments that he had the services of the Ulk Bog to make certain they stayed alive.
When they stopped for the night, his guide told him to stay put, and vanished into the growing dark with no explanation. On his return, he carried the limp body of a small spiky creature that Drisker did not recognize. On closer inspection, the Druid saw it was a bird of some kind.
“Food!” Weka Dart announced, and began plucking out the feathers.
When it was reduced to meat and bones, the Ulk Bog glanced up, saw that Drisker was frowning at him, and used some of his drinking water to wash the bird clean. Drisker, in an effort to speed things along and overly anxious to eat, summoned flames to his fingertips using Druid magic so they could cook the bird. But the Ulk Bog was already biting into the carcass, and when he glanced over at what Drisker was attempting, he had an immediate fit.
“No, no, no! Do you want to get us killed? Every Fury and Gormie and Dracha and whatever else might be out there hunting will be on top of us in minutes!” He tore off a leg and passed it over. “Use common sense, if you have any. Eat it this way.”
“Raw?”
Weka Dart rolled his eyes. “This is how you are supposed to eat it, Straken. This is why I caught it. Now stop arguing!”
Drisker began gnawing on the leg and found the meat quite good, if a bit gamy. He ate what he was given, and a second helping besides. By the time he was finished, he thought maybe he had never tasted anything quite so good. And when both were sated, they sat together in the dark looking out at the gloom.
“How safe are we here?” Drisker asked after a while.
“Safe enough, so long as one of us keeps watch. I will watch first. Ulk Bogs don’t need much sleep. Too risky to sleep when you are smaller and weaker than almost everything else. But you can sleep. I will protect you.”
Drisker didn’t argue the matter. He had already entrusted his life to this strange creature. He waited perhaps five minutes, then rolled into his frayed and torn travel cloak and was asleep within minutes.
* * *
—
The following day, they crossed the river and angled southwest into a region of the Forbidding that Weka Dart called Huka Flats. It was desolate country—more so, even, than anything they had passed through so far. Much of it was dried-out flatland with dozens upon dozens of holes in the ground. After eyeing the holes for a bit, Drisker asked what they were.
“Homes for Barkies,” his companion answered. When the Druid looked at him questioningly, he added, “Burrowing creatures about twice the size of your foot. Very shy—unless you make the mistake of getting too close to the entrances to their homes. Then they come out. Two, maybe three hundred at a time. Enough to pull you down and eat you while you are still alive. Not a pleasant experience. I have seen it happen. But walk where I walk and you’ll be safe enough.”
They went on, Drisker proceeding more cautiously now, his eyes on the dark burrows surrounding them.
“Why do you call them Barkies?” he asked, trying to steer his thoughts away from the images Weka Dart’s descriptive words had generated in his mind.
“They bark at night. Sometimes they bark all night. You can hear them for miles. But Barkies feed in the daytime. Like now. They keep quiet when they’re hunting. They just lie in wait in their burrows.”
Drisker couldn’t get out of there soon enough, but it still took them almost an hour to traverse the Barkie burrow village and get clear enough for the Druid to breathe freely again.
The day passed without incident—if you didn’t count the times the Ulk Bog either had them hide or simply stand motionless until some form of danger passed by. Ahead, mountains appeared against a misty horizon. This was where they would find Kraal Reach, but it was late in the day and there didn’t seem to be any chance of reaching it before darkness.