“Come now, girl, we must hurry!” Quick shouted over his shoulder.
It was a mystery to Leera how the old man could limp in such a high pace, and also why she was following him. With the exception of a sleep drunk eagle strutting over a rooftop, the town was empty. Everyone was still sleeping.
Jane’s Spire was a small city perched on a cliff, overlooking the Sleet Mire. In the old days, the city had been a watch post – a gatekeeper for the mountain pass into the dirt lands of Humus. This was as far as the air folk of Caeli would go, and that suited Leera well. Not too many annoying neighbors and enough customers for her small business.
The steel cap at the bottom of Quick’s cane shot sparks against the cobblestone. Leera stumbled along the road, feeling like a child all over again, chasing her airborne brother. She felt tears welling up. Aelar was dead, why was she following this lunatic? She shook her head. Perhaps it was the uncertainty that had gnawed at her for all these years. Perhaps there was still an ounce of desperation somewhere for answers to all the questions she had long since put to rest.
“Where are we going?” she called out.
“Why, to Oceanpeak, of course! I believe I told you that already.”
“Yes, but where are we going this very moment?”
“Wheres and whens, always wheres and whens,” the old man muttered.
They had reached the last building of Jane’s Spire – the old windmill. Quick halted and looked up at the weather-worn sails.
“Ah, I believe this is the place.”
“The place for what?”
Stolen novel; please report.
Leera had barely finished her sentence when a large rock smashed into the ground only an arm’s length away from her. She gasped as another rock came flying straight for her. She was barely able to roll away in time.
“Now, this is all very rude,” she heard the old man mutter. “Very rude, indeed.”
Leera noticed three figures, wrapped in dust-brown cloaks, lurking in the shadow of a house. Rocks were swirling around their fists, and the ground seemed to ripple under their feet.
“Hand over the Iso-bender, and we’ll spare your life, old man.”
The world has gone mad, Leera thought, completely and utterly mad. Last night she had made necklaces out of quartz and feathers, and now she was about to get kidnapped by a group of fanatic earth folk who thought she was some kind of special bender.
“You’ve got the wrong person!” cried Leera.
“Nice try, Caelica,” said one of them as the earth trembled below his feet.
“Don’t hurt him!” Leera pleaded. “He’s just a crazy old man; I’ll come willingly.”
She had heard the tales of the ruthless earth benders but had never thought she’d see one with her own eyes, much less being attacked by three of them. She didn’t owe the old man anything, but she’d hate to see him get hurt over a misunderstanding. Once the earth folk realized she was a useless mundane, they would let her go, and she could return to her simple life. She took a hesitant step towards her assailants.
“That’s a good Caelica. Just come over here and–”
The demeaning comment was cut short as the sound of wood against bone echoed over the mountainside. Quick had closed the gap between them in a blink and was now chasing the three earth benders around the building. His cane rose and fell to tactful whimpers of pain. Leera couldn’t believe her eyes. The old man was making the benders look like impudent school kids. Leera watched in awe as the cries grew distant. What had just happened?
A moment later, Quick appeared by her side.
“That was very rude,” he muttered. “Now, where were we?”
“I.. I.. uh…”
“Oh, right, my favorite part,” he said and tapped his cane against the wooden façade of the windmill.
He muttered something under his breath, and the building started creaking and moving. The planks folded in and changed shape, the arms of the windmill shifted and retracted, and soon the old building was completely transformed. It was no longer a windmill, but an odd-looking keelboat. Quick held out his hand towards Leera.
“Miss Eirey, I present to you Andromeda! Please allow me to escort you on board.”