This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold. Thank you for respecting the work of the authors.
For the three generations of Clavens in our family. For the one who blessed us and ran ahead. For the one who did the work we could not do. For the one who encouraged.
And especially for the author of us all who, when His work in us is finished and all life’s fantasies are set aside, will call us to Himself.
CONTENTS
1 – A Meeting in the Mist
2 – Treetop Conference
3 – Before the Streetlights
4 – Kittens in the Culvert
5 – Not a Creature was Stirring
6 – Discovered
7 – Branching out Bungalows
8 – Shelters and Star Globes
9 – What’s in the Box
10 – Facing the Fear
11 – Early Passage
12 – Mirta’s Woven Dreams
13 – Mrs. Hayworth
14 – Cutting Classes
15 – Rendezvous
16 – Mirta’s Counsel
17 – Max Attack
18 – Under the Roots
19 – Driftwood
20 – Monarch Moment
21 – Missing Threads
22 – Flight to the Woods
23 – Tiny Trouble
24 – Silverthorn’s Scheme
25 – Parental Persuasion
26 – Working for Nothing
27 – Amber Morning
28 – A Change of Plans
29 – Golden Thoughts
30 – The Salamander
31 – Waiting for Trevor
32 – An Unenchanting Solution
33 – From a Merchant’s Point of View
34 – Simon’s Warning
35 – Ragnar’s Choice
36 – Defensive Thoughts
37 – Late Shipment
38 – Back Through the Tunnel
39 – Under the Gate
40 – Thoughts in a Jar
41 – Scattered Memories
42 – Tight Schedule
43 – Flight to the Gate
44 – Illusions in the Garden
45 – Through the Underworld
46 – Night of the Eclipse
47 – The Dragonfly
A MEETING IN THE MIST
Late November in the Silver Realm
Electrum hurried as fast as his short legs and the bulky robe allowed. Swirling mist blurred the faces of passing sprites. As he neared the harbor the air thickened into a wet, gray murk.
He closed his hand into a fist, and the King’s heavy signet ring pressed into his finger. Simon had insisted he take the ring as a symbol of authority. His robe was meant to provide a look of dignity, but it sagged and dripped with moisture. Angry sounds floated toward him, and he recognized his friend Ragnar’s voice.
“I don’t care anything about your ancient traditions or the precious reed mats that have graced the palace floors for time out of mind.”
“Even a ship captain like yourself should be able to understand the need for the royal seal.” The second voice added to the chill in the air.
Electrum’s steps slowed as he forced himself to walk out on the pier.
Paper rustled. “I have the order,” Ragnar said.
Electrum flapped his wings to shake out the moisture. The movement disturbed the airflow, parting the mist.
Ragnar, a pookah even more stout than Electrum, stood with stubby legs apart and fists on his hips. A massive sprite with silver wings and glistening chest plate towered over him. Sterling, Captain of the Guard.
Fog hid their lower bodes. They looked like reeds growing in a murky pond with their dark green skin and brown silky hair. A young sprite held a white glowstone. His trembling hand made the light dance in ripples across their faces. Through the moving mist Electrum caught glimpses of the ship’s figurehead, an enameled salamander.
“The King ordered this carpet from the Gold Realm,” Ragnar said. “It’s been paid for. I’ve been commissioned to deliver it. And neither you nor the Royal Guard have any grounds for interfering with the King’s wishes.”
“These simple forms are acceptable for your trivial merchandise,” Sterling said, “but goods ordered by the King require his stationery and seal. We can’t have every barge fly seeking a free ride to the palace claiming they have an order for the King. You know the type.”
“Barge fly…barge fly…” Ragnar spluttered.
Sterling crumpled the paper and let it fall into the fog.
“If I let you pass...” Sterling shrugged.
Electrum cleared his throat. “Perhaps I can help.”
Sterling whirled to face him. The light outlined his clenched jaw, and a vein pulsed in his temple. Electrum was glad the eyes were in shadow.
“Another pookah. Ah yes, the tutor. And how do you propose to interfere? Do you bring orders from the gatekeepers, or do you simply plan to control me with your thought dust?” His hand rested on his belt, caressing the worn hilt of a dagger.
“Not at all, sir,” Electrum said forcing his eyes away from the dagger. “I’ve simply brought the king’s seal.” He held up the ring.
Sterling dismissed it with a wave. “Rather useless without the document to go with it.”
“Oh, yes,” Electrum said, and fumbled in his robe. He pulled out a damp paper and carefully unfolded it. The ink was smudged from his wet fingers, but it was clearly the King’s document releasing the cargo. He pressed the ring into the wax. With a smile he held out the paper. Sterling snatched it out of his hand.
Ragnar folded his arms across his wide belly. “It seems I am fortunate indeed,” he said. “Not many can claim a ship cargo released by the Captain of the Guard. How nice of you to sign off.”
Sterling stuffed the paper into his pocket and glared at Electrum. “You have poisoned the mind of the prince and clouded the King’s thoughts, but you will not stop me from preventing this contaminating trade with the Gold Realm.
“Some see it as progress,” Ragnar said.
“Pookahs,” he spat the word. “Too fat to fly and always meddling.” He strode away, the mist closing around him.
“Fat indeed!” Electrum mumbled under his breath. “I fly just fine without this burdensome robe.”
The pier creaked under a heavy boot. A dark form emerged from the fog and the two pookahs stepped back. A powerful sprite wearing the dark colors of a lieutenant leered down at them.
“Leave them, Tanner,” Sterling’s voice growled from the fog.
Tanner’s face split in a mock grin. Then he slunk after Sterling.
“The hornet and his mosquito,” Ragnar said. He chuckled and the pleasant sound was welcome. “You did well to have Prince Silverthorn serve as a pollywog on the Salamander. He learned the trade well, and he will make a better king for it.”
“If he hadn’t met Amber,” Electrum said, “he would have been a much more contented king. Rumors have been rampant in the palace about his flirtation with a gold merchant girl. Sterling is not the only one who objects.”
“Don’t second guess yourself, my friend. You don’t know what good might come of it.”