The timing of the Universe is always perfect.

Though the voice had stopped, Wendell could still feel an excitement, even giddiness surrounding him. There were moments, as they struggled to navigate the dank, dark tunnel, that he was convinced he heard giggling. Very similar to when he first met King Robert at Tämä-Un.

It was unsettling.

Wendell had been the second to last down into the tunnel, flinching as the lid clicked shut on the hollowed trunk above, sealing them in darkness. It was unusually warm, considering they were underground. A musty smell overlaid with a strong scent of soil. It made Wendell choke and he coughed.

The party moved slowly down the narrow incline which felt like it went on forever. Small fingers reached out from the walls, brushing against and tugging at Wendell’s jeans. His sneakers found stray roots poking up from the floor and was forced to reach out and run his hand along the wall to steady himself. Uh,…uh…AH! He couldn’t see a thing…and it was unnerving him.

“That’s far enough,” said Animal from behind him. “Let’s have a little bit of light, Doc.”

Wendell heard scuffling of feet in front of him and then the faint sound of glass, clinking together. There was a lull, and then long scraping sounds. The sound grew louder, followed by sparks. The glow revealed a broad and heavily whiskered face with thick grey brows. The sparks burst into flame. Though it was only a little fire on the end of a cloth, it brought great relief to Wendell.

The tunnel was only slightly wider than the shoulder width of two men. Walls of both stone and dirt, now covered in green moss, was supported by an archway every 50 feet or so. Wendell looked down around his legs and saw that the fingers in the dark were nothing more than roots that hd grown into the tunnel from the trees above them. Rusted metal sconces in the shape of steer heads held black tipped torches along one wall.

Doc snatched a torch covered in cobwebs and held it over the flame. The pitch slowly took and bathed the tunnel in bright , warm light. A second torch was set ablaze and passed back to Animal.

“All right, get moving,” he said, nudging Wendell’s shoulder forward.

Good grief! Does this guy ever sound like he doesn’t want to beat someone up? It irritated him, being pushed around and not being told a thing. But Wendell quickly noticed a lack of concern. The tenseness, nervousness, even the fear he had felt over the last few days…was completely absent. It was the first time in days that he felt completely at peace with where he was…and he wondered.

Maybe it’s because I’d rather deal with a human problem than giants wanting to eat me? But that didn’t make much sense—he didn’t want to be hurt, period. His hand scratched the seam around the Ithari. Who are these people?

He wondered how this “Animal” knew about a secret passageway. Thoughts rolled back to the burning village and how the young girl…what’s her name? Kiljua. That’s right. How she had stared at him while Ithari was exposed. She didn’t seem surprised…or shocked at all to see the gem. Which seemed very odd. She said she knew who I was. How do so many people know who I am, when even I’m not sure of who I am?

He tried to catch glimpses of Miriam up ahead. Two of the strangers walked between them, but Wendell could see the gray streaks in her hair poking around the shoulder of the one they called Bear.

Wendell ached. She had been so kind to him. Cared for him while he was wounded, shared their food without any expectation of recompense. She had believed in him…and I let her down. The words almost escaped his lips. His shoulders sag forward under their weight. She’s never going to listen to me. She won’t believe me, even if I told her the truth. She’s seen the Ithari.

He scuffled along the tunnel, the sound of his sneakers scraping against the rocks. The squeak of a rat shot past their feet, scurrying along the wall and into the darkness behind them.

Wendell ran his fingers along his cheek and bottom lip, where Miriam had spit on him. He bit his cheek, frowning. Is this what it’s going to be like? Letting people down at the most critical times of their lives? Livi’s screams still echoed in his ears. The mute girl, shocked into a voice at seeing her older brother, just a child himself, pierced with a knife. And I couldn’t get there in time. I would have… but he had to stop. Wendell could feel his heartbeat in his throat. Would he have thrown himself between Hiram and the blade? It was easy to think of what he could have done…but the Ithari didn’t shield him from pain. Could I have done it?

The whole of his muscles ached. His legs suddenly felt like lead and he wished he could stop. To sit down and rest.

Miriam’s words and accusations replayed in his mind, looping over and over until he stumbled over a rock and bumping into the older man with the cane. He looked over her shoulder at Wendell, wide-eyed.

“Careful there, young man,” he said softly, “plenty of things to trip over, but not many places to fall.” The wrinkles around the long face smiled.

“Sorry,” Wendell apologized quickly, “So sorry.”

“Names Cane,” he chuckled, “and you’re alright. Just watch where you step.”

Cane was slightly shorter than Wendell, broad shouldered but thin. He looked a lot like a walking pear, his belly sloping gradually and swaying as he walked. A long ponytail of grey-white hair swung down his back and swished across his hips like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. His movements were sure footed and graceful.

Miriam looked back at the sound of Wendell’s voice, glaring.

He gulped and fell silent. She thought I was a healer. That I could actually heal that gaping wound. His mind raced back to the barn in Evans village. Miriam had mentioned that she came from a village that believed in a Gnolaum. What is a Gnolaum? Is that one of the abilities I should have? Is it my title? Am I supposed to be able to heal? He shook his head, confused. He thought he remembered Alhannah saying something about Gnolaum and the gnomes. It was too much to think about.

It was unwise to linger on the negative thoughts, but he couldn’t let it go. So far I’ve made a mess of everything! None of this would’ve happened if I had stayed with Chuck and Alhannah and…he bit his lip.

Dax left me.

The thought hit Wendell hard in the chest and his stomach sank. His eyes watched the back of Miriam’s head. None of this would’ve happened if Dax hadn’t of left me. He would probably be training how to fight by now, safe in the company of people who knew who he really was. The thought infuriated him. Dax had pushed and prodded since he’d arrived. The Iskari Council had thrown Wendell into the troll’s lap for who knew how long and Dax had resented it from the beginning.

He grit his teeth, jaw clenched so tight his ears hurt.

If only he could convince Miriam that the events of today were not his fault.

Wendell couldn’t wait to give Dax a piece of his mind.

The line stopped.

“What’s the holdup?” said Animal.

“Left or right?” Keiha called, “I forget.”

Animal shook his head, “You’d think a dwarf like Axon would have included a sign or two in these tunnels.” He grunted to himself, “Right turn.”

“Who ARE you people?” Wendell finally blurted out. He tried to maintain his pace and not bump into those in front of him, but he was fed up. He’d done too much, been through too much to be pushed around. Well, unless they were going to hurt him—but he was going to push the envelop as best he could.

He kept looking over his shoulder at the seemingly irritated leader.

Animal kept the torch high. His thin gray streaks caught the torchlight beneath his long black hair. The corners of his bushy mustache curled up, “If you haven’t noticed, we’re the ones saving your backside.” He pushed Wendell forward.

Wendell felt mad enough to dish out a nasty come back, but couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“No,” he snapped back, “you’re people who showed up after we dealt with most of our problems and shoved us down a hole in the ground!”

Bear laughed from the front of the line, “Oh, I like him! HAR! HAR!”

The other men in line also snickered or chuckled in support.

Wendell kept trudging forward, keeping his face forward. He didn’t want to know if Animal was snarling at him.

He wasn’t.

“We’re people fulfilling a promise,” Animal finally said, in a half-civilized tone.

Wendell waited for more, but it never came. Animal kept prodding him forward if he slowed down…but that was apparently the end of their conversation.

Now that he had finally arrived at Til-Thorin, Wendell wasn’t sure what to do. His hand slid into his back pocket and felt one of the corners of the letter. He made a mental note to read it over as soon as he got a chance.

****

The grounds of Til-Thorin were a flurry of movement. Those in authority shouted orders at every turn, soldiers stood to the ready, servants and volunteers flocked about stocking arrows, stoking fires…and preparing bandages.

Overhead the storm had shifted. The snow had ceased falling.

The inhabitants of the Keep could clearly behold their impending doom in the fields below. Black clouds now rolled outward, encompassing the Highlands with its sleet. It was as if nature had walled in the opponents of the battle, isolating them from the outside world.

Chuck had taken his place once more upon the center wall, over the main gate. The wizard stood there, leaning heavily upon his staff while he shook the collected frost from his wide brim hat. Both Dax and Alhannah stood by him, keeping the old man company. They rocked back and forth on wooden crates, so they could see between the merlons.

Elder’s Gaidred and Altorin stood upon the upper East and West walls of the fortress, nearly invisible in their black robes.

Even the Rook stood vigilant, mixed among the Kings archers. They stared out over the fields with keen eyes, scanning the forest edge for any glimmer of movement.

King Robert and Lady Tamorah stood in the courtyard, consulting with Lord Joram.

“But sire,” pleaded Joram, “it is a great risk for you to leave the protection of these walls.”

The King smiled at the new Steward warmly, “Yes, but no one knows our enemy as well as I.” He adjusted the shoulder strap that secured his great sword, “A scout will not know what to look for. I do.” Tugging on both his gloves, “Tamorah, I believe you and I can handle this on our own. Better to leave the Rook to assist the men in defending the Keep.”

She nodded. “Agreed. We will be back before they know it anyway.”

Joram’s face was long and pale, “And if something should happen to you, sire?”

King Robert grinned wide, the gap in his teeth showing underneath his mustache, “Then you’ll have to enjoy this party all by yourself!”

Joram didn’t laugh with the King. He stood there in confusion as the two cloaks vanish around the eastern tower.

The King and Lady Tamorah sprinted across the courtyard towards the stables. Even at his considerable age, the Evolu maiden had a difficult time keeping pace with the human her people called Man of War. It was one of the things that amazed her. Excited her. A man of honor. Duty and dedication unequaled among his people.

The stables were set deep into the rock of the mountain, constructed with logs and thick planks of wood, carefully fitted in tongue and groove fashion. Tamorah froze, wrinkling her nose as the King grabbed a torch and yanked open the door to the third stall. The scent of dung assaulted her senses, but he looked unaffected. Swinging the door wide, King Robert walked through the dung, to the back wall, and ran his glove across the seams.

The maiden looked over her shoulder, then back at the King. “Uh, Robert?” she asked, confused, “What are we doing in the stables?”

Scraping his boot along the floor, he cleared a small area and stabbed the torch into the stall wall sconce. With both hands pressed firmly against two slats of wood, the King stepped down on an odd-looking stone with his heel.

Her answer came in the form of a loud clicking sound.

A section of the back wall popped forward, revealing a hidden door.

“Oh,” she replied.

King Robert ran his palms along the workmanship that concealed the tunnel for over a century. “Built during the Kinslayer Wars, so my family could escape those hunting them.” He slid his fingers into the slit and grunted as he tugged. The door creaked in complaint. “Only had use for it once…” he started to explain.

He stopped abruptly.

Tamorah stepped closer trying to peer over the Kings shoulder. “Is there something wrong?”

King Robert slowly raised his hands into the air and turned around. A long knife resting against the side of his throat.

“I taught you better than that, pup,” whispered a deep voice. “I’m thoroughly disgusted.”

Lunging to the side, Tamorah drew her sword in one fluid motion, swinging at the arm emerging from the darkness.

A dagger flipped from the shadows, striking the pummel of Tamorah’s blade. The force of the projectile knocked the Evolu off center, her downward blow missing altogether. The sword point clunked against the stone floor.

Slipping into the torch light, a young lady waved her dainty finger at the elf. “Try that again and the next one kisses your forehead.”

Animal lowered the knife and slugged the King squarely between the shoulder blades.

Tamorah’s hand went to the dagger in her belt.

“Ah-ah-ah,” warned the girl.

“What if I’d been someone else,” Animal snapped, shoving the tunnel door open and pushing his way into the stall. “I could hear you clear down the hole, I could—yapping away with this…” he looked Tamorah up and down with amusement, “female.”

Kiljua glared at him, “Watch it.”

Animal rolled his eyes and punched the King again, in the shoulder, “The point is, pup—use your senses. Never assume!”

King Robert frowned soberly and nodded like a little child being scolded.

“How DARE you!” barked Tamorah, stepping forward and ignoring Kiljua altogether. “Have some respect for your King!”

The laughter resounded in both the stall and tunnel. Animal was the loudest of all. He stared back at the maiden, but her expression of shock only added fuel to the fire.

“Our King?” he squeaked, wiping a tear from his eye, “Oh, you’re a funny one, child.”

Tamorah’s eyes reflected the flames of the torch, “I am older than I look.”

Animal’s brows rolled forward, casting deep shadows over his eyes. His thick mustache curled up at the corners, creating a rather sinister expression. “As am I, child, so…respect your elders. This boy is no king of ours. We’re freemen, now and forever.”

One by one, the party pushed their way from the tunnel. Bear helped Evan through the opening, the blacksmith’s face extremely pale. Diyana had her arm around Miriam’s shoulder and Nyoli emerged, standing upright, holding a weeping Livi.

“Freemen, hah. Renegades are more like…” Tamorah’s face softened at the sight of the little girl.

Wendell emerged from the tunnel. He shivered and clutched his dirty, blood stained tunic.

“Wendell?” gasped Tamorah.

Animal rested a hand on the Kings shoulder. “Now that we got the pleasantries over with, I have some news you’re gonna want before this shindig heats up.”

****

Chuck was sipping his mug of hot cocoa when the soldier ran up the steps.

“My Lord Morphi….Murphyo…” he gasped.

The wizard held up his hand, “Don’t hurt yourself, boy, just call me Chuck.”

The soldier bowed slightly, “Yes, my Lord Chuck.”

Alhannah giggled.

“King Robert requests your presence. He’s discovered a badly wounded youth in the tunnels.”

The wizard exchanged worried looks with Dax.

“What’s the kid look like?” Alhannah asked.

“He wears,” the soldier paused, searching for words, “a black tunic with a yellow…”

“Wendell!” blurted Dax and he jumped from the platform.

Chuck and Alhannah followed close behind, dashing across the courtyard with such energy, servants and soldiers stood aside to let them all pass. There was a group outside the stables, huddled around the entrance.

Soldiers had a wooden stretcher upon the ground.

Dax’s heart sank as he got closer. In the flickering light, he could see a sliver of the yellow smiley face between the bystanders. One of Wendell’s legs was wrapped in a bloody bandage. It looked like he’d been bleeding heavily.

Apparently the wizard saw the wound as well, because he shrieked and pushed past both Dax and the crowd.

“Wendell!” Chuck cried, dropping to his knees and grabbing the pale hand. “Speak to me, son! I’m here for you—just speak to me!”

“What do you want me to say?” Wendell replied, hovering over Evan.

Chuck looked up. His brows jumped up and down, rolling across his forehead as his face battled between confusion, shock and anger. He looked back at the unconscious young man on the stretcher. He glanced at the smiley face T-shirt, then looked back up to Wendell. He dropped Evan’s hand and stood upright with a bounce.

“That’s not funny.” He jabbed a finger in the direction of the blacksmith. “And he doesn’t look like he’s appreciated your joke either, young man. Very poor taste indeed.”

“WENDELL!” Alhannah shouted with glee, bounding off the handle of the stretcher. She flung her arms around his neck and squeezed. “I was so worried!”

Wendell hugged her back and finally had to pat her on the shoulder. “Can’t…breathe…,” he gasped.

She dropped to the ground with a grin, “Sorry.”

“Well look at him,” beamed Dax, “Survived the wildlife and made it to Til-Thorin with out us altogether!” He shook his head in disbelief.

Wendell walked around the stretcher.

…and punched him square in the face.

There was a crunch upon impact and Wendell screamed out. “ARRRGH!” Not in anger, but in pain. It was like slugging a brick wall. He could feel the broken fingers in his hand. He grit his teeth, sucking back the pain as Dax stumbled backwards.

“Wendell!” cried the wizard, shuffling in between them.

“HE LEFT ME BEHIND!” Wendell bellowed. Like a flood, the anger and frustration and fear of the past week poured out. He gripped his broken hand tightly. His eyes watered from the pain—but his gaze stayed glued on Dax. “I TRUSTED YOU!” he yelled even louder.

“Take the boy to the Great Hall,” King Robert commanded the soldiers.

Wendell ignored the group as they followed the stretcher like a funeral procession, eventually leaving him alone with Chuck, Dax and Alhannah. The gnome folded her arms and remained silent.

“Let the kid be, Chuck,” whispered Dax. He wiped the blood from his bottom lip. “He’s right, I abandoned him.”

Wendell stood there, heaving as if there wasn’t enough air in the world.

“Take another shot, kid,” Dax said flatly, holding his arms out, “if it makes ya feel better.”

They stood at odds for a brief eternity, staring at one another, until Alhannah walked past Wendell. She spun Dax around and pushed him away. When Wendell tried to follow, Chuck stepped in front of him, barring his path.

“I’m sorry your upset, son,” he said, “I really am. Shame you had to experience something uncomfortable.”

Red eyes shifted from the back of Dax’s head to the wizard. “Are you mocking me?”

“Oh no,” the wizard said dryly, “I’m trying to teach you.”

Wendell blinked.

“Your guardian had to make a choice. A hard one.”

“Really.”

Chuck reached up and grabbed the forearm of the broken hand. Pain shot through Wendell’s wrist and fingers. “Really!”

For the second time since he’d met the wizard, Chucks expression morphed. Wendell suddenly felt cornered, unable to escape the gaze of the mägo. He tried to back away, but the wizards grip intensified. The pain made his rise up onto his toes.

“I promised you in the market that I wouldn’t hold things from you again, so now I get to fulfill that oath. Dax had to choose between you and me. The advantage being, you had that little crystal in your chest and I had squat.”

Wendell’s eyes dropped.

“Look at me!” his voice shook. “What you don’t know, son, is that every single morning since you’ve been gone, Dax ported back to the wilderness to look for you!” He released Wendell’s forearm. “From sunrise to sunset he searched for you, before returning home.”

“Well,” Wendell stammered, “he should have.”

Chuck slapped him across the face so hard it made Wendell’s head whip to the side.

“How dare you!” he snapped, “You have no idea what porting does to that child. It uses his life force! Taking days for him to rest enough, to save enough energy for him to perform such feats safely. But no,” he glared at Wendell, “he pushed himself every morning, EVERY night!” He swallowed hard, gulping air, “I stayed up with him, trying to stop the bleeding, while Altorin mixed potions to ease his pain!”

Wendell clenched his eyes tight. I’m such a… No. He had nothing to say. No excuses.

Chuck lifted his chin, forcing Wendell to meet his gaze. “Believe it or not, Dax does care. More than he would ever admit out loud. It’s not his way. It tore him up to leave you—but we had one shot to escape. We all had to rely on the Ithari to bring you safely back.” He took a step back and attempted a smile, “And lookie, lookie—here you are.”

High overhead, Til-Thorin’s alarm sounded.

“For what it’s worth, my boy,” said Chuck in a lighter tone, “I’m overjoyed your back and even more so that you’re safe.”

Wendell remained silent and simply nodded.

“Now it’s time to be the hero,” the wizard chided gently.

****

Wendell flinched as the bones in his hand shifted back into alignment. He did his best to ignore the pain and Ithari did her regeneration trick.

Chuck led him to a gigantic set of stairs that wrapped up and around the front of the Keep. The courtyard was quickly flooding with sacred, frozen and wounded women and children. Servants were guiding small boys and girls up the steps and into the Great Hall.

“What’s happened?” he asked aloud, tugging at the wizards robes. Soldier still stood on the walls at attention. No one was fighting, but many of the children had wounds and a few of the women were bloody themselves.

“Ambush,” Alhannah said coldly. She stood at the bottom of the steps, directing the wounded.

A little boy limped past Wendell, holding his side—his dingy tunic ripped and stained red. He was guided by a girl only a few years older than he.

Wendell stomach sank. How old is he? Four? Maybe five years old? “Where are these people coming from?”

“The pass,” answered Dax. He handed a set of blankets to a servant, who promptly started wrapping them around children. “The people from Woodside. Those trying to flee this battle…were slaughtered by Thule’s men.”

Wendell’s fingers twitched incessantly. He stared at Dax…wanting to say something, I should say something, but ever since he got parted from Chuck and Dax, he screwed things up. Hiram was dead, Miriam hated him, Livi’s been traumatized and Evan will probably want his head soon. Wendell watched Dax shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. He quietly sighed to himself. Of all the people in this world, I cant drive a wedge between my…

Then it hit him. What were Dax and the old wizard? Wendell looked over at the little gnome, who acted a lot like a protective sister. It puzzled him.

He almost laughed out loud. Could it be that this was some strange version of his…family? He actually liked the thought.

Chuck gave him a gentle nudge with his elbow and leaned close to Wendell’s shoulder. “It’s never too late to say you’re sorry,” he whispered, “even if it’s just to say you’re sorry.”

He’s right, Wendell fidgeted, though he hated to admit it. Oh, just get it over with! He looked down, opened his mouth and…

Dax shook his head. “Don’t,” he grunted.

No tears, no sneers, no mockery, not even a smirk—just the cold, unemotional expression Wendell was used to. Dax’s tone, however, lacked any hint of anger, ridicule or sarcasm. “You were right to be mad, kid. I woulda been.” He looked away, scratching the scruff on his chin, “The fact is, I letcha down when it mattered most. Won’t happen again.”

He stared up at Wendell, his teeth clenched as if her were angry at the thought he held inside. “Not if I get ta choose.”

Wendell stood there, feeling…well, awkward. What do you say to something like that? Since he didn’t have a clue how to respond. Any ideas he did have, seemed inadequate. So he folded his arms in as manly a fashion as he could and blurted out, “Right.”

Ungh. That sounded stupid. He cleared his throat, “Good. Ok then.” Great, now you sound arrogant. He huffed. Oh never mind.

Dax smirked and walked off to collect more blankets.

Chuck threw Wendell a smug look of his own. “I bet that didn’t hurt a bit, now, did it?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying…”

King Robert strode across the courtyard, accompanied by Lady Tamorah and Animal. “We have a new challenge, old man,” he said aloud, guiding the wizard by the elbow, away from the steps and out of earshot of the women and children.

Wendell and Alhannah followed.

“The pass has been completely closed off.” The lines in his forehead deepened, “Thule apparently had this planned from the start. He sent soldiers up over the mountain range before we could evacuate the town.”

“To cut off our escape,” breathed the wizard. His eyes glazed over in deep thought.

“I can send a few out to test the ground,” added Animal, speaking directly to the wizard.

“They’ll be slaughtered,” challenged Tamorah, but the mountain man ignored her. His eyes stayed on Chuck.

“I don’t think this just has to do with escape,” Wendell butted in.

When when everyone looked over at him, he realized what he’d been thinking had actually popped out of his mouth.

“Why would you think that, Wendell?” asked Alhannah.

“Well,” he shrugged, now feeling self conscious, “it just doesn’t make sense, does it? From what I’ve seen, these creatures, the Vallen—happen to be flesh eaters. They’re almost psychotic about it. Obsessed.” His stomach twisted at the memories of Livi hanging from the Vallen’s fist. “Just hours ago, they tried to eat a little girl…hungry for,” he gulped, “younger, softer flesh.”

He looked around the group and found blank stares.

“Oh, come on! Think about it,” he prodded, “the only ones left are women and children? When that’s what these things love to eat? Not like a five year old can outrun or outfight a giant. Right? These kids were meant to make it back here.”

“It puts more stress on us,” added Alhannah, “shift our focus, maybe? Make us careless?” She looked back at the last of the children being led into the Keep, “So, they all ran back here without help?”

“Not…exactly,” said King Robert. “They were led back by a young lady. A girl. Tough,” he added, “Fought side by side with the men at first. When she saw the battle going ill, she drove the women and children back to Til-Thorin as the men held off the enemy.”

“Wow,” breathed Alhannah, “now there’s someone I’d like to meet.”

“You will,” answered the King, “because she asked for you specifically, Alhannah.”

The gnome frowned, “She…wha—huh?”

Lady Tamorah motioned to a girl at the base of the stairs. “There she is now.”

“Well I’ll be,” laughed the gnome. Alhannah’s leather glove flicked out and slapped Chuck across the calf, “Oh, you’re good, old man.” She shook her head in disbelief and shock, then laughed even louder. “Too good.”

Wendell’s heart beat so fast, he thought it would burst through his chest. Striding across the courtyard, her long, dark, curly hair, bounced across her shoulders. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life.

The girl of his dreams.

“Gentlemen,” smirked Alhannah, “I’d like you to meet Lili.”