George responded, but failed to answer the question. "Why are you dressed like Robin Hood? You're not a little off, are you?"

Jason frowned. "Do you not know your name, or are you ignoring me on purpose?"

George shrugged as he looked across the large, gently sloping meadow that was covered with brightly colored flowers, none of which George had ever seen. He then looked to the west and followed the dense tree line to the north. The world of Luvelles was hanging above the horizon. What the h.e.l.l? he thought. Turning to his right, he scanned the rest of his surroundings. The world of Harvestom was hanging above the opposing horizon. George shook his head, closed his eyes and then reopened them. Once he determined he was lost, he looked at Jason. "Everything is sure colorful around here. Much nicer than where I'm from." He did not want to ask where he was since he did not know this guy, and he could not have Jason thinking he was clueless.

"You're right, it is beautiful," Jason responded. "The G.o.ds bless us. But don't you think you should tell me your name, boy? You're being rude."

George feigned his remorse. "Oh, sure. Where are my manners? I'm George."

"From where do you hail?" Jason responded, without hesitation.

"From Orlando. Why?"

"Well, George, from Orlando, well met. I can't say that I've ever heard of your kingdom."

Kingdom? George thought. How do I respond to that? "You'll have to cut me some slack here, man, I'm at a loss for words."

"You speak in a strange manner," Jason slurred. "I cannot say the place you hail from is known to me, but I can extend my hand in friendship."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure thing. Friends it is." George looked to the south again. "Where are we? Do you always hang out in the middle of nowhere?"

"You're between the town of Lethwitch and the Enchanted Forest."

"Okay. So ... why are you out here?"

"Well, recently, I learned ... ummm..." Jason's voice drifted off.

George looked at the hide holding the tonic."That must be some pretty wicked stuff. What were you going to say?"

Jason took another swig. A ma.s.sive smile appeared on his face as the level of his intoxication increased. "Don't tell anyone, but I know a secret."

"Right on. I think we all do. So what does your drunk a.s.s know that I don't?"

Jason grinned. "It wouldn't be a secret if I told you."

George rolled his eyes. "You're killing me. Why did you mention it?"

The traveler's eyes looked droopy as he responded. "I should've held my tongue."

Now George had to know. "Whatever your secret is, I could always help you out. Why don't you let me? Think of it as a way of saying thank you for saving me."

The RV salesman knew he had no intention of following through with the gesture, but he had to know Jason's secret. He knelt. "Tell me ... what were you really doing out here?"

"Well..."

"Well what?" George urged.

A fair series of moments pa.s.sed before Jason replied. "I suppose you look like a trustworthy fellow. I could use the help." The traveler looked George over from head to toe. "I see no reason why we couldn't share the rewards. They would be significant."

"What rewards? What are you talking about?"

Jason continued to slur as his response drifted. "We could always split the gains. There would be enough wealth and power ... ummm ... uhh, to go around after you've completed the task."

"Task?" George queried. "What task?" He liked what he had heard. The words "wealth" and "power" sounded good. "Talk to me, man."

Jason continued. "Do you ever get tired of being pushed around? I do. I know of a map that was lost near the Pool of Sorrow. Rumor has it the map was lost many seasons ago, but..."

George watched as the traveler struggled to focus. Jason stared at his hands as if something commanded his attention. Once he determined nothing more would come of his pondering, he lifted his head and continued. "The map is said to be under a boulder near a tree closest to the outlet that flows into the Cripple River. It reveals the location of a hidden treasure. I was going to retrieve it and sell it. The map is worth an amount of coin that I've never had or been able to imagine. The only thing worth more than the map is the treasure it leads to. I would go after it myself, but the beast inside the cave ends the lives of all those who enter."

"Wait a second," George interrupted. "What kind of treasure?"

Lasidious knew he had George's full attention. He knew the mortal was greedy. The Mischievous One smiled within as he continued to play the role of the wounded adventurer. "The map is said to lead to a Staff of Petrifaction. The staff can turn things to stone, but there's one qualification to that ability."

George rolled his eyes. "Stone, huh? Do you really expect me to believe that? You're drunk as h.e.l.l, aren't you?"

Jason looked up at George and squinted as if he was trying to focus. "Why would you doubt what I'm saying? The medicine is strong, but it doesn't change the truth."

George thought, Oh my freaking h.e.l.l, this guy is serious. He smirked. "So what's this qualification?"

Jason's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"You bet. Why not?"

A sinister look appeared on Jason's face. "The staff can only be used by dwarves. I'm sure you know of the dwarves on Trollcom."

"Of course, I do," George responded. "Doesn't everybody?" Freak!

Jason motioned for George to come closer. "What the map doesn't divulge is a way to secure the power even if you're not a dwarf. The staff isn't solid. Its center holds a liquid. If a man was to drink it, he would receive the ability to turn things to stone."

George backed away. "Sounds like B.S."

"I a.s.sure you this is real and not this 'B.S.' you speak of. If other men knew, they would kill for the opportunity to lay their hands on the staff."

George rolled his eyes. "If what you're saying is true, a guy could do well for himself with that ability."

Jason motioned for George to stop speaking. "You're not thinking large enough, but I do believe you see the value of the artifact. If you were to acquire the staff, together we could take control of Grayham. Can you imagine the wealth we would acquire while ruling kingdoms? This would be far better than simply doing well." Jason smiled.

"You're right," George replied. He turned his back to Jason and looked toward the town. Too bad you're full of c.r.a.p, he thought. But as his mind continued to race, he could not help but fantasize about the possibilities. He looked toward the tree line of the Enchanted Forest and blurted, "If I could get my hands on that staff, I could mess with folks. Ha! I could even get rid of that ex-wife of mine. Abbie would be able to live with me again." He looked back at Jason. "Of course, I would need to take my new best friend with me once he was back on his feet."

"But, of course." Jason hiccupped and then burped. "I can tell you're a man of your word. Who's this Abbie?"

"She's my daughter," George responded.

"Ahhhhhhhh ... I'm sure you would do anything for your loved one. But I have one question. Do you have the courage to face the beast inside the cave?"

"h.e.l.l if I know." George scratched the top of his head as he imagined what the beast might look like. "Courage isn't my problem. I'm not the best fighter. What would I be getting myself into?"

"I'll tell you everything I've heard. The cave is home to Maldwin. Some say he's a hideous monster who uses visions of sadness to drive those who enter his cave insane. Others say his visions encourage his victims to commit suicide. Those affected walk down the Pa.s.s of Tears and throw themselves into the Pool of Sorrow. A soldier from Brandor once told me that he could hear the beast's victims weeping as they descended the pa.s.s. When they reached the pool, they swam into its depths, and when the moment arrived that their sanity returned, they didn't have the air to surface."

Jason pretended to need another drink. After three large swigs, he wiped the dribble from his chin. "I was told that any man who enters the cave accepts the risk of losing himself. The only way out, if you manage not to lose your mind, is to exit through a pa.s.sage called Sorrow's Release. This exit cannot be seen from the outside since it is protected by illusion. It is said to take 8 Peaks to find the way through the cave."

What the h.e.l.l is a Peak? George thought. "This cave sounds like a pain in the a.s.s. It also sounds fake." He put his hands on top of his head and continued to think. I can't believe I'm going to say this. Ahhh, what the h.e.l.l. "Even if everything you've said is true, how would a guy stop this Maldwin from s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with his mind, find his way to this 'Pool of Sorrow,' and lift this boulder off the map to get to it?" George was becoming anxious despite his disbelief.

"I've asked the same things myself," Jason replied. "I understand your troubled mind. This is no easy task, clearly, or every man would strive to attain the prize."

The traveler motioned for George to come close again. "What I'm about to say, you must keep to yourself. Do you swear to hold your tongue?"

George fought the urge to laugh. This guy is intense, he thought. He really does believe the c.r.a.p he's shoveling. "Sure, whatever, man. I can shut up for a bit of dirt."

The skin between Jason's eyes wrinkled. "Does that mean you'll hold your tongue?"

"That's what I said."

Nodding, Jason continued. "I may have a solution to the problem the beast's visions presents. In town, there's an old mage who has mastered many beneficial uses of magic. He could help. I'm sure he would have a spell that would a.s.sist you through the cave."

"What?" George blurted. "Turning stuff to stone is bad enough, and now you're spouting off about spells?" He reached out to take the hide from Jason. "I'm cutting you off. You've had enough."

Jason shoved George's hand aside. "You must listen to me. You're going to need a spell that's powerful enough to block the beast's visions. You'll need to get close to it to kill it."

" Kill? I've never killed anything. Well, I almost killed my old man, but I wasn't lucky enough to finish him off."

"Wonderful," Jason responded. "That's good."

George took a step back. "You're not listening. There's nothing good about it. I've never killed anyone. Sure, I've come close, but I've never physically hurt anyone that didn't deserve it."

Lasidious enjoyed George's reaction. "I understand the thought of killing is troublesome, but don't you think the beast deserves to perish? His visions have killed many who harbored him no ill will."

George shook his head. "I suppose the beast is bad news since he's hurting people. Killing him would save others, and I do like the idea of the reward." He looked toward the horizon, smirked and then added, "Maybe I could handle it after all."

"Good," Jason replied. "Run to town, and buy the supplies you'll need. You can have my map. You can also have my pack. That should help."

George hesitated. "I don't have any money on me to buy anything. h.e.l.l, I don't have a pot to p.i.s.s in right now."

Jason eyed George. "I get the sense when you say 'money' that you mean coin. Seeing what's on your person, the pot in which to p.i.s.s is on your wrist. It appears my eyes have spotted something of value. It looks as if it might be worth a substantial amount of coin. You could sell it."

Fellow soul ... true to form, and George being the jerk that he was, the object Jason referred to was a Rolex that an old widow from Orlando gave him. She had come into the dealership to buy a new 45-foot Meridian Yacht, which gave George the opportunity to work his way into her life. The manipulator spent six months giving her the attention she was after, and he collected many expensive gifts along the way. The widow paid a small fortune for the watch, and it became a piece of George's anatomy.

"h.e.l.l no!" George snapped. "This watch is worth a ton. I can't replace it."

"I understand," Jason nodded. "It has sentimental value. Too bad. I would hate for you to lose this opportunity. But you do realize, you could always buy it back once you have the means to do so." The traveler paused. "On second thought, perhaps I should keep the map for myself and go after the treasure once I've healed."

George thought for a moment. "You don't mean that. Take another drink. You're right. I could always buy the watch back like you said."

George rolled his eyes and thought, Just give me your d.a.m.n backpack so I can get the h.e.l.l out of here. Spells, staffs, beasts, maps, turning c.r.a.p to stone ... what a bunch of garbage. Just play the game a little longer and clean him out, Georgie boy. The manipulator smiled. "I'll need a larger pack to carry food, and I'll definitely buy that spell you mentioned once I get to town. What did you call that guy again?"

"A mage," Jason responded.

"Yeah, that mage. I might also get a couple of those water pouches you have. Do you think I could borrow that one, too?"

"Sure," Jason responded. "I'll help you however I can. But you might want to consider buying a weapon. And have you thought about torches, a hunting knife, and other supplies?"

George reached under his pant leg and pulled out his pistol. "I almost forgot I had this. It's the smallest .22 caliber made." He reached inside his front pants pocket, fumbled around a bit and then produced a bullet. "This should do the trick, don't you think? There's another one in the chamber."

"I'm not sure what that does, but if you're saying it can only work twice, then I would suggest that you purchase another weapon. Perhaps a sword or a dagger would be a wiser choice. You should hurry along. Rumor has it that someone else is on their way to retrieve the map."

George put his pistol in his right, front pocket and then used Jason's suggestion to excuse himself. "I best get moving. When will your friends arrive so I can get out of here? I want to make sure you get on the wagon." George laughed within, Best place for a drunk, anyway. Ha, ha ... 'on the wagon.' I kill myself.

"Don't worry about me. They'll be here soon enough. I'll have them take me to Lethwitch to wait for your return. The pool is a Peak and a half from here, so you'd better hurry."

With that, George turned to run through the field. His mind raced. How could that clown believe any of that c.r.a.p is true? The jerk grinned. Poor Jason, that b.a.s.t.a.r.d actually thinks I'm going to go after his pipe dream. Screw him and his wagon. He looked up at the two colored worlds above opposing horizons. What's up with that? Since when are there two moons in the sky?

Jason watched until George was out of sight. As soon as the coast was clear, he changed back into his normal appearance and removed the picture of George's daughter from his pocket. "Well, well, Abbie, your daddy isn't easily manipulated. Perhaps stronger persuasion is in order. What do you think? Should I scare him or hurt him?" The Mischievous One put the picture close to his ear. "You're right, Abbie. I should do both. He deserves it for making me work."

Laughing, Lasidious vanished.

CHAPTER 6.

First Flight IT HAD BEEN SIX hours according to the digital watch that Sam took from Shalee since the griffin dropped from the platform at the Temple of the G.o.ds. During flight, Shalee had remained asleep while Sam struggled with a sick stomach.

Sam admired the countryside as the griffin followed the changes in the terrain. He was awed by the beauty-gentle sloping hillsides, farmers' fields filled with crops, children fishing in scattered ponds of all sizes, sporadic forests with tree lines reaching for the sun, and he appreciated all of it despite fighting the urge to barf.

Taking a closer look at the griffin's shadow as the beast soared near the ground, Sam studied the position of its front talons and back paws. They were tucked close to its body to reduce drag. The beast's beautiful, feather-covered head was pushed out in front of the rest of its body to guide the way, and its gigantic wings extended far to either side.

Sam took note of the long, padded saddle they were sitting on. The leather surface had sufficient cushion to pad their backsides and many lengthy straps to tie them in. The ride had been safe, and unless the creature decided to roll or make a drastic movement, they would finish the flight without incident.

He looked at Shalee as she leaned against him. She had a peaceful look on her face. He admired her beauty. Every now and then, he pushed her hair clear of her face to get a look at how exceptionally breathtaking she was.

Mosley's balance was impressive. Sam watched as the wolf bit down on the straps, one from each side of the saddle. The wolf secured the straps under his front paw and then looked over his shoulder to speak. "How are you cubs doing back there? The first flight is usually the most difficult."

Sam hesitated, amused about being called a cub. "I'm doing fine, for the most part. How long are we going to be on this thing before it lands?"

An unexpected voice shouted from the direction of the eagle head. "I'm not a thing, human!" The griffin's head snapped around as it shrieked. "My name is Soresym! You will refer to me in a respectful manner when speaking of me in the future. I should roll, s.n.a.t.c.h you up, rip you apart and then drop you to your death for your ignorance. You will watch your tongue, or I shall pluck it from you."

Though startled, Sam was quick to apologize. "I meant no offense."

The beast grudgingly turned his head back into the direction of flight. "We should be landing on Angels Platform by dusk," Soresym informed. "Beyond, you won't be traveling with me any longer. My kind only travels between Angels Platform and the Temple of the G.o.ds. After this, you'll be traveling with the hippogriffs.

The griffin looked back over his shoulder again. His eyes were piercing as he glared at Sam. "I don't enjoy transporting your kind. I can't stand to be near any of you, or any of the other wretched beasts on this world."

"Then why do it?" Sam queried.

"The G.o.ds require us to do so in order to live within the cliffs beneath the temple. I would not be doing so now, but Ba.s.sorine requested my services. You should've walked down the steps. You're not of n.o.ble blood."