added. “It changes everything.”
“Kestrel,” Wren’s voice called from Greta’s home, “come see!”
Ashen and concerned, Kestrel turned. “There’s nothing we can do to change it?” he asked.
“The gods themselves cannot change this, Kestrel friend,” Stillwater replied.
Shocked, Kestrel strolled over to the door of the cabin, where a small crowd of gnome women were also waiting. Hansen stepped in front of Wren, and displayed two rotund babies, one held in each of his arms.
“Twins!” Wren declared. “A boy and a girl, and Greta is doing fine.”
The women at the door crowded close, oohing and ahhing as they examined the children.
After minutes of exhibiting the babies, Hansen took the babies back into see Greta, as the midwife and her assistant came out. Wren came over to join Kestrel and Stillwater.
“It’s good to see you up, my friend,” she immediately said to the imp. “Are you recovered?”
“I will be better after I rest, but am better already,” Stillwater replied.
“Wren, Stillwater knows what happened. He said it happens once every hundred years. No imps can come here now, and he can’t leave. He cannot communicate with the others. Putty can’t come back,” Kestrel felt his eyes grow moist as he described the consequences.
“But we presume they all are safe, don’t we?” Wren asked.
“Yes, certainly. They left here much earlier than the arrival of the Rishiare Estelle,” Stillwater agreed. “So I am sure that the elf-girl-yeti is safely at Kestrel’s home. And the imps who were with her – Killcen, Odare, Acanthus – they are all good friends. If they are still with her, they will protect her.”
“Of course,” Kestrel agreed. “But I will miss her,” he felt the power of the friendship energy with the yeti girl, which he had created himself, the energy that bonded the two of them together, overcoming the hostility that the yeti Putienne might have felt towards him.
“What are our plans now, Kestrel-friend?” Stillwater asked.
Kestrel opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. He felt an urge to go back to Oaktown to see Putienne, but he knew that was not the course he had to follow. He had to go on with the mission to disrupt the return of the Viathins, and then attempt to rescue the captive gods. But he would have to do it without the formidable fighting power of a yeti, and without the many advantages that could be delivered by a squad of imps.
He did still have Wren, who was as fine a warrior as he knew, and he had Stillwater, still a reliable, competent, capable imp.
“We will go on. We will ask for a guide from the gnomes, and we will find our way to the lake where the Viathins are returning to our land,” Kestrel answered. “We will still do what we are supposed to do. And when we are done, we’ll all go about our lives.
“Does that sound right?” he asked the other two.
“Absolutely,” Wren said.
“There can be no other way,” Stillwater agreed. “I just want to know that we will be back before the mushroom season begins, so that I can be at Oaktown with you when the gray plates are served!”
Kestrel smiled.
“That’s what I want to see!” Wren said. “Well done Stillwater.
“What should we do for some food for dinner?” she asked Kestrel. “I suppose the big feast is no longer an option?”
“It is not,” he affirmed. He looked over at where the last of the women outside Hansen’s home were leaving. “Let’s go bother the new father and hear his advice.”
“Oh heavens, there’s still plenty of food; it’s down at the other end of town. They had already started roasting a goat, so go eat to your heart’s content,” Hansen said, a foolish grin on his face as he held one tiny baby while Greta lay in bed holding the other.
“We just can’t arrange the music and dancing and stories we wanted to share with you to celebrate your presence,” he said.
“Kestrel,” Wren’s voice called from Greta’s home, “come see!”
Ashen and concerned, Kestrel turned. “There’s nothing we can do to change it?” he asked.
“The gods themselves cannot change this, Kestrel friend,” Stillwater replied.
Shocked, Kestrel strolled over to the door of the cabin, where a small crowd of gnome women were also waiting. Hansen stepped in front of Wren, and displayed two rotund babies, one held in each of his arms.
“Twins!” Wren declared. “A boy and a girl, and Greta is doing fine.”
The women at the door crowded close, oohing and ahhing as they examined the children.
After minutes of exhibiting the babies, Hansen took the babies back into see Greta, as the midwife and her assistant came out. Wren came over to join Kestrel and Stillwater.
“It’s good to see you up, my friend,” she immediately said to the imp. “Are you recovered?”
“I will be better after I rest, but am better already,” Stillwater replied.
“Wren, Stillwater knows what happened. He said it happens once every hundred years. No imps can come here now, and he can’t leave. He cannot communicate with the others. Putty can’t come back,” Kestrel felt his eyes grow moist as he described the consequences.
“But we presume they all are safe, don’t we?” Wren asked.
“Yes, certainly. They left here much earlier than the arrival of the Rishiare Estelle,” Stillwater agreed. “So I am sure that the elf-girl-yeti is safely at Kestrel’s home. And the imps who were with her – Killcen, Odare, Acanthus – they are all good friends. If they are still with her, they will protect her.”
“Of course,” Kestrel agreed. “But I will miss her,” he felt the power of the friendship energy with the yeti girl, which he had created himself, the energy that bonded the two of them together, overcoming the hostility that the yeti Putienne might have felt towards him.
“What are our plans now, Kestrel-friend?” Stillwater asked.
Kestrel opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. He felt an urge to go back to Oaktown to see Putienne, but he knew that was not the course he had to follow. He had to go on with the mission to disrupt the return of the Viathins, and then attempt to rescue the captive gods. But he would have to do it without the formidable fighting power of a yeti, and without the many advantages that could be delivered by a squad of imps.
He did still have Wren, who was as fine a warrior as he knew, and he had Stillwater, still a reliable, competent, capable imp.
“We will go on. We will ask for a guide from the gnomes, and we will find our way to the lake where the Viathins are returning to our land,” Kestrel answered. “We will still do what we are supposed to do. And when we are done, we’ll all go about our lives.
“Does that sound right?” he asked the other two.
“Absolutely,” Wren said.
“There can be no other way,” Stillwater agreed. “I just want to know that we will be back before the mushroom season begins, so that I can be at Oaktown with you when the gray plates are served!”
Kestrel smiled.
“That’s what I want to see!” Wren said. “Well done Stillwater.
“What should we do for some food for dinner?” she asked Kestrel. “I suppose the big feast is no longer an option?”
“It is not,” he affirmed. He looked over at where the last of the women outside Hansen’s home were leaving. “Let’s go bother the new father and hear his advice.”
“Oh heavens, there’s still plenty of food; it’s down at the other end of town. They had already started roasting a goat, so go eat to your heart’s content,” Hansen said, a foolish grin on his face as he held one tiny baby while Greta lay in bed holding the other.
“We just can’t arrange the music and dancing and stories we wanted to share with you to celebrate your presence,” he said.
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