"Everyone on quests goes there, that's why. You strangers ain't the only ones who do that. Villagers do, too, and the Willow's always where they go..."

"Well, you're right there. That's just where I'm headed. I'm looking for... well, someone important, who's supposed to be there, or near there."

Cal nodded sagely, as if he had suspected this all along. The old expression looked humorous on his young face, and Gribly stifled a grin. Suddenly the boy stopped, looking up with an adventurous light in his eyes that the Sand Strider recognized all too well from his own, in times past.

"Take me with you, stranger. I ain't wanting to stay in the South Village anymore, where they're all so stupid. I want to go with you on your quest!"

Splashes from Elia were muted in the background of Gribly's mind as he tried to suppress a sigh.

"I'm sorry, Calloway. I can't do that, much as I'm grateful to you for all you've done. You've saved us, I know... but where we're going, you could get hurt or killed in days. We've almost died so many times on this journey, I sometimes wonder whether I'm really alive after all. And besides, you have a life here. We're just strangers without a family, Elia and I... you don't even know my name."

"Gribly."

"Oh, I didn't realize-"

"The water-girl told me. She says it like she loves you, too."

"I..." Gribly could have hit himself for getting caught off-guard so quickly. The boy had flipped the tables on him in just a few words, and now he was floundering for something intelligent to say. The boy really wasn't stupid, after all.

"I think I understand you, though," Cal said sadly, hanging his head. "I know what it's like, now. My father, see... he died in the burning, when the Demon Man came. The black horse smashed his head in... right while I was watchin'. I never met my mother."

The words came rushing out of Gribly's mouth in response before he could stop them. Dropping on one knee, he grasped Cal's shoulders as if he were addressing a fellow man.

"I didn't know, Cal. I'm sorry. But I think I have a better reason for you to stay behind, now."

"What's that?" The child looked ready to cry.

"You're the only one, or one of the only ones, now, who knows what that pain feels like," Gribly told him grimly. "But that means you're one of the strongest, now. You've got to stay behind and help the other learn. Lead them, and help them grow stronger. I know you're not stupid, Cal, and I think it's up to you to help the other get as smart as you are now."

"Cram, my friend... he know it, too. His brother died, and his sister, too. He ain't stupid, neither."

"Right. Start with Cram. You'll need to become leaders, Cal. Both of you."

"Why?" asked the boy, his voice quivering with suppressed excitement. Gribly opened his mouth to answer, but Elia's melodious nymph voice interrupted.

"Because more of the Demon Men are coming, Cal. There's trouble in the lands beyond your villages; big trouble that's going to burn the whole world if there aren't strong men and nymphs to resist it. The big kingdoms outside are falling to pieces, letting monsters and sorcerers and all kinds of enemies break free to hurt and kill whoever they wish. Now that the Demon Man has come... and the thief warrior, and both of us... any of those enemies can make it to the Grymclaw. To your South Village, and any other village they choose. They're coming, Cal, and Grib and I can't stop them because we've got to stop the Demon Man and our friend first."

Cal was awed. The sea nymph girl had come up on the two boys without their hearing, and now stood behind the Sand Strider in her First Form, water still dripping from her hair even though her eternal blue dress seemed perfectly dry.

"You'll have to be the one, Cal," Gribly said, patting him on the shoulder. "You'll have to prepare everyone for what's coming. It could be in a month, or a year, or ten years... or today. Do you think you're ready? Can you lead them?"

"Yes," Cal said, a determined, scrunched look on his childish face. "I can do it. Don't worry, I can do it. I ain't stupid, and I never will be."

"Indeed," Gribly said, standing.

"But first I'll have to tell you how to get to the Swaying Willow Inn, won't I? You'll need to know so you can catch up to the thief and the Demon Man before they cause more trouble."

"Well, yes, there's that," Gribly conceded. Elia stepped forward to bend down and hug Cal.

"Thank you, Calloway," she said, straightening. "We can't ever hope to repay you for all of this. It'll be hard for you if the villagers ever find out that you've aided us."

"Oh, oh," Cal stuttered, looking moonstruck. "It's all payment enough," he mumbled, dropping his gaze and blushing. "Payment enough..."

"What a pleasant boy," Elia said, once they had procured directions from Cal and headed off, following the river, which Cal called the Grymslip, in a northerly direction for where he said the mysterious inn could be found.

"That might be more to do with fancying you than listening to me," Gribly joked, and she gave him a glare.

"See if I ever heal the scratches you get from fighting with old men again," she said defiantly.

"Oh, that was you? I hadn't noticed there was a wound at all, really... I'm just that tough."

Elia rolled her eyes and kept on walking. After a minute, Gribly broke the silence again, and this time he was serious.

"This is a harsh land. I hope that lad's up to the task. He really could grow up to be their leader someday... if he survives."

Elia dropped back beside him to talk. "I think you gave him what he needed to hear. You can be a leader yourself, when you're forced, Grib." Her tone was joking but her eyes were serious. The young prophet sighed.

"I just wish I didn't have to be."

"You don't really have a choice. No one does, when they're called on to lead... or just to survive."

"We have that in common, then," he said, and hugged her close for just a second.

On they walked, until the morning turned to day that turned to evening, and they were swallowed up by the red rays of the failing sun.

Chapter Eight: The Swaying Willow.

Two days later, supplies depleted and clothes filthy and tattered, the two Striders finally reached their destination. It had been a grueling but uneventful trip save for the one time a red sunbeam escaping from a cloud overhead nearly set Gribly on fire as he returned from a stealthy trip to the fields of the East Village. He had taken only what was necessary, of course, but it irked him to behave like Lauro had, even if the other scattered hamlets of the Grymclaw reacted in much the same way to travelers as the South Village had.

Then, all in an hour or two on the third day of their trek, the situation improved vastly. Elia spotted the long-lost remnants of the gray road, winding and twisting until it came to run parallel with the Grymslip. A short time more of walking, and the road climbed through a series of b.u.mpy rock-mounds and sudden gulleys that opened up in the land. Towards the end of the day, they came out of the third or fourth of these small canyons onto the edge of an enormous, shallow bowl-shaped depression in the land, and found just where the road had been leading to the entire time.

About a hundred yards away, nestled in the center of the bowl, or perhaps a little farther back, stood an inn unlike any Gribly had ever seen in Ymeer.

It was a conglomeration of different buildings, most made of rough gray stones piled haphazardly together and sealed with a thick, dark mortar. There was a low, round-roofed building that might have been the stable, lumped up next to a series of clumped towers that probably housed guests, which in turn was attached to the main part of the building: a large, thick, square shape with dozens of little windows that glowed with warm yellow light.

There were huge sections of the inn that looked to have fallen apart and been replaced by dark-hued wood. Thatch coated some of the roofs, while tiles formed the makeup of others. There were at least a dozen structures all together, counting the main building and the stables, and some of them looked entirely out of place: a carved stone gargoyle here, a silver-coated archway there, an iron-fenced yard with a vicious-looking gate somewhere else.

Yet somehow the haphazard structure contrived to look inviting... despite itself. And the road led to it as if there were no other logical destination for anyone who might be walking in that direction. As the travelers neared the inn, they could hear the sounds of merriment and laughter inside, with s.n.a.t.c.hes of song and even a few hearty yo-hos in the mixture.

Over the door was a large wooden plaque, once colorful but now worn to almost the same color as the wall. On it was a faded green painting of a willow, tilted to one side.

"Well, here we are," Gribly observed, stopping a bit before the door. It looked more than a bit intimidating, and yet he was undeniably drawn to it.

"Yes, here," Elia echoed, but she looked no more ready to enter than he.

Then the smells came. It had been so long since Gribly had smelled something other than sea-salt and dust that he almost didn't recognize the sensation. Then the hundreds of tantalizing odors from inside struck his nostrils at once, and his mind was made up.

"Do you smell that, Elia?!?" he cried, "They're having a feast in there, or I've never pinched a meal in my life!"

"Pinched?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, but before he had even heard her Gribly was skipping up the steps to the wide front door, pulling on the handle and heaving it open, his exhaustion forgotten.

Elia followed, and neither of them saw the willow-tree painting begin to glow softly with an inner green light, as soon as they had entered.

The interior of the Swaying Willow was twice as chaotic as the sounds coming from within had suggested. Here, there, and everywhere bustled men, women, and even some children, all of different sizes, shapes, color, and dress. It seemed like any normal inn's common room, with a high place in the center for men to drink at, tables and chairs scattered all around the wide, smoky s.p.a.ce, and plenty of brown-clad servants bustling in and out of the ever-milling crowd of patrons with trays and mugs of every imaginable foodstuff.

The light was dim and muted, but substantial enough after the darkness outside that Gribly had to rub his eyes for a minute before he could see clearly. When he did, he almost gasped: a tall, pointy-eared nymph man had just walked past him, a green cloak wrapped around his shoulders.

"There're nymphs in the Grymclaw?" he yelled to Elia above the noise and bustle of the room. She just shrugged, looking small but not so frightened anymore.

There were men and nymphs in abundance, the thief soon realized, in addition to one or two curious persons that seemed to be of an entirely different species.

"It's a melting pot of the whole world," Elia murmured, and Gribly could barely hear her over the rough melody of a small group of musicians plucking a lively tune on stringed instruments over in one corner. The buzz of scents, sights, and sounds was too inviting; Gribly stepped forward into the crowd, pulling Elia with him.

"Let's find the innkeeper. Perhaps he'll have some idea of what we're to do next."

"We... we don't have money," Elia told him, straining to speak over the noise. "How're we to pay for food and drink?"

"We'll find a way!" he a.s.sured her, and then they were at the bar near the center of the room. The bartender, a portly man with an open, flapping shirt that revealed an unnaturally hairy chest, leaned forward to address them, and Gribly was shocked to discover the man had ears like a donkey's, along with two little horns at the top of his head.

"Yeeeess? Whaaat caan I doo for youu?" the man bleated, and Elia gave a little hiccup of surprise, which he didn't seem to notice. Just like a goat! Gribly thought, trying to keep a straight face.

"We... ah... we need to speak to the innkeeper," he managed, and the goat-man squinted at him with a new att.i.tude.

"Aaand whyy woulld youu beee waanting thaat?" he wondered loudly.

"We..." Gribly faltered, glancing at Elia. Her eyes were glazed, and she was leaning to one side, away from him. It's too much for her, he realized. She's never even been outside the Inkwell before. "We're friends," he said finally, reverting to the wheedling tone he'd perfected as a thief. "We... we have a message for him. It's very, very important."

Maybe I overdid that. The bartender frowned.

"Oooh? Aaa messaaage? Frahm whoo?"

Gribly was at a loss, but salvation came from an unexpected interruption.

"It's from Byornleo, the Longstrider," Elia broke in, seeming to shake herself out of the daze that had her. "You know him, do you not?" she added, leaning in conspiratorially to the bartender. "The ranger?"

The curly-headed goat-man reacted visibly to both the name and the t.i.tle. Wringing his fleshy hands, he nodded his head up and down as if he'd expected as much the whole time. "Oooh, riight theen, riight. Ah'll seend someoone wiith yoou, thenn... aand would yoou bee haaving aanything to eeat oor driink fiirst? Frieends oof the Loongstrider neeed noot paay forr theiir sustenaance heere."

As Gribly ordered food and hot drinks for both himself and Elia, he shot the nymph girl an appreciative glance, but she seemed to have sunk back into her daze again, barely aware of her surroundings in an ill-fated attempt to see and hear everything at once.

Soon they were both deposited in a relatively quiet corner of the common room, their packs set aside, with a candle or two to light their table and a jovial, curly-headed, bright-eyed servant boy to wait upon them. Though he spoke more like a man than a goat, his ears and horns- not to mention a conspicuous pair of hairy goat-like legs stuffed into too-small trousers- identified him as one of the same strange, half-animal race to which the bartender belonged.

"Here we are," he said, smiling from ear to ear as he laid a steaming tray of food and hot drink down between the two tired young travelers. "Fresh from the places they was growed in."

Come to think of it, his speech reminded Gribly more of Cal the village boy than anyone else. "Thank you," he answered for them both. "And will you be the one taking us to see the innkeeper?"

"That I'll be," the goat-boy nodded, shuffling his hooves in a rush to be off.

"Wait a moment, then," Gribly said, "And if your other matters aren't too pressing, maybe you can explain a few things to my friend and me."

"Well..." answered the servant, "I suppose I could. Master Bwether did tell me to 'elp you, in whatever you was needing..." darting into the smoky haze of the room's center with the speed of long practice, the boy soon returned with a medium-sized stool, which he plunked down on the side of the table between both Striders. Sitting himself heavily upon it, he wiped his curly brow and leaned his elbows forward on the table.

"Good," Gribly told him. "Now while we're eating, tell us all you care to about yourself and this place. We've never met the... the innkeeper... here at his inn before."

"What would you like me to be startin' with? There's a lot to say, if you've never been 'ere afore."

"I'd like you to tell us what kind of... well, if it's not rude to ask... what kind of person you are."

Able to resist the tantalizing smells rising from his plate, the Sand Strider leaned in to begin business, but as the goaty servant began to reply, Elia cut them both off.

"Gribly... aren't you going to give thanks for the food?"

"What?" Gribly asked in surprise. Elia was staring at him curiously.

"With the Treele, and the Reethe too, we always gave the Aura thanks for our feasts, and the Creator for His goodness in giving us the time to enjoy them. You remember that, don't you?"

"Oh." Gribly thought about it, and he did. "I suppose you want to do something like that now?"

Elia nodded, and bowed her head. Surprised but not annoyed, the servant boy followed her example, as did Gribly, a little miffed.

"Lord of Seas and Skies, we thank You for this bounty of food. Send Your Aura to bring us life and health through this meal... We believe and pray." she lifted her head, and a small chill pa.s.sed up Gribly's spine. That she had remembered to give thanks for the unexpected victory of their first good meal of their journey... even as overwhelmed as she had to be feeling from it all... it scratched the armor of lethargy he had built around his own heart, and he wasn't sure whether he liked the feeling or not.

"We all done?" the goat boy asked timidly, a hesitant smile tugging the edges of his mouth. Gribly shrugged.

"Well, yes," Elia said, looking a bit embarra.s.sed. Gribly couldn't help but feel that he was somehow contributing to her confusion in this new world. She was, after all, no older than he, and with much less experience- despite her iron will in the face of her parents' death.

"Righty, then," bleated the boy. "I'm what's called a Haedus. Goaty, manny, half on half... that's me and all me kind." he winked as Gribly and Elia dove wholeheartedly into their respective meals. "I call meself Leafly, if that explains anything much more to you. The old bartender, what you may be calling the leader of us Haedi, his name's Bwether, or just 'Ol' Beth,' if you want to make him mad sometimes... We all- but espec'lly Bwether- work for Ol' Swaying Willow, doing whichever he wants, when and how and where."

"The inn?" Elia asked, her face very improperly smeared with a warm yellow b.u.t.ter.

"No, the innkeeper," corrected Leafly, frowning. "Don't you even know his name?"

This time, it was Gribly who came to the rescue. "He always went by a different name, when we met him. We've come from a long, long way off- farther than the entire Grymclaw, in fact."

Leafly raised an eyebrow. "That all? I've been goin' farther than that, for sure... Ever been to the Sandlands? Nation? Westren? Rune?"

"No... where are they in Vast?"