To get to the town of Westmyre one had to travel inland, away from the bounty of the sea, and towards the arid mountains that marked the border of the desert. Rodrick led his company along the final leg of the road as it snaked through the hills and ended at the lively little town.
Music could be heard as they reached the main entrance, and laughter and clapping. Upon reaching the centre of the town they realised they had stumbled upon another kind of party; it was old Mr. Tanner’s birthday celebration and the whole town was invited. “Mr. Tanner is a friend of mine,” said Rodrick. “He’s a jovial old fellow! Very wise in all the right ways, and he certainly knows how to have fun!” A vibrant firecracker exploded overhead and sprinkled glimmering silver over the town, followed by a cheer and a round of applause. “Let’s find Gretel at the inn and rest up a little, and then you’re free to go a join the fun!”
“Really?” said Sam.
“Of course! Dance and sing and what not! You’ve certainly earned it!”
The inn Gretel had chosen was as lively inside as it was out. The sound of men and women having their drink was a constant din. Gretel waited at a table in one of the darker and quieter corners of the room, with a cup of beer in her hands and a bowl of peanuts nearby. Only now did Victor see the uncanny resemblance between her and Rodrick. She looked up at them with her pretty eyes and popped a peanut in her mouth. The first thing she said was: “You’re late.”
After some subtle greetings, the group divided; Rodrick stayed with Gretel at the table, Astrid went up to the room to rest, and Sam and Victor and Hansel danced for the rest of the night.
They set out early the next morning, as per usual, once again finding the western road. The early hours were quite, and there was no wind, so that Victor found himself falling into a trance or dozing as he walked, only to be wakened by a clap on the shoulder from Hansel. At the foot of the nearest mountain Gretel pointed the party’s attention to a line of scorched goblyn heads that were propped up by wooden stakes. “The nest was located deeper underground than I suspected, but the goblyns themselves did not cause too much trouble.”
Rodrick shook his head. “You did well, but it was foolish of you to reap the nest alone; what if there were more than you could handle, or some other greater creature had taken their place? Be more cautious next time.”
The journey from this point was somewhat uneventful. Victor came to realise at one stage that they were not too far from the areas where they camped on the way to West Harbour. The thought of the fog and the dark Nokken lurking in the water gave him Goosebumps. and for the most part he kept his eyes north towards the mountains.
It took eight and a half days to reach the township of Bluewater, which was once again on the coast, at the tip of a peninsula leaning out into the channel, but again everyone’s interest was to the north. They spent two quiet nights here, resting while Rodrick gathered some extra supplies and made the final preparations for the rest of the trip. “Enjoy the beds and the food,” he said, warmly. “You won’t be seeing them for a while, for tomorrow we make for the north and into the desert!”
Victor didn’t like the sound of that, and he was sure that either home would soon become a distant longing, or that when he returned he would not even recognise it at all.
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