George reached over the counter and grabbed the quill that was next to Susanne's hand. As he did, he made sure the outside of his glove brushed against her skin. He thought, Right on, she didn't change. He began to write.

Dear Athena, I wanted to give you a gift to let you know that you're on my mind. I'm sorry I missed you, but I'll be back tomorrow night. I hope you've longed for me as much as I've longed for you.

With fondness, George Feeling a bit b.u.mmed, George said goodbye to Athena's sister and left for the arena. Tomorrow night was a long wait. He wanted to see Athena now. But after thinking it through, he remembered he could not control his ability. Athena's absence was for the best, because he could not kiss her anyway.

After making his way back to the arena, George was about to buy his way inside when a familiar voice shouted. "Oh, my Lord in Heaven! George Nailer, is that you? I thought you were a goner!"

George rolled his eyes and then turned around. As he watched Shalee approach, he thought. Great! Here comes the blonde ditz. Why would Texas even claim a ho like her? I hate annoying women.

Shalee continued. "Goodness-gracious ... the way your skinny b.u.t.t fell through that hole in the temple scared me half-to-death. I would've sworn that I'd never see you again. Are you okay? Did you bonk anything?"

Though Shalee's voice annoyed George half to death, he did like what she was wearing. She had on a pretty white dress and a black sweater that looked like it was made of lace. The outfit was nowhere close to what the other women in town were wearing. Shalee's fashion was definitely a step above the rest. The dress clung to her bosom and hugged her waist. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and exposed her neck.

George put on a pleasant smile as Shalee stopped in front of him. "I was wondering what happened to you. Looks like you figured out how to add a little kick to the clothes everybody wears around here."

Shalee looked down. "Oh, this old thing," she said while she pulled at the fabric. "It was a gift. Sam gave it to me after he won his first fight. It tickles me pink how he spoils me. I had to adjust the waist and bodice, plus I took the sleeves off the dress. I even made this sweater from an interesting material that I found at an adorable, little shop called The Old Mercantile. The place looked so rugged, but there was a sweet lady there that had some material locked away inside a trunk. Poor thing. After I left, I heard that someone robbed her and her husband and took all their money."

George shook his head and frowned. "That's terrible. How could someone do something like that? Can you believe that?"

"I know. Right?" Shalee changed the subject. "Anyhoo ... I think the women around here like my fashion. You wouldn't believe how many of them have come up to me to ask me about it. Maybe I can start a trend. How does this sound to you? Just imagine a sign above the door of my own shop: Shalee's Purdy Prada? Can't you feel the ring to it?"

George had ignored most of what Shalee had said. He was thinking about Sam winning his first fight. "So ... Sam is fighting now? Is he fighting here, too?"

Shalee frowned. "You need to learn how to entertain a lady's ambitions."

George shrugged. "I don't care about you opening a shop. That's girl c.r.a.p. Tell me about Sam."

"Fine," Shalee huffed. "I'll tell you about him, but first, you've got to tell me what happened to you after you fell through the floor. You had to have bonked something."

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Blah, blah, blah, George thought, and then he made up a lie. "I fell into a room and was knocked out. The next thing I knew, I was in this town. Nothing too exciting has happened since. It's actually been kind of boring. So what about Sam?"

Shalee rolled her eyes. "You just don't get it, do you? At least you could've said something nice about my outfit. Anyway, I'm not here to educate the hopeless."

Shalee crossed her arms. "Sam and I have been working to gain the fame he needs to win an audience with the King of Brandor. I've been working on controlling my new power with my new friend here." She held up her staff. "Precious, I'd like you to meet, George. Just ignore his rudeness."

The jerk was intrigued. "Shalee, what do you mean by your 'power,' and when did you start talking to sticks?"

Shalee grinned. "I've become a sorceress-in-training. I'm excited about it, too. And I'm good at it. I'll show you what I can do sometime. I bet you'll be impressed."

"That sounds crazy," George responded. "So are you going to tell me about Sam, or what?"

Shalee started to tap her foot on the ground. "Sam's fine! He's been fighting in the kingdom's arenas. He fought yesterday and won his second fight. He has another one tomorrow. He loses his mind when he gets in there, but fighting is necessary to gain an audience with the King of Brandor. I swear it takes me forever to calm him down afterward. He gets so enraged. It's scary to watch, and he's killed two men."

George smirked. "Sounds like he needs an anger management course."

"I agree. Well, I kind of agree. He has killed his last two opponents, and he's becoming well-known. Last night, everywhere we went, people treated him like a celebrity. The people of this world love barbarism. I don't understand it. It makes me sick."

George's brow furrowed. "Are we talking about the same guy? I know Sam is a tough guy and all, but I didn't think he was that much of a stud."

Shalee nodded. "Oh, he's a stud alright. But there's one big difference. The G.o.d of War, Mosley, gave Sam some gifts. One of them increased the size of his body. He is much bigger than when you last saw him."

"I thought the G.o.d of War was Ba.s.sorine," George replied.

Shalee nodded. "He was, or at least he used to be. Ba.s.sorine was destroyed, and the wolf took his place."

"Wolf? What wolf?"

"Oh, sorry ... Mosley is the wolf that was part of the statue in the temple," Shalee informed. "You'd like Mosley, George. Sam and I traveled with him before he ascended."

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about? You've traveled with a G.o.d?"

"That's what I said," Shalee gloated. "But I know what you mean, though. Sometimes I sit in my room and think that this all has to be some sort of dream or crazy fantasy. It's hard to believe anything around here is real. It's even harder to believe that we've been on Grayham for only 14 Peaks, and so much has happened."

George chuckled. "You sound like a native ... spouting off about Peaks and everything."

Shalee grinned. "Well, hanging out with Sam rubs off on you. He insists we speak like everybody else so we don't insult anyone." A moment later, the expression on Shalee's face changed. "Sometimes, I can't stop myself from crying. I miss home."

"I'll second that emotion," George reinforced. "I miss home, too."

Shalee looked down at George's hands. "Why are you wearing gloves? It's kind of warm for that, don't you think? It's not very fashionable."

"You and your stupid fashion," George growled. "It's a long story, so don't ask."

"Fine!"

George crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the ground to mirror Shalee's att.i.tude. "Are you going to finish telling me about Sam, or not?"

Shalee dropped her hands to her side and stopped fidgeting. "I would take you to see him, but he's training right now, and I'm waiting for Helga so we can watch the fights."

"And who's Helga again?"

"Helga's my instructor. I've been training so much lately that I need a break. That's why we're here. Apparently, Helga likes to watch the fights."

"Doesn't sound like you have anything in common," George replied.

"Sure we do," Shalee reb.u.t.ted. "Helga likes my fashion, so that makes her okay with me in my book. I've even got her wearing it now." She tapped the b.u.t.t end of Precious on the ground. "All kidding aside, George, you're welcome to meet Helga and sit with us. I'll buy you an ale, if you'd like, and I'll finish telling you about Sam."

"I'd like that," George replied. "Maybe we could all have dinner and catch up."

Shalee smiled. "Sam would've stopped you right then. The natives around here don't use the word maybe. They all say perhaps."

George just rolled his eyes. "Whatever!"

Later that Evening South of Lethwitch Sam was with BJ in a farmer's field just south of town when Shalee showed up and told Sam about George. The fighter was intrigued to know that George was alive, and he was interested in meeting for dinner.

Tossing his wooden stave to the ground, Sam proceeded to get dressed and then tended to BJ's wounds. "It looks like the old man has gone soft on me," Sam joked as he applied the healing mud to the trainer's leg.

BJ grumbled, "Give me a couple gifts from the G.o.ds, and watch what I do to you. If you weren't blessed, I'd beat you senseless."

Sam and Shalee laughed. After a few moments pa.s.sed, BJ lightened up. They headed out to meet George for dinner.

SAM and SHALEE are making their way to a tavern across town to have dinner with George who is waiting for them to arrive.

Amar is sitting at the bar. The mage is working up the courage to introduce himself to George. Lasidious is also present. The G.o.d is sitting inside an invisible veil. He is curious as to how George will react to Amar.

CELESTRIA has retired to her room that was provided by the witch family. She is having a pleasant conversation with two squirrels as they eat nuts she has set out for them. Her conversation with the squirrels is a wonderful stress reliever. Her interactions with the witches are driving her mad. She is counting the Peaks until her son is born.

MOSLEY left his team after they had yet another meeting. The G.o.ds were all in agreement. Mosley will visit Keldwin, the King of Brandor.

ATHENA is singing as she washes the dishes at her mother's home. She is excited about the flowers that were delivered to her from work. She cannot wait to see George again. She has read the note over and over, anxious for her shift to start tomorrow night when George promised to return.

SENCHAE BLOODVAIN is holding his unicorn horn close to his groin. The healing power of the horn is soothing the pain, but he cannot believe how black and blue his inner thighs are. Since the bull's departure, the king has been contemplating the Lasidious' words. Senchae is also struggling with his immense pride.

Never before has Senchae been in a near-fatal position. Although his men do not regard him any differently-their respect still intact-the memory of the encounter gnaws at Senchae. He would have preferred an honorable death to the bull's mere departure. But ending his own life would be cowardly, so his only option is to swallow this bitter pill.

Thank you for reading this edition of the Grayham Inquirer

CHAPTER 21.

A Soul Rescued GEORGE WAITED FOR HIS dinner companions to arrive as he finished his second mug of ale. While he waited, a gray-haired man approached from the bar. The man was wearing a light green, hooded robe, and he was holding a staff that had a cubed shaped gem set at its top.

Amar tapped the b.u.t.t end of his staff against the floor and took a seat across from George. "We should speak."

George looked across the table and scanned Amar's appearance. You've got to be kidding me. This schmuck looks like Merlin. "Look pal, I have people coming. You need to take a hike."

"I'll speak quickly, George." The mage watched the surprise appear on George's face. "Yes, I know your name. I've been sent to a.s.sist you on your journey. I know you need my help with your ... well ... let's just call it your gift since we are in mixed company. Under my tutelage, you could learn to master it."

George leaned across the table. "Don't tell me what I need. Whoever sent you should mind his own business. I don't need your help."

The mage leaned forward. "Lasidious sent me. My name is Amar."

George feigned his interest. "Oh, so you're Amar! Why didn't you just say so?" The jerk changed his expression. "I don't give a c.r.a.p who you are. Tell Lasidious to mind his own business. It's best you go before I make you wish that you had."

Amar's expression was filled with concern. "You speak of our lord as if you don't respect him. He's to be feared."

George stood, pushed his seat back and then looked down at Amar. "Get lost, and take your lord with you, or I'll might decide to use my gift on you."

The mage stood from the table. "As you wish, but I'll be outside the arena at the closing of the games. If you want my help, meet me there." With that, Amar closed his eyes and vanished.

George reached across the table and pa.s.sed his hand through the air where Amar had stood. What the h.e.l.l? he thought. The sum-b.i.t.c.h just vanished.

From within his invisible veil, Lasidious watched from the far side of the bar as George looked around the room to see if anyone else was bothered by the mage's disappearance. When no one seemed to care, the Mischievous One smirked as George reached out again to examine the s.p.a.ce where Amar had been.

Now, more than ever, George was confused. How did he know my name? How did he know about me turning c.r.a.p to stone? He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. There's never a dull moment around this joint. I've got to write a book about this for Abbie. He lifted his drink from the table, slammed down the rest of his ale and then reclaimed his seat until his guests arrived.

When Sam and Shalee entered, George could not stop staring at the fighter's body. "Holy cow, man! Look at you. You're a horse. Put an axe in your hand, throw a red-checkered shirt on you, and call you Paul Bunyan. I thought you had muscles before, but this is sick ... h.e.l.la sick."

Sam smiled. "The conversation about my size and how I got it is best left for places a little more private, wouldn't you agree? I have a lot to tell you about this world. There are many things that we've learned. I'm hoping to compare notes and see if you know something we don't."

George nodded. "Sure, let's talk about something else until we're done eating." After the meal, the group left the tavern and headed for the inn where Sam and Shalee were staying.

Lasidious remained invisible and followed.

George was glad to learn that the inn where Sam and Shalee were staying was not the inn where Athena worked. He did not want to mix business with pleasure. This meeting was about gathering information. It had nothing to do with friendship. He could not care less if Sam and Shalee existed. He just wanted the scoop.

Everyone filed into Sam and Shalee's room. Sam was the first to speak. "It's good to see you, George. I thought you had become a tragedy, but after speaking with Ba.s.sorine, I figured you might have survived since Lasidious has plans for you."

Lasidious smirked. The Mischievous One moved to sit in a chair across the room and maintained his invisible cover. This should prove entertaining, he thought. George is already confused.

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?" George responded. "You're the second person to mention that name. Who is Lasidious?"

Sam shrugged. "Apparently, he's a G.o.d."

George rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right! Can you believe how stupid this place is? These people are stinkin' primitive. They throw around the term G.o.ds as if G.o.ds actually exist." The jerk leaned against the wall of the cold fireplace and put his elbow on top of the mantle. "Heck. These people don't even understand the concept of time."

Sam lowered to the edge of the bed next to Shalee as he responded. "They understand the concept, they just haven't a.s.signed words for specific measurements of time."

George shrugged. "You know what I meant, so stop correcting me."

An awkward series of moments pa.s.sed before Sam continued. "I agree that it's odd talking to these people. It does feel foreign to speak like they do." Sam stood, walked across the room and then looked out the window. Across the street to the south was The Old Mercantile, and across from the mercantile was Margorie's Market. "Regardless of how these people speak, it appears Lasidious has plans for your moments."

George rolled his eyes. "You sound just like these people. You fit right in."

Shalee chuckled. "I told you Sam insisted that we talk like them."

"That's because it's rude not to adapt," Sam responded.

"Sure. Whatever, man," George dismissed. "I haven't got all Peak so quit wasting my moments, and get on with the conversation."

Shalee had to smile at George's sarcasm, but Sam was not amused.

George grinned. "Look, man ... I don't even know who this Lasidious character is. I woke up outside of town, and I've been here ever since."

Shalee responded, "Apparently, Lasidious is the one who brought us here."

"She's right," Sam added. "Lasidious was directed to retrieve us, but he was only supposed to bring Shalee and me. For whatever reason, he brought you as well. From the way it sounds, the G.o.ds don't understand why, and Mosley is also clueless."

George gave Sam an inquisitive look. "Shalee said that name earlier. Who in the heck is Mosley? She said he took the place of this supposed G.o.d of War, Ba.s.sorine."

"George, I told you Mosley is the new G.o.d of War," Shalee defended, "not the supposed G.o.d of War. I've seen Mosley's power."

George looked at Shalee. "Whatever!" He turned to Sam. "What else can you tell me about this joint?"