Aidan nodded, just as a horn blast sounded from outside.
“Our hunting party has returned, will you be joining us for dinner?” the elf asked.
Suddenly Aidan remembered the urgency of his mission. “How long did you say I was asleep?” Aidan asked.
“Three days. Why? Is there somewhere you should be?”
Aidan jumped to his feet. “I must leave immediately. Is my griffin well?”
“Yes,” Aeron said, “But your friend here will not be ready to leave for another day, at the least. Can you not wait that long?”
For a moment, Aidan considered it. His master had ordered him to bring an amogh to the isle, but that had been before his last, far more urgent message. Besides, even if Aaliyah did wake the next day, it was likely that she would be unable to travel as she was recovering from the poison that had seeped through her body.
“No, I have to leave now.”
Aeron nodded knowingly, and led Aidan outside. The elves had indeed returned, all of them clothed the same way as their chieftain. As soon as Aidan stepped out of the tent, all of them stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at him.
Aidan nervously shuffled forward, head down, behind Aeron. The gaze of the elves huge, unblinking eyes was extremely unnerving.
They came to a gate, where Aidan saw the amogh’s griffin. It was a far more expensive beast than the one that he and Aaliyah had bought, and was most likely far better trained. It was still in its saddle, where what was left of Aidan’s things had already been attached.
He awkwardly stepped up onto the griffin’s back, in the view of all the elves.
“I can never thank you enough for all you have done, Aeron.” he said.
“No,” The elf chieftain said, “Thank you, for all that you are going to do, Firebird.”
Aidan paused. “Why do you call me that?” The elf laughed. “That is a secret that only your father can tell you. Now fly!”
“My father? You know him?” Aidan said, but the griffin had already spread its wings. “Wait, what do you know-“ the beast launched itself into the sky, leaving the elf smiling on the ground.
Timothy’s griffin half landed, half crashed into the ground outside the safety sphere, totally exhausted. Its rider jumped off the beast and ran to the edge of the giant blue bubble as fast as his sore legs would carry him. He could already feel that the spell work in this sphere was far more complex than its predecessor’s. As far as he could tell, it was tied to every single mage, wizard, and warlock who entered it, and could not be destroyed without the consent of every member. No more would a lone, overpowered warlock be able to dismantle the entire shield with a single spell.
As an added precaution, mages and wizards had been put on guard duty, patrolling the inside edge of the safety sphere at all times. Currently, a young boy was “guarding,” by falling asleep leaning on his staff.
“Hey, wake up. This is urgent!” Timothy yelled. The mage on the other end continued to sleep, blissfully unaware of the noise muffled by the sphere.
Timothy rolled his eyes. “Ingo.”
I fireball arced from his staff into the sky, exploding over the camp for extra effect.
The boy fell off his staff as a horde of wizards ran to the edge of the sphere, led by Malachi, whose face betrayed his delight.
“Timothy! How are you?” he yelled.
“I’m okay! Can you let me in?” the apprentice yelled back.
Malachi said something to the sorcerers behind him that Timothy couldn’t hear, and then snapped at the sphere, causing a small gap to appear.
“I need a bigger hole, I have a griffin,” Timothy said.
“Oh.” Malachi said, blinking his left eye, then his right. The hole widened enough to allow the griffin and boy through.
Timothy had barely made it through the makeshift door when he was hit from the side by a flying hug.
“Eleanor! I missed you.”
“When we didn’t hear anything, they thought you were dead. But I knew you would come back,” the girl said, never letting go.
“As did I,” Malachi said, embracing both mages.
“Bartemus told me to bring this to you,” Timothy said, wiggling out of his friends’ arms. He handed the envelope to Malachi, who quickly scanned it, a concerned look filling his face.
“Timothy, does your father have any large boats in the area right now?”
The mage nodded. “He always keeps at least one to the north of Gurvinite. Why?”
Malachi turned to a wizard that Timothy didn’t know. “Get the battle robes ready. We’re going to war.”
18
The isle was quiet, waves quietly lapping the shore. In the past fifty years, palm trees, grass, and other shrubs had begun to grow amongst the ash and dried lava. The isle had once sported a small stone hut in the center of the mile long island, but after the eruption that destroyed Malcommer’s army it had been covered in ash and lava, and now resembled a small black hill. Normally, seabirds and other fowl chattered to each other amongst the trees, but on the day that Aidan’s griffin gracefully landed on the black ground the air held a heavy silence, as if waiting for the life that had just begun to grow to be mercilessly destroyed again.