Brugo and Anaya stood dumbfounded in the woods, staring at the place where Harpyn had been only a moment before. The white wolf stood nearby also, apparently unwilling to leave.
“What was that?” Anaya whispered.
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it. Let’s go.”
“What? You’re just going to leave?”
“What would you suggest doing?” he asked more irritably than he should have.
Her mouth fell open but she didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she planted her fists on her hips and pierced him with her eyes.
“After all this, you mean to leave Harpyn behind? I won’t allow it. Wherever he went, it had something to do with the sword. I know it! We can’t just ignore that. We need to get to Yaal and talk to the mages, but it won’t do us any good if we don’t have the sword or the mage to do the talking.”
Brugo groaned. All of this business with swords and mages was getting to be too much. He was so close to his destination, to reuniting with his friends and making sure his wife was safe. But Anaya wouldn’t budge, and he knew he owed Harpyn at least this much, annoying as it was.
“Fine. Where do we begin?”
Anaya eyed the wolf, still standing impassively where the beam of light had been, and tilted her head toward it.
“At the source. We know there were multiple beams of light, but Harpyn disappeared through this one. Maybe there’s some kind of mark on the ground, or something to tell us where the light came from. Everyone in Yaal probably saw it too, so they might be headed this way. We’ll have to work quickly.
They approached the wolf cautiously. As protective as it was of Harpyn, Brugo worried that it would lunge for them as soon as they got close. But as Brugo walked the last few feet, the wolf sat, its golden eyes soft and friendly.
At its feet, the sword glittered.
“What-”
The wolf, Osric, bent its head and nudged the sword toward Brugo, flipping it over in the dirt.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Brugo said, taking a step back.
“What do you think it means?” Anaya’s voice was tiny, even in the strange silence of the forest.
“It means nothing. It’s a trick. We watched that sword kill a man, and now we’ve watched it disappear another man. The thing is out for blood.”
“Well,” Anaya answered reasonably, “It is a sword. That’s kind of what they’re made for.”
Brugo shot her a withering look. “You know what I mean.”
Despite the tension hanging in the air, she cracked a small smile. Brugo sighed. It was just the stress. It had to be the stress.
“I get the feeling we won’t be doing much searching around here with him there,” she said.
“Then I guess we’ll have to go straight to Yaal after all. No sense in sticking around if we can’t find anything.”
Anaya placed a hand on his elbow, and this time her expression was sympathetic, but she remained steadfast as ever. They were not leaving. Not until they had some clue as to where Harpyn had gone.
Brugo wanted to scream. This wasn’t fair! All he wanted to do was get to the city and go about his life, sans magic and mages and swords and wolves and harpies… But instead of a scream, he managed only a low groan of existential dread as he rubbed at his tusks.
“Did you notice anything odd about Harpyn just before he disappeared?”
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Brugo shrugged. “That he was more annoying than usual? Yes. I noticed.”
She laughed quietly. “But it wasn’t just that, was it? It was like… it gave him false confidence. Like holding the sword made him believe he was someone else.”
Brugo gave a dismissive snort. “Aye, but that happens to all boys the first time they pick up a sword. Makes you think you’re some kind of warrior, even if you don’t know the first thing about swinging a weapon.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right. Maybe I’m giving the thing too much credit.”
Osric, apparently, had grown impatient with their conjecture, and stood up. He dropped his head to the sword and picked it up carefully between his teeth. This time, he walked straight up to Brugo and sat, holding the thing out. It was clear what he wanted.
“I already told you, I’m not taking it,” Brugo insisted.
Osric raised a lip and gave a low growl but remained unmoved.
“Listen, I know you don’t like it, but one of us is going to have to take it either way. We can’t just leave it laying out here for anyone to find. If you won’t do it, I will.” Anaya stepped forward, extending a hand toward the hilt.
Osric moved sideways, dodging her touch. In the same instant, the harpies appeared out of nowhere, forming a glittering barricade with their wings. They screeched in Anaya’s face, forcing her to take several steps backward in surprise.
When they were satisfied that she would not make another move, they appeared to relax a little, turning their attention to Brugo also.
“There is still the option of going straight to Yaal and not doing any of this,” he gritted out between his teeth. But somehow, he already knew that was no longer on the table.
With three ethereal beings gazing at him, he knew that he no longer had any say in what happened next.
“Take my hand,” he said.
Anaya gave him a puzzled look.
“If that… thing… opens up again, I’m not going through it alone.”
She nodded, scampering sideways to place her tiny human hand in his giant Sarizian one, and with one final groan of exasperation, Brugo took the sword from Osric’s mouth.
There was a moment of disappointment, followed by a rush of sensation. Brugo had never felt anything like it before in his life. Not when he’d wielded his first axe. Not when he’d kissed his first girl. Not when his first child was born. Nothing compared to the emotions and sensations rushing through his blood. He found himself reeling, gasping for breath, the whole world was more alive around him all the sudden.
After several long moments, he realized that both Anaya and Osric were staring at him.
“I-I’m alright,” he said at last, straightening his shoulders and looking down at the blade.
It sizzled happily with little bits of lightning racing down one side and up the other, but then it fell quiet too.
Osric backed up a couple steps, and then to Brugo’s surprise, the great wolf stretched its front paws out and lowered its head in a deep bow, tucking its snout under so that its forehead nearly touched the ground. The harpies bobbed in front of him, bowing their heads as well.
“Don’t start all that nonsense now. I assure you, this arrangement is only temporary,” Brugo said, shooing the creatures away.
But he had to admit, something was different now. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was just a feeling, like a thrumming deep in his bones, that told him this was right. This sword belonged to him.
He shook it off, turning his attention back to the patch of dirt in front of him.
“Come on. Let’s look for clues, and then we’ll be on our way. If we wait much longer, we won’t reach Yaal til dark, and then we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to speak with someone at the mage’s tower.”
“Um, I’m pretty sure the mage’s tower is always open,” Anaya said, but Brugo only rolled his eyes.
Whether it was or not, he did not intend to spend any longer out here than he had to.
They kicked around the dead leaves and toed the soil. There wasn’t so much as a burn mark or a rock out of place. There was no sign whatsoever that the light had emerged from this place. Brugo was beginning to wonder if it had been an illusion. Like maybe the light hadn’t come from below, but from above. But when he looked up into the canopy, the trees were also untouched. It just didn’t make any sense.
Anaya made a frustrated sound and dropped to the dirt in defeat. “This is ridiculous.”
“I’ve been saying that all along.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. You were right. There’s nothing to see here. Let’s just go to Yaal.”
Brugo was more than happy to oblige her this time. He fiddled with the loops in his belt and managed to sheath the sword, instead carrying his axe over his shoulder. Then they left the clearing behind, ready to be on their way.
There was only one problem.
Anaya was able to send the harpies away, and they vanished back to their other home. But Osric remained present, following at Brugo’s side as if they had been lifelong companions.
For one thing, Mabel took a dim view of this arrangement. But Brugo knew it was going to complicate things in Yaal as well. He already looked out of place being so much larger than most men, and having tusks and all. Having an enormous white wolf at his side was not going to help him keep a low profile either. There might be other Sarizians in Yaal, but there would be no other magical wolves.
“Shoo. Go home,” Brugo urged at the edge of the forest.
Yaal was in sight. They just had to cross a small open area and get through the city’s gates. He could see the top of the mage’s tower standing proudly over the perimeter wall. But there stood Osric, as stubborn as a mule, and almost as big as one, too.