Darkwell - Douglas Niles [105]
She giggled, her voice a trill like a tiny brook, and flew through the woods, leading the satyrs on a long and delightful chase. The sprite knew that they would never catch her. After all, they never had before, and things in Faerie never changed.
They saw other creatures of Faerie, kin to Yazilliclick's own folk, such as pixies, dryads, and leprechauns. These dwellers called and beckoned to the odd pair, but the sprite kept the troll directed on his mission.
"How did you g-get your name, anyway – anyway?" asked Yazilliclick. "D-Does it mean anything?"
"Honkah-Fah-Snooie good name. It mean 'He-whose-nose-casts-shadow-over-ten-thousand-blossoms.'" Honkah proudly gestured to his impressive proboscis. "My nose great nose, even for troll, eh?"
"Oh, yes, it is – it is! I – I have never seen such a wonderful n-nose!"
Pleased, Honkah picked up the pace a bit, stepping across a crystalline stream on a series of strategically located stones. Dozens of fat trout looked up at them from the water as they crossed.
Yazilliclick turned suddenly as the bushes beside him rustled. He saw a brown canine face, topped by perky upraised ears, looking at him. A pink tongue lolled from a wide mouth as the creature seemed to smile at him.
"A b-blink dog – dog! Hi there!" The sprite hovered lower to pat the dog on the head, but suddenly it disappeared from view. Yazilliclick looked around and saw it grinning at him from behind a tree several dozen feet away. He darted over to it, but it blinked again, this time teleporting itself to the far side of the stream they had just crossed, where it was joined by a half-dozen of its fellows.
"I give up," the sprite said with a laugh. "Y-You just can't catch those guys – guys!" But the chase delighted him as had little else in recent years.
He buzzed back to Honkah's side, for the troll had begun tapping his foot impatiently. A feeling of warm well-being grew within the sprite, making him want to remain in Faerie forever. This was such a delightful, pleasant place. He found it hard to remember why he had ever left in the first place.
But then he remembered his friends and his mission. In truth, his companions were becoming a blurry memory to him already. He even had a hard time picturing Newt in his mind, unless he concentrated very hard. But he felt certain that they needed his help, and were in terrible danger, and some driving force within him compelled him to go to their aid. Perhaps he had been changed by his years in the Realms, for such a compulsion could certainly never have affected a creature who had spent all his life in Faerie.
"Here gate," grunted Honkah, pointing to a bank of earth exposed at the bottom of the steep hillside.
The sprite saw that this gate, like the half-dozen they had already visited, was framed by a thick layer of green moss and lay in a shady part of a lightly forested area. There was nothing about it to tell the unaware explorer that this was anything other than a bare patch of ground.
He realized how fortunate they were that the gates in Faerie were much closer together than their connecting points in the other worlds. This had enabled them to investigate a variety of locations in a few hours, covering distances that would have taken several days to reach had they been traveling through Myrloch Vale.
"T-To Myrloch Vale?"
"Yup, to vale. Lotsa gates to Myrloch Vale."
"Well, I'll see if I can find some sign of my friends," said the sprite. He stepped up to the bank of dirt and put his hands out, feeling the moist earth until he discovered a place where he met no resistance. Boldly he stepped through.
He popped back out in a second, sputtering and soaking wet. "It's under w-water! I c-couldn't see anything – anything! Wh-what kind of a g-gate is this that goes to the b-bottom of a lake or a river or s-something?"
Honkah looked puzzled, scratching his flat head. "Not under water last time. Must be wrong place."