FLIGHT TO THE WOODS
August 22/23
Electrum inhaled the Tween World night air as he flew behind Silverthorn. It had been two days since they received the news about Ragnar’s ship. Electrum was short on sleep. His trip to the Gold Realm had not helped. The three bedraggled pollywogs had made it safely home and were the talk of the docks.
He had been pestered with questions and interruptions as he made his way to Mirta’s shop. His visit with her had raised more questions than supplied answers.
The Silver Harbor tapestry had been marked with a special tag and shipped on the Salamander. Various colored glowstone chips had been woven into the cloth, but Mirta was vague about why. It wouldn’t be easy to duplicate it.
Most exciting was her admission that the gatekeepers had commissioned the tapestry. He still didn’t know if Simon was one of them or just their messenger. If he and Silverthorn could find the Salamander, maybe it would reveal more answers.
For now, just keeping up with Silverthorn on this salvage adventure took all his strength. They left the Passage River behind and flew over the trees toward the clearing.
Silverthorn paused on the footbridge so Electrum could catch his breath. The pookah stretched his stiff muscles. The flowing water was dark. Shadows blurred the banks and made the bridge feel like an island.
“You said Ragnar left the ship cloaked,” Electrum said. “That was two days ago. The light in this world is already weakening the cloak. Once that is gone, it will dissolve.”
“That means we have to get whatever you want off it tonight,” Silverthorn said.
“You do know where he took it?”
“I know the general direction.”
“This is a big world.” Electrum was dismayed and weariness swept over him.
“I know. Big people. Big houses...”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Come on.” Silverthorn flew out of the trees and led the way over the pumpkin patch. The pookah followed trailing thought dust.
They passed several branches lying on the ground, but none of them were birch. Silverthorn slowed and pointed at an old house. Electrum’s stomach tightened. It was Trevor’s house.
Brownie was in the yard stalking lightening bugs. The grass was mottled with shadows. A birch branch lay under the maple tree.
“There,” Silverthorn said pointing. “That’s it.”
To the outside world it looked like a broken branch, but as soon as they landed on it the image shifted and they were standing on the deck of Ragnar’s ship.
“I’ll keep watch,” Silverthorn said. “You check storage.”
Electrum hurried past barrels trying to read labels in the fading light. He stopped and glanced around. Ragnar often had glowstones in his shipments. There. A barrel with faint light coming through the cracks.
Using his dagger he opened it and grabbed a glowstone, then quickly reset the lid. Wanting to keep his hands free, he lodged the stone in the top of his hat. Its light now sparkled with dust that had gathered on the brim, but it gave him enough light to find the crate marked textiles.
He pried it open. Inside was a pile of rolled bundles. He pawed through them until he found several having Mirta’s trademark. One was wrapped in a brown cloth and addressed to Simon. He stuffed the glowstone in the end of the covering leaving traces of sparkling dust on the cloth.
Puffing, he trotted back. “Got it,” he said
“The kitten is almost full grown,” Silverthorn said.
Electrum paused and looked at Brownie. “It would never have worked,” he said softly. “They are too hard to communicate with. There just wasn’t enough time.”
He shifted the bundle and rested the end on the railing. It was better this way. It would have been harder to have built up hope and then failed. He was startled when the front door banged open. Trevor came out, and Brownie dashed back to the porch to meet him.
Trevor picked up the cat and stroked his fur as he spoke quietly. Brownie listened to the soft voice, his quiet purr fading in and out on the breeze.
The pookah shifted positions. At their first opportunity, they needed to leave. This was taking longer than he had anticipated. There was a snapping noise and he spun around. The deck shifted and he grabbed the bundle as it started to slide off the side. Where was Silverthorn?
Brownie jumped down and was stalking fireflies again. Trevor stared at the ship. Electrum inched forward and the deck tilted. The movement caught the boy’s attention. Electrum froze, but Trevor was distracted when sparkles filled the air.
Thin lines of silver light hung in the air a few feet away from him. A green face appeared. The boy sucked in his breath and blinked several times. Silverthorn’s green and brown arms spread out to balance, and the transparent wings beat steadily.
Electrum was stunned. What was he doing? Sprites never showed themselves on purpose. This wasn’t the plan. Brownie slipped across the grass and focused on the sprite. His tail twitched and he crouched ready to spring.
Electrum shouted, “Don’t eat that one. He’s poison.”
Trevor backed up. With a yell, he tumbled backward onto the grass.
Electrum wrapped his arms around the bundle and leaped into the air. “Now you’ve done it,” he called to Silverthorn. “To the trees!”
A weaving trail of sparkling dust drifted out behind the pookah as they flew toward the woods. The rug threw him off balance and he was having difficulty maintaining altitude.
Silverthorn glanced back. “Slow down. The cat is following us.”
“Slow down! What do you mean slow down?” Brownie trotted through the grass after them, but a dark form rose from the grass and followed behind.
“So is the boy,” Electrum said. “We have to get to the woods and hope they lose interest.”
Silverthorn took the bundle and led the way. Relieved of the extra weight, the pookah was able to keep up. The grass blurred beneath them as their wings cut through the air propelling them forward. The sounds of thumping feet behind them grew louder.
“Wait Brownie,” Trevor called. His voice sounded too close.
Electrum’s heart beat in rhythm with his wings. As they entered the woods a branch snapped against the bundle and the glowstone tumbled out. Silverthorn hesitated. “Leave it,” Electrum said. They entered the clearing. “Higher,” he gasped. “Up the tree.”
“Cats can climb trees,” Silverthorn said.
“He won’t know which one we’re in if we get there in time. Fly!”