Guinevere-971 – Ooh, good question… Um… I guess because it was a fun idea, but also because Mrs. O'Connor would probably then get very excited and not want them to leave because she'd want to be there if they had kids or something, and would want them to come back a LOT when they left, and would want them to tell her everything about Kyrria and would freak out when she found out it was in another world and stuff. Hmm, I dunno if that sounded plausible, hehe. Tell me if it didn't.
Gayle – For Beta Readers, pretty much what I need is someone to: catch typos/errors that I missed; tell me if something doesn't seem right, like for example, how easily Val adjusted to the US, etc. and, if you have ideas, what I could change to make that better; that kind of stuff. Pretty much just what you feel you want to do. I guess you could call it flaming for some of the stuff, though as long as it's not said in a mean way, I call it constructive criticism, heehee. I think that's mostly what it is. Let me know if you try to email me, or (if you do this), you could post your email address and I'll email you for more info. Thanks.
Chapter Twenty-five: Guardians and RememberingWe rode into the village just before dark, as we had hoped. We dismounted in front of the inn and I gratefully pulled off my helmet, looking forward to being able to take off the rest of the hot, sweaty armor in our room.
We walked inside and went to the counter the innkeeper was standing behind. We waited politely until he turned around.
"Ah, may I help you?"
I nodded. "Yes. Could we have a room and food and stabling for two horses?"
He nodded and named a reasonable price. I nodded back.
"That's fine. Oh, could we get an extra cot, too?"
He looked a little surprised. "Do you have another person coming with you?"
Shean and I looked at each other out of the corner of our eyes. "Um, no, we'd just like two beds, please," I replied uncomfortably. This guy was acting quite odd.
He shrugged and went off to find people to get the horses and get a cot up to the room. Shean and I went to sit down at a table and ordered our food.
"What was that all about?" Shean whispered once while we were waiting for the food.
I shrugged. "I dunno. Guess he's just weird."
Shean shrugged. I had some ideas of what made that innkeeper act like that, but I didn't feel that we didn't need to discuss them in the dining room of the crowded inn.
Our food finally came and we at it quickly, and then the innkeeper called a boy to show us to our room. We found that it did indeed have the extra cot we had requested, to my relief. We put it about five feet away from the other one and then took turns changing into our night clothes behind a little privacy screen we rigged up with a blanket. We collapsed into bed and were soon asleep.
We left early the next morning, having the first breakfast of anyone in the inn (much to the cook's displeasure). We got the horses, Killian running at our heels, tacked the horses up and mounted to ride away into the sunset. (Well, it was actually a sunrise, but whatever)
That afternoon, we stopped by a large rock to eat, and I finished my lunch quickly and was waiting for Shean to finish his, when a thought struck me. I reached into my boot and pulled out a very sharp little knife. I sighed. I wasn't going to be able to do it myself; I would have to ask Shean for help. It was going to be interesting to see his reaction to my necessary task.
I held the knife behind me and went to sit down next to him. "Shean, when you look at me, what do you see?"
He looked up, startled at the question. He probably thought I was fishing for compliments. "Um, I see the most beautiful princess in the world who asks very odd questions." He started to lean towards me, but I put my knees up to my chest, my elbows on my knees and my head on my hands and looked up at the sky.
"See, that's kind of a problem." I looked back over at him to gauge his reaction: definitely confusion.
"Um, I don't get it. Is it a riddle or a joke or something?"
I shook my head. "No. But if you see the most beautiful princess in the world –" I made sure I emphasized 'princess' "– then we have a problem."
"Why?" Yes, I decided, definitely confused.
"Okay, lets say you were walking around in your home village and you saw a girl in armor that looks exactly like your princess, and she's with a boy and a couple horses and a dog that looks like nothing you've ever seen before?"
"I'd think that she was beautiful, he was handsome, and they were going somewhere."
"Stop flattering yourself. What would you think if you were from Ferrel and you saw a girl in armor that looks exactly like the Kyrrian princess, and she's with a boy and a couple horses and a dog that looks like nothing you've ever seen before?"
"I would think she was beautiful, he was handsome, and – that she was a good target for an assassin." He put his face in his hands and groaned.
"Now, what would you think if you saw two plain-looking boys in armor, a couple horses, and a dog that looks like nothing you've ever seen before?"
"I'd think that the little one was cute and the bigger one was ravishingly handsome and that they were going somewhere."
"I told you to stop flattering yourself. Besides, I'd still be beautiful, right?" I asked, teasing him.
He started. "You? You're not thinking of – of – of…" I nodded and he shook his head. "No. No, no, no. If you cut your hair, not only will you cut your head or your neck and bleed all over, but I'll never speak to you again."
I nodded to show my agreement and he sighed in relief. "Exactly my view. That's why you're going to do it for me."
He stared at me. "No. I refuse. You can't make me."
One gag, two pieces of rope, tied hands and feet, and a knife six inches from his neck later, he agreed to help me.
What came away from the boulder about forty-five minutes after noon was different from what sat down for lunch there. There was still a nineteen-year-old boy with shoulder-length blond hair and ice blue eyes riding a silver mare with a little dog trotting at the horses heels, but there was an eighteen-year-old boy with golden-brown hair in a Luke Skywalker haircut and blue eyes on a big palomino gelding riding along with them. After that, we didn't get any more odd looks from innkeepers when we requested an extra cot, and we were less likely to be targets for assassins from Ferrel.
We had been riding for several days when I figured we probably needed to talk about how we'd retrieve the Stones from their Guardians. When we stopped for lunch, I decided to bring up the subject.
"Hey, Shean, you've heard about the Stones, right?"
"Sort of. Well, I've heard vague hints and clues, but not where they are or anything like that."
"Well, I thought we should probably decide how we should get them away from their Guardians so we're prepared when we get there."
Shean nodded. I had most of the story of where the Stones were and who held them memorized, as it had been a favorite bedtime story when I was little, and my mother would tell it in segments, telling a part of it each night until she eventually finished the whole tale. She had always added her own parts after telling about where each Stone was now located, a bit about a brave knight who outwitted the Guardian of the Stone and gotten it back to return triumphant. Unfortunately, those were the parts I was a little hazy on, so we'd have to figure it out ourselves.
"So do you remember what the first Guardian is?"
"Ye… no, nope," he said, shaking his head. I rolled my eyes.
"Shean, you're a nut."
He grinned. "I know. So, what is the first Guardian?"
I sighed. "A basilisk. I don't even know if there are any around here. Though I guess that we're kind of leaving civilization now, and we'll probably have to either beg shelter in barns for the night or sleep out in the open. So when we beg for barns, we can ask if there's a basilisk lair around here."
Shean nodded. "Okay, that works. So, what do we do to get the Stone from him?"
I shrugged. "I dunno."
He stared at me and then burst out with, "What do you mean you don't know? I thought you said you knew the story forwards and backwards!"
I sighed. "I do. I didn't say I knew how to get the Stones, though. No one's ever accomplished that. No one who has gone up against the Guardians has come back. And believe me, there are many brave men who have tried. It's not going to be easy, but we can do it. Besides, the locals may know something," I added hopefully.
Shean scowled and turned away, pulling his hand up close to his chest to eat his sandwich, showing his displeasure. I sighed, but let him brood in peace.
That night we hadn't come upon a village, so we had to camp out. The next night, however, we stumbled upon a village around dinnertime, a little before dark. We had decided to see if we could barter food and lodging for entertainment since we had brought our guitars like travelling minstrels. As it happened, we found a family that would house us, and we gave a performance and every family that came brought a little bit of food in order to be able to watch, which worked well for everyone. It worked so well that Shean and I decided to see if we could arrange this in all the rest of the villages we came to.
After our informal concert, we chatted with our hosts in their family room in front of the fire.
"We're gathering local legends on our travels," I began, addressing the parents. The three children sat at their feet. "Are there any monsters or such in this area?"
To my surprise, the youngest kid, a little girl of about ten piped up. "Yes, all of the kids tell stories about the big lizard that lives in a cave. He's all gray and his skin is pebbly and he can turn you to stone just by looking at you," she added, obviously in awe of this mystic beast.
Her father put a restraining hand on her head to stop the flow of words. "The basilisk is just a story, that's all."
"Ah, but that's what we're after," Shean reminded him.
"Please, go on," I added, hoping the little girl would continue. She looked up at her father, who shrugged. She grinned and turned back to us.
"Well, they all say that if you're out near the cave and the pebbly lizard is near, you can put it in a trance by making soft music or singing a soft song. That way, you can keep singing as you walk away and the lizard won't remember what happened and will forget you were even there. They say that there's lots of statues of people who didn't know that near his cave, though."
I nodded, filing this away. "Thank you. That's a wonderful story. I'm sure that everyone will be glad to hear it when we tell it in the other villages we're going to visit."
The girl grinned ear to ear, obviously feeling important for having been able to supply us with such excellent material. I smiled back.
We talked with the family for a while longer before going to bed. We had heard some other local stories, but nothing of importance to the basilisk. Luckily, what we had learned would help at least a little. I was glad now that we played acoustic guitars instead of electric, since that would make it easier to play music for the basilisk when we found it. Shean and I talked about this for a while before falling asleep to dream (well, in my case, at any rate) about seven-foot tall gray lizards and stones with pictures inside.
A/N: I hope that wasn't too short. The next chapter should (hopefully) be shorter. And a quick note: I got to the end of my reserves of extra chapters, so if I'm a bit late uploading the next chapter, which I'll get right to work on starting (gotta get back in the habit of getting on my laptop every day), please don't get too mad. Thanks.