Saturday, September 10, 2005

   Chapter 5: The Eyes of a Hero (part 1)
Sing Lucaya.
Pen turned the two words around in his head as Panda led him back out the stronghold. Lucaya was the name of the sword, there was no question about that, but why the “sing?” Since Danesan hadn’t told him about it, Pen assumed that either he didn’t know about it, or he didn’t know what it meant either. He was sure that the swordsmith would have told him if he did. Pen decided that he would have to check the Archives’ library to see if there was anything about swords marked with two words.
“Do you want a lift somewhere?” Panda asked him, perhaps wanting to break the silence. Brought back to the real world, Pen took a look at his watch. He had five minutes to make it up the cliffs to meet Tory’s group. If he went by foot, there was no way he would get there on time.
“Well,” Pen hesitated. He never liked asking for favors, but, in this case, he had little choice.
“Okay,” Panda didn’t even wait for him to say more. “Keion hasn’t gotten a chance to do anything in a long time. He’s been slacking off a little.” He pulled a little green stone on a chain out of a hidden pocket inside his belt and held it up to sky, so that the light of both suns, starting to set in opposite parts of the horizon, hit it and made it glow.
Only a minute later, there was a great gust of air from above and huge, feathered wings blocked the suns out. A gray-and-brown griffon dropped down beside Panda, the green stones on his collars answering the call of his. His proud orange eyes gazed sharply upon Pen.
“Jump on!” Panda told him. Keion crouched so that the boy could climb on his back. When he was sitting comfortable in front of the wings, his owner gave him a friendly scratch behind an ear and told him to drop Pen off at the top of the city cliffs. The griffon snorted in understanding before jumping up into the air.
“See you later!” Panda yelled as the creature disappeared over the castle’s golden wall.
Pen had never been off the ground; he held on to Keion’s collar in wonder as the city dropped away beneath him. He could see all the alleys and the houses perfectly laid out in small, everything looking like in slow motion from the height. The griffon’s giant patterned wings worked gently, lifting him up over everything, gathering the air and letting it push them to the top of the glittering crystal cliffs.
The boy could see, in the distance, as the wiseman airlifted Tory’s group up with magic. He pointed to them, showing Keion where he should land. The griffon flew gracefully toward the forest, landing carefully on a small plot of grass just inside the tree line, where the group couldn’t see them.
Pen slid off Keion and thanked him. The griffon snorted in response, folded up his wings, and trotted away into the wilderness. Once he had made sure that everything was still in place, Pen followed the edge of the cliff to where Tory’s group was waiting.
The wisewoman looked like she was in a better mood than before. She was talking cheerfully with the wiseman when she saw Pen approaching.
“Okay, we can start going now!” she announced. The wet-haired children, worn out from swimming, did not run ahead as before, and their talking was much less noisy and irritating. Pen was too lost in thought to care about how much he hated them.
His fingers found the letters on his sword. Sing Lucaya. While he walked, he started to feel like there was something out of place… something missing…

They could see the lights of the library ahead in the growing darkness when it hit him. The group of kids ran and the wisepeople ran the rest of the way to the building, leaving Pen standing in the shadows.
Tory wasn’t among them.
In the haste of returning home before dark, she must have been left behind. A strange feeling struck Pen as the truth sank in.
The forest was a dangerous place at night. Not even the city was always safe. There was no time.
As quickly as he could, he threw off his slippery shoes and his belt. He took his school sword off and put it by his shoes; it was too much to take. While he put Lucaya back on, he started to run.
The darkness began to close in on him. He enjoyed it. In the dark, he felt whole. He let it wash over him, sharing his energy as it shared its.
Faster, he thought. Faster.
The shadows swallowed him.
For a moment, he felt disoriented. Pen struggled to find his feet again, and when he did, he could already see the lights of city in front of him. He sprang off the beach side of the cliff, sliding down on his back until it threw him out on the sand.
The blue light of the moon shimmered on the water. Pen ran along the beach, looking for that golden hair that he used to know so well…
In the quiet, as he ran, he thought he heard a strange sound. He stopped, straining his ears against the water of the lake and murmur of voices from the city. It was coming from the little wooden house that served as changing rooms. With a hand on his sword, he approached it.
Just inside the dark, door-less building sat Tory, her back against the wall, weeping.
“Tory!” Pen said quietly. Started, she squeaked and scuttled into the corner, her pink eyes big in the darkness as she tried to make out the shape in the doorway.
“Who… who’s there?”
“It’s me, Tory!”
Her weeping ceased. “P-Pen?” she stuttered. “You… you came for me?”
“Yes,” he said impatiently. “Now, let’s get home before it gets even darker.”
Tory stumbled to her feet, feeling her way to the shadows. As soon as she had made it out, her breath seemed to come easier. Her eyes wandered out to the glittering lake. “Beautiful,” she breathed.
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