Rooster

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Bloody Fingers: Book of Prologues- Chapter Sixteen

The small boy opened one eye and peeked out from under the pillow that was currently covering his head. The waxed canvas window covering had just been rolled up and tied, so the searing rays of the morning sun shot into the room and stabbed him right in that same eye. He withdrew back under the pillow, his very dramatic groan of agony becoming muffled. 

“Well, good morning to you.” Mara said. “When I bought you, I was told that a rooster is supposed to crow at dawn’s first light.” She could fake the drama as well.

“You didn’t buy me…” came his muffled reply.

“Do you need me to tell you the story again?” the halfling asked with a smile. Starting her tale without waiting for him to agree. “Oh, it was a beautiful evening at the Meadwagon. A gorgeous inn located in Harbortown on the island of MidWay. The stunning proprietress was working behind her spotless bar when…”

“You found me in a barrel. Naked and drunk.” The boy interrupted, peaking out with his other eye this time.

“Now, look here, you grumpy little gnome…” She scolded gently, still smiling. “It’s rude to jump on someone’s tale and tell the end before its time.” His entire head came out and she reached down to muss his thick red hair. “Yes. I found you in a cask, naked and drunk. And you weren’t the first boy I’ve found drunk and naked in my pub. You were just the first to be delivered to me in a barrel! Now get up.” She did a little shimmy to emphasize. “There is work to be done!” 

A triumphant smile spread across his small face. “See! You found me in a barrel. You didn’t buy me!”

Mara stopped at the door and looked back over her shoulder, unveiling the smile of a spider who had just lured the fly into her web. “I bought the barrel, and the contents of the barrel. Thus….” She continued on her way, laughing at the boy’s wide eyes and open mouth.

Rooster spent a few breaths trying to think of a way around Mara’s logic. Failing to do that, he resigned himself to a life of servitude and crawled out of his small bed. He stumbled over to a corner of the room where a rope was hanging down from the rafter and climbed it about halfway. Holding on with one hand, he curled up so he could reach his feet. He twisted the rope around both his ankles and pulled it snug with his free arm. He then pushed his body away from the rope, still holding with one extended arm and the wrap around his feet until his body made an arc. He released his hand, falling backward to hang upside down- his body swinging and twisting on the rope like a reverse hangman. This was an exercise Rooster had started doing in the morning. He was hopeful that hanging upside down would stretch his body and make him a little taller. As he dangled, his body spinning, he caught a glimpse of Tomas standing in his doorway. The serious boy was just watching without judgement, but Rooster still resented him being there. There were only a handful of kids in Harbortown, and Rooster and Tomas had been friends once but had grown apart. Well, Tomas had grown. Rooster was still the smallest person in town. Rooster started curling his body up towards his feet, pretending to exercise.

Tomas Bloodgrip was the first son of Yorn and Chloe. Yorn was the village butcher, and Chloe worked at the Meadwagon, the village inn. Tomas was born almost a full cycle of seasons after Rooster was discovered, yet Tomas was now on the cusp of manhood and had become a respected member of the community. Rooster, however, was still the size of a toddler. If they stood together, Rooster on tiptoes reached just above Tomas’ knee. 

Their difference was not limited to just size. Rooster was treated as a perpetual child by everyone. He was often allowed to sleep in. He was normally given the easiest chores. And Rooster had never been on a hunting trip. Tomas was always up before dawn, and he spent most days hunting in the forest where he almost always returned with meat. Tomas was tall and thin and always serious. Rooster was… Well, Rooster was tiny and playful. Tomas was a provider. Rooster had somehow fallen into the role of the entertainer. It was easy for the small boy to resent all of that. Rooster respected Tomas, but he also hated him a little at the same time.

Tomas had twin brothers who were two cycles younger. Renn and Lenn were shorter than Tomas but were more heavily muscled. Thankfully, the twins were never serious. They were the type of kids that everyone loved, but nobody really wanted them nearby for very long. It was more enjoyable to talk about them than to be around them. They were currently intrigued by wrestling and gladiators, so would most likely be covered in dirt, bruises, and blood shortly after the sunrise. They were fearless, and dangerous, and so much fun. Rooster spent most of his free time near them, much to Mara’s dismay.

The last member of the Bloodgrip clan was Meg. Only six cycles of seasons, but quite possibly the most mature person in that family. She was serious, like Tomas, and quiet for the most part. But even though Meg has just started her education, she could be the most thoughtful and well-spoken of the bunch. She may only use a few words, but they were always the best possible words. She had also shown early signs of divine magic. As a toddler, she had healed small injuries on others just by placing her tiny little hand over the wound. And a kiss of luck from Meg sometimes did more than just raise your spirits. She was a most amazing little girl. And Rooster was terrified of her.

“I have a delivery to make to the Western Station.” Tomas said. “Renn and Lenn are coming. And Meg. She has never seen the blue from up there. Do you want to come with us?”

Rooster winced when he heard Meg’s name, but a trip with the twins could be fun. Plus, it would get him out of his chores today and also let him skip his lesson with Bryrieth, the village wizard. Mara had been paying the young man to teach Rooster about enchantments. The gnomish boy’s childhood and education has lasted for so long now, it was becoming hard to find new things to learn. Rooster was a quick study, but the wizard was one of the unhappiest people the boy had ever met. His class normally consisted of giving Rooster a book and making him sit outside reading and memorizing the text and images. Then, Bryrieth would make Rooster draw the runes while explaining them. It was boring. It was the first time Rooster hadn’t enjoyed learning, so having a reason to skip a lesson would be great!

“Thank you, Tomas. I’ll get dressed.” Rooster said. 

The tall young man nodded, and then turned to leave but stopped, looking back. “You know, I tried hanging like that once in the woods after seeing you. Almost broke my neck. You can do some amazing things, Rooster.” 

Leaving that gift, Tomas walked away. Rooster dropped back down to the floor and started to change his clothes. The tiny gnome couldn’t help but smile. Today was going to be a good day! 

***

Rooster’s education has been extensive. He had learned all the basics such as common letters and simple math with Mara, and then she taught him the halfling language and customs. He had learned the gnomish language from one of the barmaids, Skye. Rooster had still not found out how she had learned it, but she knew enough to teach him to read and write and have conversations. He had then studied the dwarvish tongue with Mr. Ledger, the local administrator of the Gold Pick clan of dwarves. Their mines provided ores and jewels to the harbor merchants. Like gnomes, dwarven children also mature very slowly, so Mr Ledger had been the first person outside the Meadwagon to offer to help with Rooster.

After languages, Mr. Ledger focused on mathematics and engineering. Rooster had a great mind for numbers and equations so was happy for the challenge. Ledger had told him that gnomes were some of the greatest thinkers and inventors in the world, so he had high expectations and pushed the boy. As always, Rooster soaked it all up- quickly grasping advanced concepts and even coming up with a few minor improvements on existing designs. 

The only issue they faced together was the pace of his teaching. Mr. Ledger was, like most dwarves, extremely diligent and unhurried. He made a teaching plan in advance, and then he tried to follow that plan exactly. Rooster was a bit of a whirlwind, quickly bouncing from one focus to another. He was constantly asking quick questions that were usually unrelated to each other and most of which had nothing to do with the day’s lesson. Inevitably about halfway through each lesson, Ledger would get frustrated and pass the boy onto one of his bodyguards to finish the day. 

Time with the bodyguards was less mental, and more fun. They took him down into the tunnels beneath their basement after swearing Rooster to secrecy, exploring the hidden warehouses and the machinery therein. Rooster learned about gears and switches, ores and jewels, and he was even allowed to work on broken machines - taking them apart and putting them back together. He wasn’t strong enough to handle some of the parts himself, but Rooster would instruct his dwarven babysitter through the repair and together they found the boy had a real knack for fixing things! 

He also was taught the basics of jewelcraft. The tools used to shape and design jewels were tiny by dwarven standards- but were perfect for Rooster. He quickly mastered the basics and spent several moon cycles working daily on gems in a dwarven workshop. He was given a large emerald as payment for his work. Rooster etched it with the symbol of the tree and gave it to Mara. The look on her face made that particular moment his best memory so far. In fact, the years he spent with the dwarves were the happiest part of his childhood so far. He felt useful and respected, and probably grew as much emotionally during this time as he did intellectually. Eventually, however, his lessons came to completion and Ledger told Mara to find another teacher. The Gold Pick elders had learned of the gnomish boy in their tunnels and instructed Ledger to put an end to it. Rooster still saw the dwarves almost every day, either in the village or the inn, and still felt a deep connection with them. But he was no longer allowed in their tunnels, and since he had been sworn to keep their secret, he couldn’t tell anyone else about what he had accomplished in the caves beneath their basement. 

And thus began Rooster’s enchantment lessons with the dour wizard, Bryrieth. The young man had stumbled out of the forests many seasons past, and he had collapsed at the edge of town. The village peacekeeper brought him to Meadwagon, where he was cared for by Mara. After a few days, he recovered enough to leave, but realizing the village did not have a wizard- he soon found his place within the community. He kept a room at the inn for a long time, selling his charms and services to both locals and the sailors at the harbor. But then a strange illness began afflicting people down at the docks, thought to be a sickness brought from across the blue- and Bryrieth’s magic seemed to be the only remedy for it. This new source of income allowed him to purchase one of the local buildings and his small shop became a fixture in the village. While he was no longer considered an outsider, his strangeness and his limited interaction with others kept him a relative mystery.

The art of enchantment consisted mostly of learning what the wizard called “true names” and their corresponding glyphs. Some symbols and runic pronunciations were simple. Others seemed outright impossible. However, for the most part, Rooster’s mind was able to grasp the concepts, and his deft fingers had a relatively easy time with drawing and etching the runes themselves. The glyphs had to be created in specific layers- each individual rune connecting with and leading to another. It reminded Rooster of the engineering drawings he had worked on with Ledger where each successive layer added to the overall design. The only tricky part was that there were sometimes parts of the runes that didn’t seem to follow that same logic. They just didn’t seem to fit properly within the design and at times even seemed to work against the pattern. 

Master Bryrieth had raised an eyebrow when Rooster asked him that question but didn’t provide any explanation. He just told him to return to his book and memorize exactly what was on that single page. The page in question described the “true name” and glyph for a feather. And it was one of those runes that contained a part that seemed to be unnecessary, almost like the author had made an accidental pen stroke. 

Regardless, it just didn’t seem to have a purpose and that frustrated the gnome. Needless to say, he found the entire lesson repetitive and boring. So far, the only magic the boy had learned was the name and glyph to produce light. And while that was a pretty amazing trick, it seemed like the teaching had almost stopped after that. Rooster often wondered if the wizard was teaching at a snail’s pace just to keep the payments coming in from Mara. This was just such a drastic change from the last few years with the dwarves that it left the boy constantly agitated and unsatisfied. Getting away for two days would be fantastic!

***

The young gnome came out of the private residence and into the main dining room of the tavern. There were only a few patrons at this time of morning, a mix of sailors and locals. Most people had eaten and were already at work in the village, at the harbor, or in the nearby forests. The Bloodgrip children were all gathered at one of the round tables, ripping handfuls from a basket of bread and dipping those into a bowl of butter and honey. The boys all had water, but Meg was drinking goat’s milk from a horn. Their mother, Chloe, was giving her final words of warning to the twins and nervously fidgeting with Meg’s clothing. The very young girl reached up and placed a sticky hand on top of her mother’s, a tender smile on her face. Chloe looked down at her and seemed to relax a little. Then gave one final hard look at the twins and walked towards the kitchen, taking just a moment to reach out and trying to smooth down Rooster’s hair on her way. 

“Sorry to make you wait. I was finishing my morning workout.” Rooster struck a few ridiculous muscleman poses and the twins, never ones to miss an opportunity for silliness, joined in. Meg giggled, and it surprised the twins as she rarely showed much emotion. They doubled the effort of their pose off hoping for a full laugh, but her attention had already transferred over to the bar where Mara had just come out of the kitchen carrying a tray with wrapped packages. Rooster ran towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist for a moment before releasing her and following back to the table. The twins were now tangled on the floor- wrestling. Tomas let his face fall into his hand with a heavy sigh. 

“Here is some bread, some fruit, and some bacon strips for your pockets.” Mara announced, placing a neatly tied packet in front of each child at the table and dropping two others onto the heads of the kids on the floor. Tomas reached for Meg’s, waiting until she nodded at him before placing it in his backpack with his own. “The stableboys have your mounts ready, so make good time and be back before it gets dark tomorrow.” Rooster looked at his own packet. It was smaller than the others, so he’d be able to carry it on his own. He gave Mara a wink of appreciation and she smiled in a silent reply. “Tomas is in charge of this trip. If he tells me that any of you did not listen to him, you will not step foot in this inn until the next full moon.” She didn’t wait for their agreement. She just leaned down and kissed the top of Rooster’s head, then kissed the back of a small hand that Meg extended her way and winked at Tomas before turning and moving back towards the kitchen.

The group started making its way towards the double doors, Tomas elbowing one of the twins which elicited two “Thank you, Miss Mara” shouts towards the halfling as she walked away. She raised a hand to acknowledge them, at which point a quick “I think she just showed us the finger.” Came from one of the twins, getting laughs from everyone but Meg. She just shook her head, once again disappointed in her brothers.

Outside, the bright sun warmed what would otherwise be a cold day. The weather had finally started to change in the highlands and a cold wind was blowing down from the mountains, making perfect weather for riding as long as you were not in shadow. Rooster saw his shaggy pony had a small bundle tied behind the saddle that looked like a blanket and extra clothing. In fact, all the mounts had similar bundles. “Thank you, mom!” he tried to whisper under his breath.

In addition to the small pony, there was also a giant goat that was saddled and two other goats pulling a light wagon filled with sacks of supplies. The goats were the size of large horses. They were not as fast as a horse at full gallop, but they were more nimble and sure-footed creatures. Plus, even though these were not war goats- their sturdy bodies and horned heads provided more protection than just hooves. Tomas mounted and Meg was passed up to sit in front of him. The twins clambered up onto the wagon, pushing each other to see who was to be the driver. Rooster wasn’t sure who won, Renn or Lenn. Rooster had to accept help from the stableboy to mount even the small pony. Meg was the only one who even seemed to notice, and she just gave him a small smile of thanks for not trying to climb up on his own. Rooster quickly looked away. He knew it wouldn’t keep Meg from peering inside his soul, but not looking helped him not to think about it.

The children rode west, leaving Harbortown and heading along the edge of the area known as the Rim. It was a thin but high ridge that almost encircled the bay. There were two catapult stations on the northern rim, one at each end of the long arc. They were known as the Western Station and the Eastern Station. There was another catapult station, the Southern Station, which was built upon another ridge that bordered the southern side of the bay. Together, these encampments protected the bay from almost any naval attack. The kids were delivering supplies to the western station, the most isolated of the catapult encampments and the one that tied to the lighthouse with elevated bridges. It relied exclusively on Harbortown for food and materials and was a half day’s ride from the village.

The beginning of the trip was an easy downward slope, as the ridgeline fell away from Harbortown. It then started to climb again, eventually opening out into a large meadow where a herd of about forty giant goats grazed. Grass was always thick and lush on the meadow, as the sea breeze lifted and cooled it dropped rain and often formed wispy clouds that sometimes shrouded the region. An old dwarf lived on this plateau, Silas Trollbane. He was rumored to be a retired captain of the Goat Riders, a legendary unit of Dwarven cavalry. He raised giant goats and lived a simple life now. He sold trained goats once a year as mounts, and he brought milk every few days to sell to Mara- but otherwise he rarely spent time in the village. He’d conduct his business, have a meal at the inn, and then return to his highland home the same day. The kids saw him riding near the edge of the meadow as they rode through, but he neither acknowledged them nor moved towards them- so the kids simply waved and kept moving past the grazing herd. Silas sounded a whistle, and a large doe looked to consider him for a few breaths before starting to his direction. The rest of the herd obediently followed behind their queen with one exception. A huge buck remained behind, stomping and snorting in the kid’s direction. A second whistle from Silas, and the top buck disengaged and also followed along behind the rest of the herd.

Tomas led the kids to the southwest corner of the meadow, where the rim thinned again and began a steep climb. They stopped here to lunch and hobbled the goats and pony by securing a piece of rope around their front legs. The animals had been trained to not chew the rope, and it simply kept them from wandering too far. They sat in the shade of the wagon, and opened the travel packs Mara had given them. Each one held a loaf of bread, a chunk of cheese, crispy bacon, and apples. Rooster’s pack had the same, just smaller portions. The twins whistled in appreciation at the food. Renn challenged Lenn to an eating contest and they both started smashing the food into their mouths, trying to see who could finish first. Eating soon morphed into wrestling, however, as they both kept trying to knock food from the other’s hands. 

Meg sighed deeply, stood up and walked over to their tangle. She reached down and somehow withdrew one of the now half-empty packs. The twins were still straining against each other but jointly showed remarkable physical control and held their positions so as not to bump into the small girl, nor did either resist her taking the one sack. She moved away and their fighting continued, now struggling to get control of the remaining pack. Meg stopped to stand in front of Rooster, digging through the crushed food and then holding out a small piece of bacon to him- which he took. She then crawled into the lap of Tomas and started picking out more pieces of bacon, which she fed to him. Within a few moments, her head leaned against his chest and her eyes closed. One of the twins noticed her and stopped moving. The other quickly followed suit and both returned to sit by the wagon. One of the twins had an eye that was starting to swell. The other had a split lip with a little blood smeared across his chin. Both boys were smiling. Tomas passed the pack back to them, and they reopened both bundles onto the ground between them, picking at the remaining food. Rooster stood and filled horned cups hanging from a keg of water on the wagon one at a time- bringing a cup to each of the brothers and then sitting back down with one of his own. The four boys sat quietly, sipping water from their cups. All showing respect to the tiny queen of their herd.

They rested for a stretch. The twins played a silent hand game to pass the time. Rooster found charcoal and a small piece of parchment inside his pack and started drawing. Tomas simply held his sleeping sister. At some unheard fraternal signal, the twins rose up and started after the mounts. Rooster went and filled another cup with water, handing it to Tomas. Tomas bent his head down and whispered to the little girl. When she awoke, he handed her to the cup, and she sipped at it while the twins hitched the two goats to the wagon and climbed up into their seats- deciding on a driver this time without any further violence. Evidently, the swollen eye won out over the bloody lip and had earned the right to drive. Tomas lifted Meg into the back of the wagon, and then mounted his giant goat, finally turning to look for the tiny gnome.

Rooster had grabbed the hanging reins of the pony which hadn’t moved very far from the group. He tugged at them, but he couldn’t force the stubborn little horse to move back towards the wagon. The pony fussed and stomped, then did a half-hearted rise- almost pulling the reins from Rooster’s grasp. It did not want to leave the meadow and have to climb the ridge again. Like many ponies, it was at heart a very lazy animal. Meg untied a bag near her and reached down into it. She pulled out a handful of grains and quietly dropped them onto the back corner of the wagon. She then retied the grain sack and settled herself back down again. The pony, smelling the feed, trotted toward the wagon. Rooster, smiling at his assumed success, grabbed a handful of its mane and used the momentum to swing himself up into the saddle. The little horse snorted its disappointment at having a rider again, but still followed along behind the wagon as they all moved forward again.

The ride along the rim became a rather steep climb now, thinning to a narrow ridgeline as they left the triangular meadow. The mists were thicker here as the altitude increased. This part of the trip was the most difficult and the most unsettling, but also provided one of the most remarkable views of the entire island at the peak above the cloud bank. At points, the trail thinned so much that two wagons would have a difficult time passing, and the sides of the trail just dropped away into nothingness at the edges. It was in essence a tiny land bridge that was a thousand stacked men above the endless water of the blue. As they reached the apex, the force of the cold wind became a constant pressure against them. At times, it felt like a cold and invisible hand was trying to push them off the ledge. Below them was a layer of clouds that gave this spot a magical feel, as if they walked on a bridge into an alien world. 

The peak of this high, thin trail gave a moment of profound realization. With the ground falling away both in front and behind and the white clouds forming a pristine island beneath them- the incredible expanse of the blue was almost overwhelming. And this was one of the days when the haze of the far horizon made the water and sky blend together seamlessly. It was humbling, and it was also a little frightening to feel like such a tiny speck within the vast immensity. It was Meg’s first time here, and her eyes were wide open. She had a strange smile on her face, like a heavy burden had been lifted from her at that precise moment. She seemed happy. 

Rooster’s pony, however, was not happy!

Its big eyes were wide, and its nostrils flared as the little horse huffed and blew. It had never taken this path before, and the vast emptiness surrounding it frightened the animal. The pony’s feet were moving unevenly as it bounced and shifted. Rooster jumped off its back onto the ground, still holding the reins. Feeling its rider leave, the little horse whinnied and reared, lifting its front legs high off the ground. The tiny gnome was still holding onto the reins, so he was also lifted into the air. Unsure what to do, Rooster hung on until the pony came back down on all fours and then dropped the reins. 

One of the twins was quickly off the wagon and put one hand on the pony’s halter to hold him. His other hand went down to Rooster’s shoulder and gently pushed him back away from the animal- placing the twin’s thick body between the pony and the small boy. Rooster didn’t argue, aware that the pony was in danger of hurting itself and him in its fear. As Rooster backed towards the wagon something fell onto him, entirely covered the small gnome’s head. Rooster stopped moving again, surprised and very confused as he brought his hands up to his head. However, the cloth was immediately pulled away by the twin with the horse, who slowly brought it forward towards the pony’s face giving- the animal the opportunity to see and smell it. Rooster could now tell it was the other twin’s shirt. He must have thrown it back to help. When the twins cooperated, it was unsettling how they could work together without words. The pony continued to blow and huff, but did appear to be calmer as its feet were now steady on the ground. The shirt soon covered the little horse’s eyes and was tied into the halter to help hold it in place. The blinder further calmed the pony, and the animal allowed itself to be led forward as the group started moving again. 

Rooster jumped up to grab the back of the wagon, lifting himself up easily. His eyes locked on the small pile of grain for a moment, before shifting to Meg who seemed to have mysteriously fallen into a deep sleep at that precise moment. Rooster smiled and shook his head slowly as he sank down to sit beside her. 

“Thank you.” He whispered. 

“You are welcome.” The little girl half opened one eye, and then rolled away from him- ending the conversation. Rooster looked down at the girl. She was just reaching her sixth winter, and she was already almost twice as tall as him. It had been sixteen winters since the boy was found in the barrel, and if what Skye had said was true- he had likely been at least five or six when he was found. Gnomes were the slowest aging of all the peoples, even more so than dwarves, which explained their very long lives. Only elves lived longer, but elves matured physically much like humans so they had an extremely short childhood in relation to their overall age. Gnomes and dwarves both matured very slowly, so their childhoods could stretch for many, many winters before they would physically mature into adulthood. For a gnomish boy raised outside of true gnome culture, it was an incredibly difficult and socially isolating process. Everyone around him grew older and changed. Rooster just seemed to stay the same forever. He had done the calculations once. He would watch almost everyone he knew and cared for grow old and die. Mara was a halfling so she had a longer lifespan than most and would at least see Rooster grow into a man, but the majority of the people in the village would die while Rooster was still very much a child. The small gnome sometimes played the part of a clown, but often what he felt inside didn’t seem funny at all. 

“Stop it.” Meg had turned back to him. She was looking inside his head again and what she saw made her uncomfortable. “Please don’t be sad.”

“You stop it!” Rooster whispered to her angrily. He stood up and moved to the front of the wagon to sit on the bench there- leaving the young girl with tears in her eyes. She sighed deeply and then rolled back over to either sleep or hide.

“She can’t help it.” Renn said. Without his shirt, Rooster could tell which twin it was. Their father, Yorn, had given both boys a tattoo at the age of ten. It was a birdlike design, placed onto their shoulder. Renn’s tattoo was on his right shoulder. Lenn’s tattoo was on his left shoulder. Yorn had told them the symbol was the mark of Animkiig the Thunderer, a powerful flying spirit that protected the Anishinaabe hunters from water serpents. He described it like a massive bird of prey that carried lightning in his talons, and boomed thunder from his wings. He had not tattooed Tomas with the mark, so most of the villagers thought it was just a way for Yorn to tell the twins apart.

“She can’t stop it.” Renn repeated.

“It’s not right.” Rooster grumped back. “Knowing someone’s thoughts without words.” He looked over his shoulder and saw Meg wince a little at his words. He felt a moment of satisfaction that he’d punished her, then guilty that he’d taken joy from a little girl’s pain. 

Renn put a hand on Rooster’s shoulder and shoved hard. The tiny gnome flew off the side of the wagon, landing hard in the dirt. There wasn’t enough room for Rooster to tuck and roll without risking going over the ledge, so he simply had to take the fall. It hurt. He looked up in shock as the wagon moved on without him. Lenn, still walking the pony, looked down at Rooster as he walked past.

“She can’t stop it.” Lenn said. He continued on, his pace unchanging.

Rooster sat in the dirt, watching the group continue on without him. He considered just staying there in protest, but he already knew the twins would not stop moving. Tomas would eventually come back for him, since he was responsible for them all. The twins, however, would not baby him and they would not slow down. They just expected Rooster to keep up with them. That was the biggest reason Rooster liked being with them. They expected as much from him as they expected from themselves. Rooster smiled, dusted himself off, and ran to catch up. As he reached the back of the wagon again, a small hand reached down. He grabbed it, and jumped- letting Meg help pull him inside. 

“I’m sorry, Meg.” Rooster apologized.

“You’re not sad now.” She replied. She reached over and placed her hand over a scrape on Rooster’s arm, which made his entire body twitch and tingle for a breath. When she pulled her hand away, the cut was gone. She was a most amazing little girl.

“Nope.” Rooster agreed. “He knocked the sadness right out of me.” He giggled when he said that, and it was definitely not a grown-up sound but it didn’t matter so much right then. He could hear both twins chuckling as well. 

Meg tilted her head slightly and just looked at him for a few breaths. Then, evidently, satisfied with what she had seen- she turned back to the stunning view of the ocean. She closed her eyes and took a very deep breath. “Does the Blue go on forever?” She asked. 

“It can’t.” Rooster answered. “The ships have to come from somewhere.”

“It must be far.” Meg whispered. “I can’t hear anyone that way.” 

The group rode on.

***

The next portion of their journey sloped downward, but the width of the trail doubled or more from its thinness at the peak. Tomas and Lenn both walked beside the wagon now, one on each side. They kept a hand on the sidewall, and each kept a wooden wedge in their other hand in case the wagon brake failed. The goats pulling the wagon took most of the weight, and Renn kept constant pressure on the levered brake to help as well- but if the yoke or tongue of the wagon broke, the boys would try to use the wedges to stop the wagon from rolling. Their load was relatively light this trip, so the risk was small- but there were always at least three people on these deliveries precisely for this reason. They completed this section without issue and reached the next trough where the land leveled out before rising again for one last climb to the station. 

They stopped to rest for a moment, Meg filling four ceramic bowls from the bag of grains and oats and giving a bowl to each of the boys so they could feed the animals. The goats were each given two bowls. The pony was only allowed one, and it protested loudly and even tried nipping at Rooster’s arm in frustration- but otherwise the feeding went well. After feeding, the boys took down four small kegs of water and opened the top before placing one in front of each animal. Watering went well mostly, but the still frustrated pony kept raising its head and blowing wet raspberries at Rooster to let him know the food insult had not been forgotten. Everyone but Rooster had a good laugh! They finished by brushing down the animals, spending quite a bit of time rubbing the muscles in their legs. That extra time also allowed for some of the water and pony spit to dry from Rooster’s clothing. The twins hitched the goats back to the wagon. Rooster and Tomas mounted again, and the group resumed the journey with Meg still in the wagon. 

The final stretch was another steep climb, but it was quite a bit lower than the prior peak so even though the animals were tired they still reached their destination before dark. As they neared the station, they could hear the watchers in the tower shout down to the soldiers on the ground, and so as they entered the encampment there were ten men waiting to greet them. The soldiers wedged the wagon, and then unhitched the animals- taking the goats and the pony into a small barn. Others began unloading the wagon. The dry items went into the lodge, while the fresh meat and fruits were taken down into the basement. A small room in the basement was encased with thick planks and had a tight-fitting door. In that room, a chain hung from the ceiling. It had an engraved copper ball on the end which radiated cold- keeping the air in this room chilled. Tomas had told him about this cooling room before, and it was something that Rooster had hoped to learn about in his enchantment studies, but the wizard had just ignored those questions. If he could build a room like this for Mara, it would a great gift!

Rooster carried a small box of butter into the room, and when the soldiers were not looking- he slipped behind some crates to hide. He waited there until they had finished bringing in supplies and then closed the door. When he heard their footsteps move away, he emerged. Rooster reached into a pocket and withdrew a dead firefly. He crushed it in his hand, smearing it onto his fingertips. He closed his eyes and pictured a small metal ring in his mind. He only took a moment for him to focus on that image entirely, and he felt a warm buzz inside his body. The rune for light was relatively simple. Putting all of his now dirty fingers together as if he was making a snake head shadow puppet, Rooster drew a small circle in the air. A faint golden sparkle in the air held that shape. When he reached the top of the circle again, he slashed down in a straight line bisecting the round shape and then drew another shape on top of it that he always thought of as boobs. He finished by making another half circle and speaking the glyph’s name, ‘phos’. His hand opened, and a small globule of light shot from his open palm- floating forward and sinking into one of the wooden planks on the wall. The plank burst forth with a bright light, blinding the young boy for a few breaths as his dark vision wasn’t prepared for the quick change. He’d need to remember that for the next time. 

His gnomish eyes quickly adjusted, and he began to push and stack small crates and boxes under the hanging enchantment. He climbed up his makeshift tower and sat down beneath the copper sphere- looking at the engravings on its surface. What he could see looked incredibly simple, but Rooster knew that there would likely be multiple layers in place to build the rune. Rooster would need to try and imagine different symbols that he had already seen in the enchantment books, and layer them together in his mind to recreate the entire image. He was confident that he could figure out the symbols. The very first thing he had been taught was the runic alphabet. There were only twenty-five base rune shapes (twenty-four actually, but one had two forms depending on where it was placed in the glyph stack). It was a straightforward puzzle to try and disassemble the parts of the completed glyph for cold. The hard part would be deciding which runes to lay down first. Plus, this rune did have one of those marks that didn’t seem to have any discernible reason. Or perhaps it was just a mistake by the engraver. Master Bryrieth had made it abundantly clear from the first day that improper placement of the runes could be dangerous, but Rooster also knew that risk sometimes led directly to reward.  

Rooster took out a small book with mostly blank pages. It had been a gift from Mara, who had tired of seeing Rooster with doodles inked onto his arms. He removed a sliver of charcoal and sketched the glyph- before climbing back down to sit on the floor and study it. First, he pretended to be holding a pen, and simply traced in the air over the image again and again, allowing his muscle memory to find the most familiar movements. This process alone quickly gave him three definite matches, but also left two other runes that were feasible. It was possible the glyph could contain one, the other, or even both of those symbols. He had not seen any glyphs yet that duplicated runes, so that seemed unlikely. His theory gave him at least four, but possibly five runes to consider. Rooster wrote them all down on the page. He then tried putting them together to try and make words. He had been given basic pronunciation lessons so that helped him. In the end, he had a four-rune glyph that looked like a strong possibility. 

Rooster stopped for a moment to rub his hands briskly together. The cold was making his fingers tingle, and he was shivering. A big yawn took him by surprise. The ride here must have taken more out of him than he’d expected, and he felt really tired. Still, he was close to the end. He could figure this out!

Rooster closed his eyes to focus on the metal ring image in his mind. He felt a little dizzy with his eyes shut, so he reached out his hand to brace himself against the boxes. The mental image of the ring was vibrating, and Rooster realized it was most likely just an echo of his shivering. He focused more intently, and the ring solidified and began to turn slowly. He felt the buzz of the magic also come into focus, and the energy seemed to warm him as he was no longer shivering. 

The young gnome reopened his eyes. He withdrew a clean page and started to draw. His fingers were still stiff and numb, but he managed to draw the kappa rune. He then rubbed his hands vigorously together, trying to warm them- and then he drew an omicron rune directly on top of the kappa. In simpler terms, he drew a circle around the first symbol. That was two… Rooster stopped, trying to remember the next rune. He knew his guess contained four runes, but now he was having trouble recalling the glyph he had decided to try. Another huge yawn enveloped him… 

Rooster shook his head vigorously, like a dog shaking off water. That was a mistake. The dizziness hit him again, hard this time, and he swayed- his head hanging down heavy on his neck. He put a hand out to the side and steadied himself. He took several deep breaths and focused once again on the imaginary ring. He mind and body seemed to strengthen once again with that buzzing energy. The foundation rune was kappa. He needed to draw that first. His eyes were having trouble focusing on the paper. Perhaps his light spell was already fading. Oh well, he didn’t need to look to draw a simple kappa rune. His hand moved clumsily, and then he dropped the bit of charcoal. He looked down and managed to pick it back up. He went back to the page, but it wasn’t clean now. The light seemed to dim. Perhaps his light spell was fading. It didn’t matter. He could draw a kappa rune in the dark. His hands felt stiff and hot now as he marked on the paper. It reminded Rooster of when he’d been stung by a wasp on his knuckle. His hand had swollen a little and it had felt hot from the venom. It felt like that now. And he was tired… Still, he was close to the end. He was sure he could finish. The first rune was kappa. No! He had already drawn that one. He needed another. Upsillon. He remembered that one. It was one of the easiest to draw, like a horseshoe. Or one boob. 

Rooster giggled. So many of these runes looked like boobs to him. The twins would laugh if they could see his thoughts like Meg. Maybe Meg would too, plenty of people thought boobs and butts were funny! Rooster needed to draw one boob. He didn’t know why that was taking so long. Even with his wasp bitten fingers he could do that. His hand shook as he tried to focus on its movement. He looked down at his paper, but it looked wrong. It didn’t match the glyph that was hanging from the ceiling. There were too many kappas. He looked back up at the ceiling and then felt himself lose his balance- almost falling backward and then overcompensating to slump forward. He was so tired, but the constant buzzing in his ears wouldn’t let him sleep. It must be the wasp, trying to sting him again. If only he could finish the glyph he’d be able to freeze that bug! He just needed to write the four runes κ,ρ,u, and ο. But someone had doodled on his paper. And the glyph wasn’t stacked right. The runes hardly overlapped at all. They read as kokku. Rooster giggled. That was a funny looking word. His eyes closed. Perhaps a nap would be nice, but this room felt hot. It was actually a little hard to breath and his skin tingled like he'd been in the sun too long. Κόκκυ… Such a funny glyph. Rooster giggled as he said it aloud and his body pulsed and twitched as he sat slumped forward.

Rooster felt soft touches strike his hands and face over and over and over again. An incredibly fast drumming had replaced the buzzing sound, and he felt air fanned onto his flushed skin. His eyes opened to birds! Hundreds of birds were crawling from the small piece of paper and taking flight, their wings brushing against his slumped body. They were a grayish brown color like a dove but had hawklike stripes across their belly. He’d never seen this many birds before. And in this small room the birds couldn’t maneuver so they were all crashing together and dropping to the floor. Rooster began to shake again violently, his entire body convulsing as his eyes rolled up and he finally lost consciousness. The paper started smoking and then dissolved into a fine ash. But there were already more than a thousand birds in the small room now and they covered every surface, including the tiny body of a small gnomish boy.

***

“Dummy… You… Dummy!” the small voice reached him. A warm tingling sensation infused his body, as the little gnome opened his eyes. Meg’s face was right above him. She had tears on her red cheeks and she was breathing fast.

“Meg, are you OK?” Rooster asked.

“I… can’t… fix… dead…” Her words came out one at a time. “Dummy!” she shouted. The little girl’s face moved away, and Tomas was now there with a twin’s face on each side, looking over his shoulder. Tomas looked worried. The twins were smiling.

“Can you sit up, Rooster?” Tomas asked.

“My hands hurt.” Rooster answered. His small hand now appeared in view. All of his fingertips looked bruised.

“You are going to be OK.” Tomas came back into view. “Let me help you.”

“You almost died!” One of the twins said, or perhaps both of them said it at the same time. It was hard to tell. They were still smiling.

Rooster felt hands start to pull him into a sitting position, and the light dimmed.

“You dumb dummy!” A last shout made it through as Rooster’s mind fell back into the darkness.

***

The tiny gnome awakened once more the smell of meat cooking. He was wrapped in a blanket and was laying beneath the wagon. A campfire was nearby, ringed by a series of stones each roughly the size of a man’s head. Metal spikes were in the ground, extending upward over the flames, with small bird carcasses speared onto the ends. The smell was incredible!

He sat up, the dizziness had gone. Now, he just felt very, very hungry! He looked down at his hands. His fingertips still tingled, but they were the right color again. He looked around at all of his companions and noticed several soldiers were also sitting with the group. Everyone was looking at him except for Meg. She was looking down at the ground.

“How you feeling, Birdman?” That was Renn. He was shirtless and his right shoulder was tattooed. He was smiling. Next to him, Lenn’s arms were flapping up and down, a goofy grin also plastered on his face.

“Birdman?” Rooster remembered an image of hundreds of birds all erupting around him in flight. Was that from a dream? But how would Renn know about his dream?

“Yes.” Tomas spoke. “I don’t know how you did it, but that was very smart.” Rooster looked at him, not yet understanding but the memory was clarifying in his head. “When you got stuck in the cold room. Conjuring those birds to stay warm saved your life.”

Rooster started to giggle, but the laugh choked in his throat as he saw Meg look up at him finally. Her eyes were still furious! There were wet lines on her cheeks where she had been crying silently.

“I’m sorry, Meg.” Rooster said, seeing only her. “It was an accident.”

“I can’t fix dead.” She whispered, her lower lip quivering.

“Yet…” Rooster said to her, his eyebrows lifted as he tried smiling at her.

“Yet.” Meg agreed. She rose up and walked around the fire to sit next to him. The tiny gnome put a hand against her back and tried to comfort the young girl who was twice his size. 

“Sorry, I called you a dummy.” She whispered- leaning over him. 

The twins also walked over, one sitting on either side. Lenn stuck a spike with a cooked bird in front of Rooster. Renn waved his arms in a magical flourish and dropped a large handful of feathers onto the little gnome’s head, winning laughs from almost everyone gathered around the fire. Tomas just watched Rooster intently- always so serious. Meg reached out, pulling meat from the bird and eating it. 

Rooster just sat smiling. He remembered everything now. He remembered what he believed was the glyph for cold. He also remembered the funny little glyph that had made the birds. He was confident that he’d just tripled his spells! Risk sometimes did in fact give out great rewards.

“Ouch!”. His self-satisfied preening ended as Meg pinched his leg hard! It just wasn’t right having someone listen to your thoughts. This time, however, Rooster smiled up at her- wrinkling his nose and scrunching his eyes to try and make her laugh. He knew that she really couldn’t help listening. And he realized that he really didn’t want her to stop. She knew him better than anyone. She cared for him and she accepted him for who he was.

She was his family…