A Measure of Disorder

  Two people-sized pillars emerged from the canal.

  Jenni smiled at them. “Great! We’re leaving the boat and going into the city, can you fit in these?” She waved the empty bottles in her hands.

  Charles and Bonnie swirled and frothed.

  “Okay, I don’t know if that’s yes or no, but here goes.” She leaned over as far as she could and held the bottles out. Water flowed into each and the forms dropped away.

  Jenni capped the bottles and put them in one of the bags she carried. “All right, I guess we’re good to go.”

  Matt created a stone plank from the boat to the street, and they stepped from it with a helping hand from Captain Herina. It felt good to be on solid ground after almost two straight days on the water.

  “What about the boat?” Denny asked.

  Jenni looked to Captain Herina.

  The Captain eyed the stone craft uncertainly. “Let me see what I can do.”

  “Thank you,” Jenni said.

  Captain Herina indicated the street. “If you will follow me, I’ll get you set up in a guest house not far from here.”

  They walked about three blocks and turned to the left down a smaller side street. The sun was setting and street lamps flickered on, keeping everything well lit. The streets had a gentle curve to them, echoing the circular shape of the moat surrounding the city.

  The Captain turned to a door of a two story building, not far from the canal, and pulled a thin chain dangling from the left side. The tinkle of a small bell sounded from somewhere within. Shortly thereafter, the door opened and an Elvorstrastenai woman stood before them.

  She was dressed in simple, functional clothes of tans and browns and wore a white apron over them. She had blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and softly pointed ears, just like Marco and Carrie. She was only an inch or two taller than Jenni.

  The woman glanced at Captain Herina, then surveyed Jenni and her friends. Jenni was sure they made an odd-looking bunch.

  “What can I do for you, Captain?” the woman asked.

  “Good evening, Matron,” Captain Herina began. “We have some new visitors to Seren’naie, and I wondered if you have room to put them up for a while?”

  The woman looked at Jenni and the others again before answering. “I generally don’t receive any of the small folk, but if it is their desire to stay together, I suppose I can make do.” She opened the door fully and stepped aside.

  Captain Herina turned back to them. “I will alert the Mayor and the Council of your presence and desires. You should be hearing from someone soon.” She saluted them again as she had at the tower and strode purposefully down the street.

  Jenni shrugged. “I guess this is home sweet home for now.”

  “Whatever,” Sara said. “I’m starving.”

  “You’re always starving,” Jenni replied with a laugh.

  Merlin swooped down and landed on Jenni’s shoulder. Tori thankfully bopped him on the head before he could screech in her ear. He gave Tori a dirty look, but kept quiet. His talons didn’t dig into her skin … much.

  Rachael and the twins buzzed into the room, investigating every little thing. It was a sitting room, decorated with some painted artwork and several vases of fresh flowers. A bookshelf stood on the wall to their left and a stone-mantled fireplace dominated the center of the back wall. No fire was lit as the temperature outside was borderline hot. Inside the house, however, it was very pleasant. A big picture window gave a view of the street and several functional, but decorative, chairs and couches were scattered around the room.

  Once they were all inside and closed the door behind them, the woman addressed the group. “I am Guest Matron Zalandra, and this is my home. Breakfast is served an hour after dawn, and dinner is served an hour after sundown. You are on your own for a midday meal. As I told the Captain, I do not normally serve small folk, they generally prefer to stay in their own section of the city, so please don’t expect special accommodations.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Jenni and the rest replied. The tone of the Matron’s voice allowed no other response.

  “Good. Please follow me. Dinner will be served in an hour.”

  She showed them upstairs to a hallway with two rooms on each side. Each had two single-person beds, a small table and two chairs. Wood was used, but only sparingly. Almost everything was formed from rock and stone. There was a small washroom at the end of the hall.

  Jenni and Sara took the first room on the left, Marco, Denny, and Crank took the first on the right. Carrie and Faith took the one next to Jenni and Sara. Rachael and the twins just zoomed around everywhere.

  Matron Zalandra eyed Merlin on Jenni’s shoulder and spoke to Tori. “Any droppings and he stays outside. Understood?”

  Tori nodded and Merlin peeped.

  “Very well, I will see about dinner,” she stated and headed back down the stairs.

  Everyone went to their rooms and dumped their bags and packs on the floor. Sara propped her tree branch sword in the corner and flopped down on one of the beds.

  “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” she sighed.

  Jenni laughed as she pulled out Charles and Bonnie’s bottles, uncapped them and set them on the table. “We should label you two somehow,” she said. “Don’t want someone drinking you on accident.”

  The water in both bottles bubbled briefly.

  Jenni searched through a pack that contained clothing scraps and found two she thought would be suitable.

  “Okay, which one of you is Charles?” she asked.

  The bottle on the right bubbled.

  Jenni smiled and tied a red piece of cloth around the neck of the bottle. “All right, red for Charles,” she said, then tied a green piece around the other, “and green for Bonnie.”

  Both bottles bubbled their approval.

  Merlin hopped from her shoulder to the back of a chair and Tori climbed down onto the table. Jenni then grabbed a few more clothing scraps out of the pack and handed them to Tori.

  “Will these do for a bed?” she asked.

  Tori nodded. “Oh yeah, that’ll be fine,” she said, smiling at Jenni. “I think Merlin and I will just stay up here for dinner if that’s okay. Might be better that way.”

  Jenni giggled. “You’re probably right. I’ll save you some and bring it up.”

  Jenni went downstairs and found the dining room around the corner from the staircase. Marco, Carrie, Denny, and Crank met her there. Sara had fallen asleep once she hit the bed.

  Dinner was served by Matron Zalandra herself, and consisted of a vegetable soup, warm bread and a slice of meat. Jenni wasn’t sure what the meat was; it was a little gamey for her taste, but she thought Sara would probably like it. The soup and bread were good and she had second helpings of both. Tolenton’naie was tasty and filling, but it was nice to have some variety.

  Marco tried to ask some questions about the city, but didn’t have much luck getting information out of Matron Zalandra.

  “The Captain will report to the proper authorities. Best thing to do will be to sit tight and wait for your summons,” she said, and that seemed to be the end of that.

  They finished the dinner quietly, and Jenni asked if she could take a plate upstairs. Matron Zalandra scowled, but allowed it as long as she brought the plate back straight away. Jenni assured her she would, and hurried up to deliver the food.

  Sara did indeed like the meat and grumbled that there wasn’t more before she laid down and fell asleep again. Merlin picked at the left over scraps, and Tori enjoyed the bread and had some Tolenton’naie they still had in their bags.

  Jenni returned the plate and thanked Matron Zalandra before going up to get some sleep. The bed was soft and warm and Jenni had no trouble closing her eyes.

  23

  Brandon surveyed the ground far below and saw he was leaving the Lodir’naie forest behind. He began a slow descent to the west, following the same river they had when they left Crank’s village.

  This flight had prove
d smoother and easier than his first trip. He had stopped briefly to the north of the forest to hunt and rest the previous day. He flew much faster now than he had before.

  A few hours later, he was within sight of the western mountain range where he and the class had first arrived. Crank’s village was just a few miles east of those mountains. That time seemed long ago to Brandon, even though it had been only a few weeks. So much had changed in such a short span.

  The afternoon sun was bright in his eyes, but a dark spot on the ground ahead drew his attention. He focused on it and realized it was smoke, and it was coming from the village.

  He angled north, intending to circle the area and have a good look before landing.

  Brandon glided in and details became visible. Several plumes of smoke rose from the earthen mounds of the small community. The fires had burnt themselves out for the most part. He banked left and looked for movement. He saw a few charred bodies but the area seemed deserted.

  Worried for his friends, Brandon didn’t waste any more time aloft. He landed heavily near where the box had been that powered the village’s defenses. In its place was a small crater and the grass surrounding it was charred black.

  The smell of smoke and burnt flesh assaulted his nostrils and he snorted reflexively. The bodies he could see were all too small to be his friends, so he investigated further.

  Using his large, taloned arms, he dug through the ruined mounds, searching for anything that might give him an idea of what had happened to his friends. He found a few more small bodies, along with furniture and tools, but no evidence of Mike or Scott. He called their names several times with no response.

  Growing frustrated, he widened his search, and noticed a large number of tracks headed away from the village to the northwest. The tracks were too big to be village residents, probably the attackers heading home after their victory, he guessed.

  It was growing dark, but he didn’t want to chance losing this one lead. Brandon leapt up and his wings churned the air. He followed the tracks toward the mountains.

  He passed over the lake where they had arrived, and picked up the trail again off the northern shore. Soon after, he saw the lights of a few campfires in a clearing of trees.

  Brandon judged there to be twenty or twenty-five Gobinstratstorai in the camp. He could have killed them all easily, but he needed information.

  He banked and dove, breaking his speed at the last second with several strong strokes from his wings, and landed at the edge of the clearing.

  The blasts of air knocked over those closest to him and sent the others scurrying for cover. He allowed them time to recover before speaking. “I’m not here to attack you, I just need to ask you some questions.”

  The Gobinstratstorai looked at him warily, but eventually crawled out of their hiding places to stand uneasily before him. Nearly all were the smaller versions, standing four to five feet in height. Only a couple were the larger, more muscular types, like Kim. They wore dirty brown clothing of rough linen. Except for one in the back he noticed with a torn and slightly faded floral print dress.

  Brandon pointed with a claw to the figure in the dress. “You, where did you get that?”

  She stepped forward and faced him with a scowl. “That’s none of your business!”

  The voice was gravelly, but still familiar. “Mrs. Minch?” Brandon asked astounded. “Is that you?”

  Her eyes narrowed and glared at him. “How do you know me? Who are you?”

  Brandon laughed, he couldn’t help himself, and she glared even more. “It’s Brandon, Mrs. Minch. I’m Brandon.”

  One of the large Gobinstratstorai to his right gasped. “Brandon?” it said in a deeper version of Mike’s voice.

  Brandon laughed again and reunions began all around. One of the smaller Gobinstratstorai turned out to be Scott. He had found his friends, not as he’d expected, but he’d found them nonetheless.

  Slowly, as night descended, they caught each other up on the events of the past few weeks.

  The Nomenstrastenai of Crank’s home had taken care of the four of them — Mike, Scott, Mrs. Minch, and Deena — and nursed their wounds for several days after Brandon and the others had left for Seren’naie. Then the changes began to occur in the four of them, and the villagers got worried. They were kept sedated. They woke only to be fed and sedated again.

  As the changes continued, the three — Mike, Scott, and Mrs. Minch — found themselves bound hand and foot when they woke for feedings. Deena was left alone since she was becoming Faerstrastenai, and the residents didn’t see her as a threat. Mrs. Minch became increasingly angry because of their condition — she blamed the transformations on the villagers — and they had forced Carrie to go with the main group instead of staying with her. Mike and Scott didn’t know what to make of the changes and were fearful of them, as well as what the Nomenstrastenai might do to them.

  Days passed. Deena shrank to a tiny size and grew small wings. They only saw her occasionally after her wings were strong enough to allow her to fly.

  Mrs. Minch had begun to hear whispers, she said, about that time. Eventually, she realized they were coming from invisible creatures in and around the village. Spirits, they called themselves, and they were trapped by the Nomenstrastenai and forced to do their bidding. One in particular was a spirit of fire, held inside the box that powered the defense field.

  Then, the remains of the Gobinstratstorai group that had attacked the class outside of Lodir’naie returned, licking their wounds. On their way past, they scouted the village and saw three of their brethren — Mike, Scott, and Mrs. Minch, whose transformations were complete — were being held captive by the Nomenstrastenai. This infuriated them and they laid siege to the small community.

  Crank’s people were beside themselves by this point, arguing about what to do with the three of them, and how to handle the group of angry Gobinstratstorai outside their homes. They had stopped trying to keep the three sedated and Mrs. Minch used the time to learn more from the spirits, including how to undo the bindings that kept the spirits under the control of the village.

  Two nights ago, she had successfully released the spirit trapped in the defense mechanism. It had exploded in fiery wrath, and the Gobinstratstorai had seen their opportunity for revenge. Brandon had seen the deadly aftermath.

  “And good riddance I say.” Mrs. Minch spat. “They shouldn’t have separated Carrie from me. Now I may never find her!”

  Brandon tried to calm her down. “Well, we know where they were headed, and I bet Mogritas can help.” Brandon then relayed his story.

  “This is all so crazy,” Scott said afterward.

  Brandon sighed. “I’m going to go hunt and get some rest. I’ll come back in the morning and we can be on our way.”

  The Gobinstratstorai leader stepped up to him and spoke. “Great One, please don’t take our Strodin’i away from us.”

  “Your what?”

  “Our Strodin’i. One who talks to spirits. Our clan has not had one in generations. With her, we can become powerful again.” His eyes gleamed.

  “Well, the way I see it,” Brandon replied, “it’s pretty much up to her — but enough for now, we’ll talk more tomorrow, I’m tired and hungry.” With that, Brandon leapt into the air and flew away from the camp.

  * * * *

  Brandon had found a small herd of deer not far off and had eaten well. He slept longer than he’d intended and didn’t wake until midmorning.

  He flew back to the camp and found everyone waiting for him.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Brandon said sheepishly. “I slept in.”

  Mrs. Minch looked up at him with her large ears and greenish skin. “The clan wants to go with us. I am evidently very important to them.”

  “And you’re okay with that?” Brandon asked.

  She let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t care. I just want someplace with a real bed and a good hot meal. And a bath.” She wrinkled her nose as she said the last.

&
nbsp; “Okay.” Brandon turned to the clan leader. “I can’t carry all of you — three more at most, besides my friends. So decide who will ride and the rest can start walking.”

  The Gobinstratstorai talked amongst themselves briefly, then the leader and two others stepped forward.

  “All right,” Brandon announced. “Let’s get moving. Climb aboard.” He bent down to allow them to get on.

  Once everyone was settled, he yelled, “Hang on!” and heaved himself up, flapping his wings as hard as possible. Once he had altitude, he relaxed and found a good air current to ride with little effort.

  Funny as it seemed, he was looking forward to getting back to his cave. He wanted to show Mogritas his discovery of the library. Brandon was sure Mogritas would be able to read what was there. Maybe he could find out more about the dragons and their abilities. The illusory wall in his cave fascinated him — did a dragon make it? Would he be able to perform magic like that? These thoughts filled his head as he carried his passengers east, back to the castle, and home.

  24

  Alisha was so bored!

  She had spent a couple of days in her quarters resting, but that had quickly grown tedious. She had listened to every song in her considerable play list on her MP3 player, and had done and redone her hair as many times as she could stand. Meals had been brought to her rooms, and they were good, though she really only picked at them in boredom. Finally, she had decided to go out and explore, since she’d evidently been forgotten.

  The castle was enormous. Mazes of passageways led to countless towers and other buildings. She had gotten lost frequently and had to be escorted back to her quarters by some servant or guard. Still, she had continued her explorations, having nothing else to pass the time.

  She hadn’t seen any of her companions in days, weeks possibly — she had lost track — when she’d stumbled upon a huge greenhouse. The roof was made of glass or some kind of crystal, and was filled with all kinds of fruit and vegetable plants. Inside it was warm and humid.

  Alisha was turning to leave when she saw a small, familiar figure to her right.

  “Maggie?” she asked tentatively.

  The Faerstrastenai looked up and saw Alisha, a smile spreading across her face. “Alisha! Where have you been?”