225) The Salvation of Eden, Chapter 51 -- A Horse, A Quest, A New Friend, and A Mysterious Villain

Banter flowed past Kohra, like water around a stone lodged in a stream-bed, the others reminiscing about their heroics and all that they had endured to get to this point. But Kohra wasn’t listening to them at all.

If a good question is “What would be the right question?” then…maybe what I should be focusing on is WHY I ask the questions that I do. Why do I value asking theoretical questions in the first place? 

Are these questions I’m asking Grok even authentic? Do I genuinely care? Or am I just engaging in intellectual games? Am I merely trying to impress her? Or am I just pretending to be “deep”? 

Maybe I’m even pretending to myself.

But I do want to understand better! I’m damn near useless, when it really counts. Like today, I couldn’t Shape even to save Melkorn. Without Lenny and Dev, I can barely even Connect to the Flux. And even at my best, I’m way behind Dev. And Lenny? She’s on a whole different level from both of us. 

Anyway….

Maybe I’m the only one who can “answer” my own questions, because I’m the only one who can change my reasons for asking them. 

I can change this, can’t I? Change my need to ask these questions? 

Maybe asking “deep questions” is itself a delusion. Maybe I just THINK I’m doing something useful by thinking all the time.  But really, I’m just sitting around thinking!

As Kohra plumbed the depths of her self-doubting angst, Grok turned to the others. “Perhaps it’s time now. So my new friends, what brings you all the way out here to my humble mountain home?”

Everyone hesitated, fidgeting, realizing that they hadn’t even considered what to say about their Quest, who they were, or pretty much anything else. 

Gorb cleared his throat and straightened a little. “I am a LightSinger. Dat is, kind of. Y’see, I used t’be. Uh…we’rrrre on a Quest!” 

She cocked one eyebrow, smirking just enough that one of her dimples showed. “What’s a LightSinger?” she asked, seemingly innocent.

He paused. “Like a…Shaman…o’ d’Light.”

She looked pointedly at his wine glass and laughed. “Shaman of DeLight indeed!” Lenny snickered. Then everyone snickered.

“Aye, ’tis trrrue….” He shook his head, chuckling at himself.

He tried again. “I’m, we’rrre on a Quest. Uh, forrr d’Light.” (A smatter of titters; Gorb ignored them.) 

“Dis quest is top Secrrrret. If we tell ye, it might put ye at rrrrisk.”

Grok, watching him carefully, nodded. “I accept the risk, Shaman of Delight. I will hold your Secret.”

Gorb looked around at each person. They all nodded. Lenny nodded a little extra-vigorously, raising her glass for a “Cheers!” to nobody in particular. Kohra wondered momentarily how much Lenny had drunk.  Her own mind felt a little fuzzy, and everything did seem funnier than usual. 

Well, who cares? To the Hells with worrying! We’re on a Quest!

“Okay. Dis Quest, we’rrre trrrackin’ a, errrr, a pow’rful perrrson. A crrriminal, we believe. We followed ‘im frrrom Anthor t’Annuvin. Well, de’orse anyway. We, uh, talked to ‘is ‘orse an’….” 

Frowning, he took a swig from his wine cup, looking around at the others for some help. But everyone was either also wondering what to say, or were simply having too much fun watching Gorb stumble through it, to come to his aid. 

He sighed. “‘Tis a long storrry, but we found out dis man comes ‘ere. D’orse ‘as been ‘ere beforrre. He rrrememberrred yerrr, uh, ox-frrrriends.”

Grok listened attentively, sporting an amused grin when he finished. “How you got that information from a horse….” She shook her head. “Well, no wonder Sky and Sea like you.” Then she grew serious, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “You speak of the black stallion, and the one who wears a hood?”

Gorb nodded “Aye,” as a hush settled over everyone, even Lenny.

Her face darkening, she hesitated, like she was unsure what to say, or whether to say anything at all. “I have to advise against this. I don’t believe that you fathom what you’re up against here. This person you are asking about, is highly secretive, and very, very dangerous.”

“Aye,” agreed Gorb in a sombre tone. “But I kinna stop my Quest. Follow d’light.” He shrugged, as if there was nothing more to say.

She frowned, then closed her eyes, as though she was thinking, or praying. Or Shaping.

She opened them after a few seconds, and momentarily, her eyes were blank, milky and opaque before clearing to their regular chestnut brown. She nodded appreciatively at Lenny, then looked directly at Dominic, as though she was surprised. She avoided Kohra, Gorb and Devona entirely, her tearful, too-wide eyes finally meeting Melkorn’s and Reilly’s (who was sitting on his lap at the time). Smiling warmly at Arrowhead, who was wrapped around Dominic’s shoulders, her bottom lip trembled. She looked…guilty, and deeply sad. It was weird. 

Then she smiled again, suddenly, like she was intentionally choosing to “put on a happy face” and return to her friendly-sage persona. “I agree with you, Gorb. You must follow the Light. It’s all we really have in the end, isn’t it?”

He nodded. Silence snuggled into the room, woven into their breathing and the crackling fire as though all the worlds were encapsulated in this moment, in this room, with this handful of people and two giant blue oxen-gorilla-mammoths, and they, of all beings, were presented with a Choice, the consequences of which would affect All that was to come. 

Grok took a deep breath and smiled, looking directly at Reilly. “Then I will tell you what I know. But first, do you think you could show me how you talk to his horse? I’d love to see that.”

Kohra wondered momentarily if this was a test, if maybe she wanted to see whether their story was believable. It made sense to be skeptical, after all. Especially if old Hoodie was as nasty as she said he was.

Lenny was the first to clue in. “You mean, it’s here? The horse?”

“Where?!!” Reilly jumped up, shrieking. Sea and Sky snorted uncomfortably. 

“Don’t shriek,” Grok admonished. “They have very sensitive hearing.”

Reilly nodded, still jumping up and down. “Okay!” she whispered, eyes alight. “Where is he?? Where is he??!!”

Grok took them outside, walking over to a stand of tall pine trees that started about twenty paces from Sea and Sky’s end of the Trading Post’s central building. Walking up to one of the trees, Grok reached forward and…opened a door? Kohra blinked, but sure enough, a wooden barn door had just opened up out of the pine tree, light spilling from inside what seemed to be a barn. The sharp-sweet smells of hay and manure hit a moment later, and Grok motioned them in. It was indeed a barn, large enough for several cows, four very friendly goats, an unknowable number of chickens and half a dozen shaggy black and white speckled pigs. At the far end, in a private stall separated from the other animals, stood the familiar black stallion. 

“HORSEY!!” Reilly dashed over as the horse snorted, nuzzling her like an old friend. 

The conversation that unfolded was both fascinating and hilarious to watch, as Reilly and the stallion reciprocated whinnies and neighs, lip-blowing, ear wiggling, nose flaring and foot stomping, occasionally nuzzling their heads together and turning their bodies this way and that. Finally, Reilly patted its mane and turned back to the others. 

“Horsey says he’s glad to be here again, although Coraanyan’s is warmer. His Master is gone, as usual. And he hopes he can play with Sea and Sky tomorrow! He doesn’t know where the Master goes from here, although the Master did seem really, uh, really-really-very excited on this trip, like something important is happening. And, that’s it.” 

She beamed as she concluded her summary; she was a superstar. 

They stayed with the horse for a while longer, giving it, as well as the other animals, some attention. Grok explained a little about the illusion magic that kept the barn hidden. It was a common trick for folks who lived in the Deep Wild; they needed to keep their livestock hidden, in order to keep them alive. “There’s a real market in the cities of the East especially, for items that create these permanent illusions. I picked this one up in Pendrathian, capital city of the Tendairn People, a long time ago.” 

Kohra realized suddenly that it was very similar to their Wand of Secret Camping, and wondered what this meant, but she had little time to think as the general conversation continued, and Grok finished showing them around the barn. 

Eventually, they went back to Sea and Sky’s livingroom and stretched out on soft hay by the fire. Grok steered the conversation back to the Hooded Man. “Here’s everything I know about” (she smirked at Lenny momentarily), “Hoodie. He’s lived in these parts about twelve years, or at least, I never saw him before that. We’ve never spoken, and he never shows his face. Whenever he needs to tell me something, right from the very first time we met, he writes it down on a pad and shows it to me. He does have beautiful penmanship though, like he’s taken formal lessons in calligraphy.” She paused, gathering her thoughts, looking down hesitantly as though she felt embarrassed. Or maybe guilty? 

“In my business, you can’t ask a lot of questions. After all, I don’t get many ‘normal’ customers. Normal people are living in the villages and cities, not way out here where the Wild things are. So, it’s normal for my customers to insist on strict decorum, you might say.”

“They like to decorate stuff?” Reilly asked.

Grok laughed, “Well, I don’t know, Reilly! But I just meant that they expect me to have superlative discretion.”

Reilly stared, blankly, like she was still waiting for the explanation.

“They hold their cards close to their chests?” Dominic tried. 

“You play cards with them?” Reilly asked, even more confused now.

“She means they are super-sneaky and full of secrets, Reilly,” Lenny added. Although it had been fun watching this ridiculous exchange, Lenny also got bored pretty easily.

“OHHH!!” Reilly exclaimed happily. “You could’a just said that!”

Grok suppressed a grin. “Indeed. So, yes, I am expected to respect the privacy needs of these ‘super sneaky and full-of-secrets’, uh, customers.”

She took a sip of her tea before continuing, the cup neatly levitating itself to her mouth and gently tipping at her lips. “I did wonder about him though. Not even because of his secrecy so much but, when he does leave, he heads deeper into the mountains, but he takes nothing with him, no equipment, no food, nothing except what he’s wearing. And nobody, except the Druids maybe, can survive long in these mountains without equipment and supplies. It’s just not possible.”

“He’s a Druid?” asked Reilly in surprise, frowning. 

“No!” Grok laughed. “He is no Druid, I’m pretty sure.”

“How can you tell?” Kohra asked.

She shrugged. “You just can. No self-respecting Druid would dress like him, for one thing. He looks like….” She giggled. “He looks like someone dressing up like an assassin, but for a costume party.” She laughed. “He just takes himself SOOOO seriously, always wearing that hood, always gloomy and mysterious, and always, always, always dressing in all-black:  black cloak, black furs, black leathers underneath.” She smirked. “Even Druids aren’t THAT fashion insensitive.”

Kohra stole a look momentarily at her own nondescript clothes. She never went in for a “fancy” look. Didn’t even wear much colour. She was always trying to hide herself, not attract attention, hoping to just blend in.

In her more honest moments, she knew that much of the reason was just that she didn’t know how to dress in anything more fancy or stylish, and when she tried, she always ended up looking goofy or awkward or somehow just wrong. Other people looked so crisp and new, but even when she dressed up she looked rumpled, like she’d grabbed something from the bottom of a drawer and threw it on.  Which was usually true….

“Maybe he’s in disguise?” Devona suggested.

Grok smiled politely, “Anything’s possible.”

Dominic asked, “Is he armed?”

She shrugged. “Nothing special. A bow, a sword. Pretty standard.”

“D’ye know wherrre ‘ee goes?” Gorb asked.

She hesitated, then responded in a much-lower voice. “A couple of times, I tracked him. It’s risky; if he ever back-tracked and found my trail….” She shook her head. “So, I only was able to do it when the weather was just right and I knew my trail would get buried quickly.”

“He leaves tracks from here in two directions. One is the Fallen Klliik Pass, from which you came. I assume he’s going back and forth to Annuvin or some other place.”

Gorb nodded. “Aye, Annuvin, den Anthor, ‘an ‘ee disappearrrs into de Grrreat Swamp on d’way back. ‘Is ‘orse goes to a stable, an’ stays dere, ’til ‘ee comes ‘ere.”

“What’s the second direction?” Dominic asked.

“I have only followed him as far as the Kobold Pass. It’s deadly terrain and opens into a three-way forked canyon. The west branch hides an entrance into the Kobold Empire. It’s heavily fortified, moreso than most kobold outposts, because of what’s in the middle branch.”

“The middle branch is the lair of an Ice Dragon. She’s lived here for centuries, and doesn’t leave her lair very often. Although, when it’s a hunting day and she’s on the prowl, you do NOT want to be outside.”

Kohra’s mouth went abruptly dry. “Y-you mean, there’s a DRAGON not far from here?”

Grok nodded. “I know, right? Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

“Treasure!” shouted Lenny. 

Devona’s eyes brightened. “Remember the book? It said Ice Dragons are ardent collectors of treasure.”

“Diamonds especially, wasn’t it?” Dominic asked. 

Devona nodded. “Yes! And powerful artifacts! They love Old Magic; my tutors taught me that Dragons have very big egos.”

Melkorn was looking back and forth, trying to make sense of the conversation. “So we’re going to steal from a Dragon now?” He crossed his arms, frowning.

Kohra couldn’t hold back any longer. “No!” she replied emphatically, scowling at Devona and Dominic. “Gods no! Lenny was just saying they have a lot of treasure. BUT,” she looked pointedly at each of then, “we are NOT stealing from a Dragon!”

Lenny just grinned, privately thinking to herself, Someday we will. Or I will anyway….

“What if Hoodie is working for the Dragon?” Devona asked.

Dominic shook his head. “Dragons usually stick to themselves. It’s unusual for one to be living so close to Kobolds. Unless it just keeps them around for snacks.”

  “Maybe the Kobolds then?” Devona asked. “What if he has some kind of arrangement with them? Maybe he delivers goods, or messages, between their lands and the civilized worlds.”

Grok looked skeptical. “It’s possible. I can definitely see the kobolds having use of a liaison between themselves and the more, as you say, civilized peoples. But Hoodie, as you call him, has a different air. He seems too important to be riding back and forth across deadly countryside, month after month, simply for Kobolds.”

Devona looked frustrated at having her suggestion shot down so handily. “Fine. What about the third canyon?”

Grok nodded. ”It’s a dead-end, is all I know. Steep cliff sides with a narrow crevice running zig-zag down the center. The Kobolds use it for hunting, driving large game into it and then ambushing them with archers and boulders and such from the slopes above. I’ve never gone in there. It’s a death trap.” 

“Or a secret entrance!” Lenny sing-songed from the side, toes wiggling as she warmed them by the fire.

“Or a secret entrance,” Grok agreed. 

Gorb slapped his knee. “By d’Light! Secrrrret entrrrances make ferrr a fine Quest!”

Kohra cleared her throat. “Uh, hello? Death trap?”

“Would you rather us go talk to the Dragon then? Or the Kobolds? Maybe we can just ask them?” Dominic retorted, a bit sarcastically.

Kohra didn’t respond, crossing her arms and looking down at the floor. This is insane. We’ve almost died a million times. I just want to see Mom and Dad again, and Col.  I want to go home.

She could see Gorb looking at her, trying to catch her eye but she kept him on the periphery of her vision, choosing the floor instead. Sometimes, when the world stops making sense, it feels like the only thing you can do is block it all out.

“Ye din’need t’come on my Quest, Kohrrra. I und’rrrstand. Tis been an ‘ard time.”

She forced a smile, looking up. Gorb WAStrying to be nice, after all. “Thanks Gorb. I, uh, it’s just a lot, you know? All this, and now a Dragon? I just…it’s a lot.” 

She lay back on a hay bale and tried to lose herself in the fire, but the harder she tried, the more “she” burst into the foreground, and the actual fire, the dynamic, beautiful flow of energy that she COULDhappily lose herself in for a while, faded into the vague and formless background.

Form is emptiness. Emptiness is form. 

I wonder what the connection is between “me” and “the world,” and “form” and “emptiness.” Am I “form”, emerging from emptiness? But what is emptiness anyway? Is it just whatever you think ISN’T “form”? So like, with me, if I’m the form, then the emptiness is everything that is not-me? Like, the worlds in general? 

Does this simply mean that “I” am formed out of the stuff of the worlds? So, whatever “I” do, is really just “the worlds” manifesting through this little nexus point called “Kohra”? 

But how can “I” take actions, make decisions, have a free mind, if I am merely the stuff of the external worlds? If I emerge from the worlds, am I not beholden to their laws and principles? How can there even be an “I”, if I’m just a manifestation of everything? Am I not just like a falling leaf, swirling in the wind but unable to change my own course? 

Can a single tiny particle in my own body, like a little itty bit of my brain, decide to do something? How is that possible?

Actually, that happens all the time, like Aunt Glenda’s tumour. Surely “she” didn’t choose to have a tumour. But was “she” not constituted out of the same stuff as the tumour? They — her and the tumour — were made out of her own body. And the body, isn’t that made out of the worlds? 

Maybe nothing ever really “happens.” Maybe cause and effect are all the same.

Maybe this isn’t what Form and Emptiness mean anyway. I don’t know. 

She tried to stop thinking for a while, to just stare into the flames and let her mind find some peace. 

I guess you never know, for sure, what’s the best thing to do. Or even what is the right thing to do. But you have to Choose, so I guess, you just choose, based on whatever you feel the most clearly, know the most deeply. Even if you turn out to be “wrong,” it’s still the right thing to do. Go with your heart. Act, because in truth, you are always uncertain. But you can’t wait to take action until you know for sure, because then you’ve lost the chance. 

“You grow where you’re planted,” Grandpa always said.

I think the most important thing, no, one of the most important things, is loyalty. It’s to stand with the people you love. And if you end up with your backs to the wall, at least you end up there together.

Oh Gods…. I really don’t want this stupid Quest anymore.