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Chapter Twenty-Four

Terry and Gregor sprang to their feet drew their weapons, knowing it was useless but willing to try.

“This time, I shall squeeze you dead before I take you home, then I shall gobble you up while your flesh is still fresh! Ha! Fresh flesh!” the giant chortled, striding towards them at a terrifying rate. “My morsels!”

Suddenly, a blurred figure made a beeline towards Terry and Gregor, then stopped. It was Maurice!

“God, you guys stink!” he said, then began a familiar muttering. A golden orb enveloped them. The giant reared back.

“What—what is this!” he said. He reached towards them, then flinched as his hand touched the orb.

“Ouch!” he said, indignant. “What! Ouch!” He shook his hand out. “God, that hurts! Oh! I hate you guys!” he shouted, addressing Terry and Gregor. “You’re not my morsels! I’m going home!” And he stomped across the plain, muttering, “Deer, again.”

Maurice kept the spell up until the echo of the giant’s footsteps had long disappeared.

“Maurice, you saved us!” Terry said.

“Do not hug me,” Maurice replied. “Ugh. You neither, Gregor. I mean, giants stink but you guys really reek. You smell like you’ve been in a rathole for the last 24 hours.”

“We have,” Terry said.

“Oh. Well, that explains it,” Maurice said. “Come on—there’s a wild river close to here, but you can wade in and maybe clean yourselves up a bit.”

They gladly let Maurice lead them to the banks of a wide, cold river that rushed down from the mountains, its water still the temperature of melted snow. In spite of the temperature, Gregor and Terry gladly waded in, eager to be rid of the stench of the giant rathole. Then they sat on the bank and let the weak northern sun dry them. Only then did Terry notice how close they were to the mountains.

“Where are we?” asked Gregor, who also was finally taking note of his surroundings.

“The foothills,” Maurice said. “We’re at the base of the great northern mountains. Look around.

Terry and Gregor complied. In the blur of their rescue, and the trudge to the river, they hadn’t really noticed anything but their immediate surroundings. But the ground was truly rising, now, and the mountains towered over them.

“No wonder the water’s so cold,” Terry said.

“Yes,” Maurice said. “It’s all snowmelt.”

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“But I thought it was supposed to take 10 days to get here,” Terry said.

“10 days walking,” Maurice replied. “In a way, that nasty giant did you a favor. You covered a fair amount of distance walking to his castle in the north.”

“Ugh,” Gregor said. “What a way to travel!”

“How did you find us?” Terry asked.

“I returned to the path, and followed the giant’s steps,” he said. “A giant leaves a pretty easy trail.”

“And how is the abbey?”

Maurice’s face fell. “Not good,” he said. “Casualties. About half of the clerics didn’t make it, and the abbey is burned down to the ground.”

“Oh, Maurice,” Terry said. “I’m sorry.”

“We’re at war,” Maurice said, flatly. “I’m afraid it’s to be expected. Now, are you dry? We should get going.”

“I’m so glad you found us,” Terry said. “I let us split up, and you had all the maps, all the healing potions, not even counting your protection spell. Argh, it was so stupid.”

“You’ve got to stop beating yourself up,” Terry, Gregor said.

“Gregor’s right,” Maurice added. As bad as it was, we’re days ahead of schedule now, and considering the war below us, it may have been the best thing to happen.”

“Besides, I can add giant-rat-killer to my titles now,” Gregor said.

“Yes, you certainly had the stench to prove it,” Maurice said, smiling.

He rolled out a map of the northern mountains in the sun, and showed the trail to Terry and Gregor.

“This is our first night,” he said. “We leave the foothills and begin our climb. My hope is to get to this cave before moonset.”

“That’s not a suncave, is it?” Terry said.

“No,” Maurice replied. “No one knows the location of the suncaves. But there is an old hermit who has made his home up here. He’s been in touch with the northernmost abbey enough over the years so that we have a good chance of meeting him. Or his bones. Anyway, it’s a cave, and we’ll need shelter. The mountains have nasties that are far worse than the forest.”

They walked along the banks of the wild river, following its path back into the mountains. The sound of the water became a backdrop for their journey, and the air smelled of pine and dust. The sunlight had that brittle intensity common in the northern summer, and Terry could feel her skin pinken in the radiant glow. Maurice took them along a trail that began to slope more and more sharply upward, and they began to march single file. The river dropped more and more below them, carving its way into a canyon, until they were quite far above it. By late afternoon, the canyon had become a gorge, and the trail ended at a rickety rope bridge.

“We must cross the bridge to continue,” Maurice said.

Gregor looked down, and down, and down. “I’d rather fight a giant rat,” he said, shuddering.

“We’ll be across in no time,” Terry assured him.

It truly was a rickety old rope bridge. Woven branches comprised the decking, while two cables provided a handrail. Maurice led the way, and the bridge squeaked and swayed in the wind.

“Ugh,” muttered Gregor, bringing up the rear. “I’m too big for this thing.”

“Maybe,” Maurice said. “Let’s hurry.”

“What do you mean, maybe?”

Maurice didn’t answer, but walked as fast and as lightly as he could, as they suspended themselves over the yawning gorge. Now they were in the middle, and Terry saw to her relief that her steps were rising to the edge. Now 20 steps, now ten, and then they were on to the other side. Without a word, the three of them sat down for a moment, happy to be on solid ground.

“I love this ground!” Gregor said, slapping a rock next to him solidly with the palm of his hand.

“Hey,” the rock shouted, and out of the ground burst a figure that stood head and shoulders taller than Gregor. It was made completely of rock. The three of them were trapped, with the rock guardian in front of them and the bridge behind.

“You’ve crossed my bridge without my permission!” he rumbled. “Now you must die!”