Chapter 21

“We’ll all sleep in here,” Thorne said gruffly as he tossed a sleeping pad to the floor in front of the room’s only door. “A geas is a dangerous spell, Mister Finn. I or Lief will keep an eye on the both of you to ensure it does not compel some action. With luck, the head mother at the temple can circumvent its power.”

Finn nodded, weary from the day. The bowl of gruel-like stew they had in the common room was sitting heavy in his stomach, reminding him of meals with his aunt as a child. Tasteless, filling, bland fare that fed a body and starved a soul.

He considered their new companions. The two rangers were strange to him, but Elara seemed comforted by them. It had been months since she saw or interacted with people from her world. He would have felt comforted if their roles were reversed.

He looked at her on the far side of the room, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to him while unlacing her knee-high moccasins. She had a small light globe shining to supplement the fading light filtering through the window. He looked down at his dirty shoes and grimaced at the dried mud atop them. The edge of his jeans were dirty as well from their trek into the village.

“How much walking will we need to do?” He asked.

Thorne looked up from his work of arranging his pallet. “A fair bit over the next two days. Why?” He asked.

Finn motioned to his feet. Thorne frowned. “The village has a cobbler, I think. If not, we may find one along the way.”

“What do you mean by ‘find one’?” Finn asked. “Don’t you know the way?”

Thorne shook his head. “The In-Between is a short-cut and a risk when traveling between or across realms. Here, the portal stones are fixed. In the other realms, they may not remain the same. Once, I ventured through a portal in the forest, arrived here, stepped back through the very same portal, and arrived two hundred leagues from where I started.”

“Then how will we get close to the temple?” Finn asked. It sounded like a random walk to him.

“There are sigils on the stones, markers, if you know what to look for,” Thorne replied. “I failed to pay attention to them on that little adventure. I know better now. I also know the seven portals, all within a two-day journey of the main temple to the Moon Goddess. I will deliver you and the Acolyte, rest assured of that, Mister Finn.”

“Just Finn, please,” he said. The formal form of address made him feel weary. Master this, mister that, acolyte, journeyman, everyone in this world seemed focused on their position within society. He would respect them but wanted no part of it.

He sat on the near edge of the bed and looked around the room once more. The air was filled with the hint of cedar, rosemary, and sage to cover the pungent smell of its occupants. It held a well-made four-poster bed. From the placement of Thorne’s and Leif’s pallets, it was obvious they intended Elara and him to have the bed. Leif was already stretched out under the windowsill, hands behind his head pillowed on a rolled-up cloak while his feet rested on the edge of his pack. A small table held a basin of water, and there was a wooden wardrobe behind a rocking chair. All the furnishings looked well cared for.

Finn sighed and began undoing his muddy shoelaces as he felt Elara shift behind him, lying flat after flipping back the blanket. Finn looked at his muddy pants, stood and shrugged them off and hung them on the bedpost before slipping under the covers as well. He had no desire to sleep in soiled and damp pants.

Elara ended her light spell, plunging the room into near darkness. The scratchy prick of rushes in the mattress poked at Finns legs as he moved them about, trying to smooth them down. Elara’s face was turned to the wall, but he felt her hand move beneath the blanket, seeking his own.

Was she attracted to him, or just compelled? He wondered. In the weeks of getting to know her, he had thought she was genuine, but Thorne’s words troubled him. He kept his fingers resting on his stomach, pondering his feelings. As dim twilight faded to darkness, he realized it did not matter. She had saved him from capture. Even if he was now lost in some strange world, she had shown him more friendship than anyone else in his life.

Silently, he slipped his hand closer to hers, letting her fingers find his own. Her gentle grasp was the reassurance he needed to finally fall asleep.

“Why isn’t the village closer to these portals?” Finn asked as they walked along a well-trodden trail through the purple and azure tasseled grass beneath the silver-leaved trees. The first twenty minutes of their hike had been spent getting used to the soft leather moccasins he now wore, as well as the leather trousers that chaffed irritatingly. His pack, while smaller than those carried by the rangers, was also something that took getting used to.

“Leif?” Thorne grunted, commanding his apprentice to answer.

“The village is about an hour’s walk from three sets of portal stones, Mister Finn. If it were next to any one of them, it would be two hours from the others. Whoever built the first village wanted it to be central to all three sets of stones,” Leif concluded from immediately behind Finn.

“Is it the only village here?” Finn asked, his natural curiosity rising to distract his body. He wished the local concept of a pack included the idea of a hip-belt. Maybe he would have an opportunity to make an addition to his luggage.

This time, Elara answered, speaking from behind Leif for the first time since leaving the village. “The In-Between fluctuates in a manner the other realms don’t,” she said. “The only constant is that there is a village for every three portal stone sets, and that villages require two days to travel between.”

“That makes no sense,” Finn insisted. “How can a village suddenly appear along with more portals?”

“Who said it was sudden?” Thorne countered. “The shifts of the In-Between can take years when viewed by travelers and from other realms. Some believe it is reactions to the tides of the Chaos Sea in the Realm of Shadows. Others attribute it to the changing will of gods in the celestial realm. We just know that villages and portal stones have risen and faded away over time.”

Finn shook his head. Yet another instance of random, crazy rules in this strange world. He was about to ask his next question when the trail turned sharply to the left and climbed a hill.

“Watch your step,” Thorne warned as he stepped over sharp rocks littering the rising pathway.

Finn could imagine the pain of stepping on any of the stones in the thin-soled footwear he now wore. The hill was not high, but the trail was steep enough to wind him on the short climb, lifting them above the crown of trees making up the surrounding forest. Finn took in the view and resisted an urge to laugh. This portal could be a circle of faerie stones from Ireland to his un-trained eye.

The stones themselves were an enchanting sight to behold. Each one was unique, their surfaces covered in intricate patterns of moss and lichen, twining together like delicate lacework against the rough, weathered stones. They ranged in size from small boulders no larger than a child to great slabs that loomed like silent guardians over the circle.

At the heart of the circle was a small pool of water, its surface still and clear, reflecting the vibrant colors of the surrounding foliage and sky like a mirror. Finn looked at the water, seeing flickers of light creating an illusion of linking pool to stone, or stone to pool. For a moment, he sensed the power flowing through the air, an otherworldly energy, a gentle hum that seemed to resonate deep within the earth itself.

The rest of the party stood in wonder and silence, taking in the peaceful tranquility of the place. Finn felt his breathing slow and heard similar quieting in his companions.

“Can you feel the energy?” Elara asked as she stepped next to him.

Finn nodded. “I can. It’s indescribable, but I sense it powers these stones or connects them all together, somehow.”

Thorne quirked an eyebrow at them. “You can sense the power, Finn?”

“Yes,” Finn replied tersely. Hadn’t he just said he could? “Why?”

Thorne looked hard at him, then at Elara, then back to Finn. “Mayhap it is a clue for what the sorcerer wants with you. Not many can feel or see the flow of power here.”

Elara’s nod gave proof to his words. “I can sense ... something, but not in detail. If you can see connections, it is a rare gift.”

Finn snorted. “A gift that I can’t harness or use. I don’t know what use such a gift might be.”

“It’s a possible piece to the puzzle you are and face,” Thorne said solemnly. “Now, let me take a look at which stone we need.”

Finn followed him, with Leif close behind. Thorne took his time, pointing out the sigils that were etched in strange places on each stone. Finn marveled at the scintillating flashes that lit each sigil embedded within the carving of the stone. He knew the others could not see what his eyes revealed.

Finally, Thorne nodded and pointed to the third-largest stone slab standing on end, angled toward the left of vertical slightly. “That is the one we want. I’ll go through first,” he announced. “Then Finn, then Acolyte Elara. Leif, you bring up the rear.”

Finn looked at the stone, its sigil, and then at the pond. It appeared as if power was flowing from the pond, into the stone, and pooling within the lines of the sigil. He wasn’t sure how he knew this, but if felt right to him, similarly to when he knew a piece of code would have the desired effect.