Lord Dowd stood from his throne and looked beyond the stage toward the bleachers that ascended in front of him. "Councilmen, thank you for coming. I've summoned you here to answer my call for war. Over the past few Peaks, there have been two attacks on my life. During one of these attempts, the King of Lavan perished, as you all know. The weapon responsible for his end was a crossbow crafted by the Order."

The members of the council murmured.

Dowd continued. "I wish to gather our forces and call the dark army to the Battlegrounds of Olis."

An older elf, one who once held Dowd's position, stood from his chair. His belly was now rounded from his lack of training and the five pints of ale he consumed each night. His nose looked like cauliflower, with a strawberry hue, and he had allowed his graying beard to lengthen. But when he spoke, all on the council listened.

Dowd recognized Heflon's presence and willingly surrendered the floor.

Heflon nodded and cleared his throat. "Lord Dowd, I understand the death of a king is tragic, but to call for war would kill thousands of elves. Is war necessary over the loss of one mere halfling? Is there no other way to settle this dispute between the armies without confrontation? Have you tried to contact Boyafed? Have you further tried to find out what he knows of the attack that claimed the king's life?"

Dowd took a deep breath. He did not like the pa.s.sive sound of Heflon's questions. The white army leader respected Heflon by bowing his head to satisfy the politics of the situation, and then reb.u.t.ted, "Councilor, I was scheduled to meet with Boyafed only 5 Peaks ago. It was at this moment when the first attempt on my life was made. Instead of ending me, my spirit-bull of 100 seasons perished from a bolt to his right eye. It, too, was from an Order crossbow."

Heflon nodded his understanding. "I was told the bolt responsible for ending the halfling pierced Heltgone's right eye as well. Is this correct?"

"It is. Each bolt missed my person and killed an unsuspecting target."

Heflon folded his hands and placed them on top of his belly. "Lord Dowd, don't you find it odd that a man trained by the Order would fail to hit a stationary target on two occasions, yet he was able to hit the eye of the beings standing nearest you? The dark army doesn't make mistakes of this magnitude. These were intentional misses, and the bolts killed their intended targets, wouldn't you agree?"

Dowd's face tightened. "Esteemed Councilman ... we could argue all Peak, but the truth of the matter is, the Order is toying with us. Whether the king's end was an official act of the Order or not, his murder was a betrayal of our way of life and a call for war ... no matter how you try to explain it. This was the Order's way of spitting in our faces, and their insult demands reaction." Lord Dowd focused his gaze on Heflon. "If the King of Lavan was your brother, councilman, I doubt that you would feel the need to object."

Heflon looked around the room and studied the faces of the others before he responded. "If the king was my brother, I'd be no better than any other halfling."

The chamber filled with laughter, but Gregory and Dowd were not amused. Once the hall settled, Heflon continued. "War will kill many. We don't have proof the Order is responsible. For all we know, the man who attacked could have nothing to do with the Order at all and simply got his hands on one of their weapons. I don't believe an elf trained by Boyafed would miss. I believe this is the trickery of a misguided marksman."

Most in the room seemed to agree with Heflon, but there were some who agreed with Dowd. The room turned angry as the men shouted their arguments at one another.

The G.o.ds shook their heads as they watched the proceedings grow out of hand.

Alistar addressed Mosley. "The moments have come for you to do your duty. It appears as if Heflon will talk the council out of an aggressive course of action. They'll look for a diplomatic resolution."

Alistar knelt and scratched the top of Mosley's head. "Heflon has a point. This doesn't seem like the work of the Order. The council is sure to agree with his logic, and few will argue against him. You must make them feel the proper course of action is war."

Mosley lowered his head. "I've been dreading the Peak this moment would come."

Hosseff cleared his throat. Mosley looked up and stared into the nothingness beneath the shade's hood as Hosseff's wispy words found their way to the wolf's ears. "Mosley, war is necessary to control the populations of the worlds. You know this. The souls waiting within the Book must be given their chance to live. And some must be given the chance to live again. It isn't evil to do what's necessary."

Mosley snorted. "I understand."

The wolf turned to make his descent down the bleachers. To do so, he had to pa.s.s through the members of the council in order to reach Heflon. As he did, the wolf's body penetrated those who were in his way. The men who experienced the chill of the G.o.d's presence, looked at one another for an explanation as they rubbed themselves for warmth.

Once he was standing next to Heflon, the invisible G.o.d of War lifted onto his hind legs and whispered, planting a seed into Heflon's mind, "War is necessary. The Order has played a trick on this council, and Boyafed wants you to believe that the attacks are the work of a misguided marksman. Heflon, you are far too clever for that. You cannot allow this deception to fall cloud the minds of this council.

"Lord Dowd is right. His call for war is necessary. Only you can make these men see that war is the proper course of action. You must rid Western Luvelles of the darkness that plagues it."

Once finished, Mosley reascended the bleachers. Again, the men warmed themselves as he pa.s.sed through their bodies and then stopped next to Alistar. "Let's see how my manipulation worked, shall we?"

Alistar nodded. "I never tire of seeing how the people react when we pa.s.s through them. I'm sure they'll feel feverish tomorrow. That was a fine bit of suggesting, Mosley. Well done."

"How could you be so blind, Heflon?" Dowd shouted over the council as the men continued to argue their points of view.

After a moment, Heflon raised his hand, and the room quickly quieted. "My fellow councilmen, there may be another side to consider. Let us a.s.sume the Order wanted to kill Heltgone. Let us also a.s.sume the Order wanted us to think a marksman was responsible for the attacks. Perhaps they even wanted us to believe they were not responsible because their a.s.sa.s.sin missed Lord Dowd. It would be a fine deception if this council was to believe another man stole the Order's property and wore its colors to end the halflings' king. The Order would get away with murder without fear of retaliation. To attack the king, though a mere halfling, is to attack every member of this council. Despite Heflon's polluted blood, he was appointed as one of us. The moment for war ... is now!"

The room erupted with calls for war. Lord Dowd seized the moment and lifted his blessed blade of the white army above his head. He shouted with all his might. "I call for war! What say you, councilmen?"

The decision was unanimous.

Mosley turned away from the frenzied cries. The wolf looked at Hosseff. "It appears the Collective will have its war. It won't be long before you'll be collecting souls and returning them to the Book's pages."

The shade pulled back his hood. A smoky image of his face appeared. "You have done your duty well, Mosley. But there are other matters on Harvestom that require your attention. Perhaps you should see to it that war encompa.s.ses the centaurs' forests as well."

Mosley looked at Alistar. "Shall we go?"

Alistar put his hand on the wolf's head. "Mosley, I understand how this makes you feel, but I a.s.sure you, you're doing what is necessary to ensure a continuous cycle of life. I'll stay with you until your duty is complete."

"Thank you. It'll take many moments for me to adjust. I'm not sure how to deal with the sick feeling I have in the pit of my stomach."

Hosseff laughed. He lifted his hood and the emptiness beneath it returned.

Alistar and Mosley just stared at the G.o.d of Death as the shade spoke. "Mosley, you will learn to deal with your emotions as the seasons pa.s.s. I like you. I hate knowing your heart hurts." The shade vanished.

Alistar looked at Mosley. "I think the shade likes you ... and he doesn't like anyone."

The wolf shrugged. "I don't know why."

"Hmmmm. Perhaps he likes dogs."

Mosley growled, "I'm not a dog. I am wolf."

The G.o.d of the Harvest grinned and rummaged his hands through the fur on Mosley's back. "I meant no disrespect. Let's change the subject, shall we?"

"Yes. I'd prefer another topic."

Alistar put his right hand to his chin. "I don't think it's going to be necessary to visit Boyafed. I'm sure the dark council will call for war considering recent events."

Mosley sat on his haunches and scratched the back of his neck. "What events are you referring to?"

Alistar rolled up the right sleeve of his robe as he responded. "Hosseff told me Boyafed's Argont Commander was murdered. Boyafed thinks Dayden was killed by the white army."

Mosley shook his head. "None of this makes sense. How could the leaders of both packs be manipulated in this fashion?"

"I'm unsure, but that's what has transpired. I believe Hosseff knows more than he's willing to reveal. The Order will accept Dowd's challenge to meet on the Battlegrounds of Olis. This will be a war worth watching."

Mosley witnessed the last councilman teleported away from the hall, and then he responded. "I must find a way to understand how Hosseff thinks."

Alistar chuckled. "That could take many, many seasons. I doubt I'll ever adapt to the eerie feeling I get when I look into the darkness beneath his hood. It's unnerving, don't you think?"

After mutually agreeing, the G.o.ds departed for Harvestom.

Shalee has worked her way back to the camp Kiayasis abandoned outside Grogger's Swamp. She took the Knife of Spirits from the dark paladin, and she now carries it high on her right thigh beneath her dress.

Sam's disappointment and the pain on his face have been haunting her thoughts. She plans to find the missing piece of the Crystal Moon and then hurry back to Grayham to beg for his forgiveness.

Kepler and Payne are waiting outside the Source's Temple. George opened the temple doors with the key they retrieved from Brayson's shrine. The key vanished after opening the lock. Once inside, George stood on the teleportation platform located at the center of the temple.

Kepler and Payne tried to walk through the entryway of the temple, but George was the only one who could pa.s.s. With nothing else to do, Payne teleported with the demon-cat back to Kepler's lair.

Mary, Athena, Susanne and Garrin woke early. They have eaten a hearty breakfast and have gathered in Mary's kitchen to read from the Scroll of Teleportation.

Though the Head Master stayed the night, he avoided talking about George. Brayson did, however, help the girls devise a plan. The ladies are going to visit Nept, a city that is surrounded by vineyards. After breakfast, Brayson kissed Mary goodbye and departed for other business.

Athena is now only 36 Peaks away from giving birth.

Boyafed and Lord Dowd are speaking via their mirrors. Dowd has delivered the Kingdom of Lavan's call for war, and as expected, Boyafed accepted. Their conversation was short. The dark and white armies will meet on the Battlegrounds of Olis. The war will begin in 50 Peaks of Bailem.

Gregory Id has been asked by Lord Dowd to go to Lavan. The chancellor is to issue the call for Lavan's army to meet with the white army north of Lake Tepp in 20 Peaks. From there, they will begin a 28 Peak march to the Battlegrounds of Olis. The armies will then rest and prepare for battle over the next 2 Peaks.

Dowd has asked Gregory Id to travel to three other destinations in search of support for the war. First, Gregory must go to the sh.o.r.e of Crystal Lake. He is to call on the Ultorian King for any a.s.sistance that he may be willing to offer.

Second, Gregory must go to the enchanted woods of Wraithwood Hollow. He will ask the Wraith Hound Prince, Wisslewine, to call his pack of canine warriors out of the Under Eye and bring them to the battlegrounds.

Third, Gregory must visit the Spirit Plains. The White Chancellor needs to find the king of a race of spirits called the Lost Ones. Gregory must think of a way to capture Shesolaywen so Lord Dowd can use the king's Call of Canair.

Mieonus enjoyed watching Sam save Shalee's life. The event was witnessed through her waterfall. The G.o.ddess enjoyed the pain on Sam's face as he confronted Shalee about her unfaithfulness. She also enjoyed Kiayasis' demise. The dark paladin's end has given the G.o.ddess of Hate an idea.

Mosley and Alistar are on Harvestom. The famine created by the G.o.d of the Harvest is spreading across the Kingdom of Kless and desperate moments are beginning to turn the centaurs against one another. There have been four cases of cannibalism reported amongst the browncoats. Neighbors are afraid to open their stable doors and live in fear for their lives.

The King of Kless is convinced, now more than ever, that the King of Tagdrendlia ordered his kingdom's Seeds of Plenty to be stolen. Without the seeds to produce crops for his lands, Lasolias' browncoat race will eventually starve. Lasolias also believes his centaurs are no longer strong enough to fight the blackcoats. He fears his bag filled with the Seeds of Plenty may be lost forever.

On the other side of Southern Harvestom, in the Kingdom of Tagdrendlia, Boseth has collected a bountiful harvest, and his blackcoat army is healthy and strong. Boseth believes his race can withstand an advance by Lasolias. Boseth has tried on three occasions to tell Lasolias he does not have his bag filled with the Seeds of Plenty, but Lasolias won't listen.

The browncoat and blackcoat kingdoms have enough abhorrence over one another's appearance without the missing Seeds of Plenty being an issue. This racism has existed between the centaurs since the creation of the new worlds.

Brayson has arrived inside his floating office, and he is waiting to meet with the King of Southern Grayham. Sam is expected to arrive shortly.

Gage and the other goswigs are free of Strongbear's constant barking of orders. Once they voted to pool their magic and bring winter to their underground village, the large brown bear retired to his cave, and he is now hibernating.

Marcus is watching Gregory. The moment is approaching to carry out another step of the plan that he created with George at the Head Master's shrine.

Lasidious and Celestria are inside their home beneath the Peaks of Angels. Lasidious plans to visit George during the mage's next dream. George will need to work at a rapid pace to avoid the problems that may arise as a result of the Head Master's journey to visit George's when while traveling into the past with Mogg.

Thank you for reading the Luvelles Gazette

CHAPTER 18.

An Ancient Dragon The Mountains of Oraness Just Outside The Source's Cave AFTER STEPPING ON THE TELEPORTATION PLATFORM inside the Source's temple, George appeared in the same alcove that Brayson had visited with Mary. The mage was looking at the flames that burned above the pool and surrounded Fisgig's perch.

Holy c.r.a.p, that's hot, George thought as he put up his hand in front of his face. d.a.m.n, those cliffs are tall. What the...? You got to be freaking kidding me. Is that...? The d.a.m.n water's on fire. What the h.e.l.l. It's not even boiling? Something's up with this joint. Where in the h.e.l.l am I?

Okay, Georgie boy, focus. Think, man, think. Pull your head out of your a.s.s and let's figure out what the dealio is. Looks like there's no way around the fire, so now what?

George could see the entrance to the Source's cave on the far side of the pool. He closed his eyes and tried to teleport, but nothing happened. Okay, well that didn't work. Brayson must have some wicked mojo cast on this place.

d.a.m.n it, George, think. I can't go back, but if I walk any further, the flames will burn me to a crisp. There's got to be some way to get across.

Hmmmm, what do I have in my bag of tricks? What kind of garesh will mess with fire?

George lifted his hands. A blizzard erupted from his palms. The ice covered the entire surface of the pool, and for a brief moment, the flames subsided. While they were down, George saw some sort of bird sitting on a perch at the center of the pool.

Now, we're getting somewhere. Why is a d.a.m.n bird sitting in the flames? Wait! Oh man, oh man, oh man! What if it's...? No way! You've got to be kidding me. That's Brayson's goswig!

Okay George, think. If that's his phoenix, then why isn't it attacking? I did just cover it with ice. Wonder why it's not all p.i.s.sed off. Shouldn't the ice have p.i.s.sed it off at least a little bit? Maybe the intensity of the magic wasn't strong enough for it to give a garesh. Maybe it's not supposed to attack. Maybe this is some sort of mental game for me to figure out. Perhaps I need to hit it with something a little stronger ... something a little more harmful to fire. What's fire's worst enemy? Water ... yeah, water ... but not just any water. Let's show this little b.a.s.t.a.r.d a tidal wave. I bet that'll rile his a.s.s up.

Wait, what if it doesn't work? What if I only manage to p.i.s.s it off and it decides to kill me and pecks my eyes out?

George ... come on ... you've got to stop this. You're standing here talking to yourself like an idiot. I bet the phoenix is sitting over there thinking he's spotted his first moron. You can't let this feather-head freak psych you out.

Holy b.a.l.l.s ... I am a moron. I'm sitting here talking with myself, about myself, about what a d.a.m.n bird thinks about me. I'm insane.

d.a.m.n it. Pull it together. If I don't do something, I won't get to the other side. And why does it have to be so d.a.m.n hot around here anyway? Was a d.a.m.n phoenix the only goswig he could've picked? Criminey! George wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and then fanned the front of his tunic.

Okay ... sack up, Georgie boy. Grab 'em like ya got a pair, and let's put it all on the line. Let's see what this little freak is made of. George lifted his hands. "Try this on for size, you little flamer!"

Instead of ice, a mammoth wave of water erupted from his hands and rushed across the area. It extinguished the flames and plowed into Brayson's goswig. The force of the wave left the phoenix with no choice but to use its talons to cling to its perch, and it took all of the goswig's might, power and concentration to do so.

George followed the wave with a quick bolt of lightning that hit the base of Fisgig's perch. The shock traveled up the wet surface and surged through the bird's crimson body. The phoenix fell to the ground and started convulsing.

George watched as the tidal wave reached the far side of the clearing. The water rebounded off the cliff walls and then headed back in his direction.

George's eyes widened. Oh c.r.a.p! I didn't think of that. George had to throw up a wall of force to keep from being swept away. He chastised himself. Way to go, idiot. You could have killed yourself. I mean ... where else would that much water go, dumba.s.s? You're standing in a toilet bowl made of rock. Use your head, George. Geesh!

A long series of moments pa.s.sed before the water finished funneling into the mouth of the Source's cave. Heavy steam billowed out of the entrance and crept up the side of the cliffs.

Again, George began to think. Looks like it's going to be hot in there, too. I wonder what's causing the water to turn to steam?

George lowered his wall of force and then sloshed his way toward the entrance. As he did, he saw the phoenix lying next to the base of the cliff near the opening of the cave. The bird was not moving.

George trudged through the pool and knelt next to the goswig. He plucked one of its feathers and then put it inside his tunic. Fisgig winced when the feather was pulled, but he remained unconscious. George did not wait to see if the bird would perish. Instead, he made his way into the mouth of the cave and disappeared into the darkness.

It took a while, but eventually Fisgig managed to lift himself off the ground. He shook his head to collect his bearings and then whispered, "This Mystic Learner is far more advanced than any other before him. I must speak with Brayson."

The cave was dark for the most part, but still navigable with the naked eye. Rivers of lava surfaced and ran along the floor before disappearing into the mountain. The glow from the molten liquid created an eerie feeling, and the air was pungent. Steam billowed along the stalact.i.tes covering the ceiling, and the condensation was dripping off their ends. Each moment a droplet hit the lava that flowed along the floor, it created a puff of steam that lifted back toward the ceiling.