**
Back in Rosewood Andin looked through the telescope and was impressed with what Fake had made, “You’re getting good at this.”
“Thank you,” acknowledged Fake. The image went fuzzy as Fake started kicking at a pair of ferrets rummaging through his bag. “Get away you misfits,” he demanded.
“They’re you in rodent form,” teased Andin.
Andin looked at the copy of the map the cartographers had given him. “Here, this drawing of the tree means something of interest,” pointed out Fake who joined him.
Andin looked at the symbol, “It looks the same as the rest of them.”
Fake smiled, “Ah that’s the point; the untrained eye sees another tree signaling more forest, which considering the plane we’re in, is quite expected.” Andin was stunned at how ubiquitous the Express really was, he thought it an amateur mistake to have missed it. “See here, the rest of the trees on the map look identical to the one in the legend,” explained Fake. He was thrilled the normally perceptive prince hadn’t picked up on any of this, “Whereas this one has a third branch drawn; which is a costly pen stroke for a mapmaker drawing an entire map of a forest plane.”
“So what is it?” asked Andin.
“Well, if the cartographers hid any more information in the map it could be traceable, we’ll just have to go look.”
Andin was eager to distract himself from the frightening realization that someone had figured out how to control portals before Beldur even knew it could truly be done. Fake had confirmed the stowaway theory of the mysterious man before they had even left the Silver Chain. The very same smugglers who had given him passage had also sailed Fake and Andin to Carmen Island.
A handful of loggers had taken a break off of the path the two friends walked down. “Oi! Heroes of the Hinge!” saluted one of them holding his half eaten sandwich aloft.
Andin nudged Fake, “I know you want to; go on, give them a show.” Fake obliged and sent his sand at them in the forms of beautiful women.
The loggers cat called and cheered as they walked by. Fake’s illusions dissolved and the loggers sang, “Heroes of the Hinge, the two great friends; scum pirates ye singed, blessed by the winds.” As they walked further into the woods
Fake noted, “It’s noon and they were drinking… I love sailors.”
Andin agreed, “Me too.”
The sun reached the horizon the same time they reached the point of interest on the map. They looked around for a few minutes at seemingly inconspicuous forest. After a few minutes of searching through the twilight they found nothing.
“Maybe we’re in the wrong spot,” said Fake.
Craning his neck Andin said, “My dad always used to say; when in doubt, look up.”
“Like to the stars?”
Andin scrunched his face, “What? No, buddy, he can turn into a dragon; he can fly, he meant look up for him.”
“Wait, can you turn into a dragon?”
Andin kept the contemptuous look, “No, and don’t say that you can, that doesn’t count. Besides I’m taller than he is, so it all works out.”
Fake didn’t understand, “What’s put you in a goofy mood?”
“Look up!” shouted Andin.
Fake saw the small network of tree houses and asked, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Andin pulled a few stones out of the soil and tossed one to Fake, “Let’s check it out.” At the prince’s command the stones lifted them up to the lowest platform of the tree houses.
“I think I’m going to start keeping some of my sand in a container again so I can lift myself,” said Fake.
“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask, how much more sand do you keep on yourself now?”
“About five times as much,” said Fake in the exact opposite of modesty.
“Nice.”
They walked around the small wooden houses. There was only darkness behind the windows. “This place looked nicer from the ground,” said Fake. “I don’t think anyone has been here for years,” said Andin. Rodents fled as the prince opened the door. Dust and tree pollen covered everything.
Fake joined him inside the small shack. “They say the mortals who leave for the wild planes never last long on their own,” said Andin.
“Why is that?” asked Fake. Andin shrugged. They split up to search the remaining cottages. Fake shouted, “Andin come look at this.”
“What is it?”
“I saw it through the window, the door is barred.”
The well decayed corpse of a man sat holding a frayed book. Fake’s sand cut through the door granting them entrance. Andin lit the room and examined the rotted skeleton. “I thought it would smell worse,” observed Fake.
There was a small hole in the man’s skull. “Well I think I know how he died,” said Andin.
The fire prince grabbed the book to check it. He leafed through the first few pages, “Like I thought, he was a Drojji.”
“Is that what these are for then?” asked Fake holding up a glass tube filled with sheets of rolled metal.
“Yes, lightning users can use those as lamps,” answered Andin looking up from the book. “Oh he didn’t come here voluntarily; he and his small group were exiled,” summarized Andin. “Apparently, it was the fault of some woman called Numillai – some sort of legal official by the sound of it. It’s dated year eight hundred forty-five. So they first came here seventy-nine years ago.” He flipped towards the middle. “Last entry is eleven years after they arrived.”
Fake leaned in, “Does it say what happened?”
Andin sat down to better focus on the journal before realizing the corpse was still in the room with them, occupying the very chair he had intended to use. “Let’s go outside,” he suggested.
“Good idea; I’m going to check the other houses,” said Fake. Andin gave Fake a torch and sat at the edge of the platform with his feet dangling over the forest floor.
A few minutes later the illusionist returned, “I found another journal, and you’ll want to look at one of these houses – it’s creepy.”
Andin guessed, “It might be our dead guy’s place, the last few pages are really difficult to follow, lots of references to a liar and a deceiver.”
Fake nodded, “It won’t be hard for you to guess what’s carved into the desk in his room then. “What else did you find out?” he asked.
“Well eleven years after these people were exiled from Drojj a portal opened up, but they never saw anyone come through. After the portal opened their little commune began tearing itself apart.”
“They never went through to check?” asked Fake.
“They did, that’s the strange thing; he wrote that the portal didn’t work, they would cross through and up right back in Rosewood. Eventually, they started killing each other and this guy was the last one alive. He said they had been lied to, deceived; he says it over and over in the end.”
“You think they opened up to the Plane of Deceit?” asked Fake.
“It seems that way; there is so little information about Deceit. This man’s last entry sums it up really: The lies, the lies, the lies, the dirty lies, the clever lies, the tricky lies, the lies screeching in my head; and I’m going to dig them out… goodbye little lies, little lies, little lies.” Fake made a sour face as Andin read aloud.
“Let’s go back to the camp,” said Fake feeling ill.
“You don’t want to spend the night here?” asked Andin sarcastically.
“You can stay if you like,” quipped the illusionist.
“Are you kidding? This place is awful,” laughed Andin as he jumped fifty feet to the ground. Fake waited for Andin to send him a stone to ride down. “What are you waiting for?” he asked.
“For you to use your sand, princess,” said Andin.
“It’ll slip through my fingers… it’s sand,” replied Fake.
“You control it; you can do it.”
Andin raised layered sheets of dirt, “Here, this will slow your fall if you
can’t do it.” Fake sighed; he knew he had to try for his friend. His jacket melted into two hand holds. He pushed against them to check they were solid. Fake’s eyes were glued shut and his decent was excessively slow. “Are you serious?” asked Andin in disbelief. “I’m never lifting you again,” he added.
The fire prince sent a streak of flame towards Fake still nervously lowering himself from the treetops. Fake crashed through Andin’s sheets of dirt and stopped with a thump on the forest floor. The illusionist brushed the dirt and leaves off himself and threatened, “I’ll get you for that.” Andin felt secure despite the threat.
“Let’s get back,” said the prince.
They continued walking and joking through the evening until they arrived back at camp. Andin yawned, “Well I think that just about does it for me; we can check the next point on the map tomorrow.” Andin headed up his hill and Fake headed into the main camp.
The fire prince fell fast asleep until he was awoken just before dawn. “Prince Andin, I’m sorry, wake up please,” said a whisper.
Andin groaned in protest, “What?”
The whisper went on, this time more urgently, “Prince Andin, please wake up.”
Andin sat up and asked, “Who is it?”
“It’s Peri,” she whispered.
Andin lit a small fire in his hand, it was her. He looked confused, “What are you doing here?”
She whispered angrily, “You broke my ankle and that’s what you say to me?”
Andin immediately felt guilty for forgetting about the duel, “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
She moved closer to the fire prince but didn’t touch him or the bed. “It’s alright I forgive you, I’m better now,” she whispered. She moved in to kiss him. Andin screamed as her flesh tore and burst into an angry eyed demoness. Her skin dripped a nasty fluid as she howled at him. The fire prince had fallen off of the bed in a scramble to escape the beast. Andin overcame his fear and conjured his sickles to slay the monster.
The moment the prince stood ready to fight the demoness evaporated to the sound of Fake’s laughter. Between fits the illusionist squeezed out, “You… should’ve… seen the look… on your face!” Fake’s eyes teared up as the prince tried to wind himself down from the faux attack.
“That was…” stammered Andin in disbelief. “That was you?” he finally managed.
“Obviously,” giggled Fake.
Andin sighed and collapsed on his bed, “You’re evil you know that?”
“You started it,” countered Fake.
“And you finished it,” said a shaken Andin. Fake’s prank debt was now paid in full.
“Here, I’m sorry; I needed it to wake up while it was still dark,” apologized Fake as he tossed Andin his chronometer. Andin wondered how Fake had managed to steal it. “Come on we both know you won’t sleep after that; let’s just get going.”
“Yeah,” agreed Andin as he dressed and nervously laughed with his friend.