Black wizards - Douglas Niles [150]
But they never got there.
A sheet of orange flame sprang up from the ground along the edge of the dead forest. A slight breeze carried it into the trees, and the dry wood crackled into an instant inferno. The fire quickly devoured the edge of the woods and raced northward. The flames and smoke obscured the men of the guard, but the watchers knew that no men could live in that kind of furnace. The spearmen who did not flee to the north most assuredly died in the fire.
The burly swordsman gave a cheer of triumph. "I'm a man of my word," he said. "My sword is yours."
"Might as well die with friends as alone," said another. A few more rose to their feet, followed by most of the rest. Only a dozen or so remained behind. The others, nearly a hundred strong, followed the prince and his companions away from Hickorydale and Dernall Forest toward a destination none of them knew.
* * * * *
"I-I'm going back there – back there!" Yazilliclick announced suddenly. He sat on the grassy bank of a placid stream and looked up at Newt.
"Back where?" asked the faerie dragon lazily. He lounged upon a tree limb that hung over the clear water.
Newt was bored.
"Come with me. Newt! Let's find Robyn – Find Robyn!"
"Find Robyn? That would be fun! Let's go!"
They drifted along through the vast forest, meandering slowly toward Doncastle. It was a full day later before they got close enough to tell that something was wrong.
"S-smoke?" asked the sprite.
"It sure smells, too! I bet Robyn didn't like that much – a big fire stinking up the whole woods! Too bad we couldn't have seen her -"
Newt stopped in shock as they emerged from the trees.
"W-where's the town?" gasped Yazilliclick. "Where's Robyn – Robyn?"
The whole expanse before them was a blackened wasteland of ash and soot. Tendrils of smoke rose from several piles of charred wood. The Swanmay River, winding placidly through the midst of the desolation, was full of scorched garbage and bodies.
"Come on!" cried Newt. "We've got to find her! I bet she's in big trouble somewhere!"
The two faeries raced with remarkable purpose across the wasteland and into the forest. They didn't know where Robyn had gone, but they would look everywhere if they had to. For another day they buzzed hurriedly, discovering pockets of refugees from Doncastle and companies of the Scarlet Guard. But they found no sign of the druid or her friends.
Finally, they reached the western edge of the forest. Before them rolled a belt of green moor, and they could see the gray waves of the Sea of Moonshae beyond.
"We must have missed her – missed her! We have to go back and try again!" wailed the wood sprite.
"Wait!" said Newt, looking carefully at the moor before them. "What's that?" Before Yazilliclick could answer, the dragon darted from the trees toward the objects that were attracting his eye. Newt blinked into invisibility, and the sprite did the same as he reluctantly followed.
They soon saw that these were creatures, but not the humans they were searching for. Yazilliclick wanted to turn back to the woods, but Newt kept going. "They look familiar – I know, they're dwarves! I know lots of dwarves – they're kind of sourpusses, but they can be fun!"
The dejected sprite trailed along as Newt landed in front of the marching column. The dragon suddenly became visible, drawing a startled curse from the leading dwarf.
"Hi, Finellen!" he chirped. "It's me, Newt! Say, have you seen Robyn anywhere?"
* * * * *
The band of rebels grew as it moved southwestward through the forest. They encountered many small groups of stragglers, and these willingly fell in with them when they saw the size of the large group. Robyn continued to open the path for them through the forest, and they traveled far more quickly than their pursuers.
Tristan overheard some of the men who had joined them at Hickorydale recounting the tale of Robyn's fire spell. The story grew grander each time, until according