“I have questions.” The creature said with a sterner tone. “If all you say is true, then how come I don’t remember meeting you or the Siouxsie or the Morell or the Robert or the Ignatius or the shadow girl? I believe I would remember a girl made of shadows.”

  “Perhaps I misspoke.” Offered Hoxley as she blew across her wooden spoon to cool the broth. “You have not met Idris or Ignatius or the shadow girl. They joined us after we came to visit. But please look at this spear.” She said holding it out for him. “You made this very spear and the prince’s shield and these wristlets and Morell’s mace and the sharp tips for the witches brooms. Their quality and make is like no other in the land! We haven’t the means to create such things. It was by your hand that we were given such great gifts. And we have used them well! Your craftsmanship has kept us alive when we were so greatly outnumbered!”

  “From what you’ve told me, it sounds as though your involvement with the witches has been your greatest setback.”

  “Oh no, the witches and their magic has been a great ally to us!”

  “Yet it was the magic of Ignatius that separated you.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” said Hoxley. “He was using a new type of magic to keep us away from danger but now we’ve become separated.”

  “And now to the matter of us,” Bohga said. “You claim these fine weapons made of…?”

  “Lyythium is what you called it.”

  “Yes, Lyythium. Lyythium you claim that I gave you.”

  “It’s true.” She said. “You said that it is the liquified remains of the deceased gels that inhabit your cave. You said When they die, they turn to a fine light blue liquid that’s the color of a spring sky. If one should pour that liquid into a form and put fire to it, a flash petrification takes place and they become lyythium.”

  “You have a very good memory.” Said the prince.

  “I have to.” She pointed a finger to the side of her head. “It helps to remember the names of all my delivery customers.”

  “All these things you say I have said and done when I know nothing of them. If this is true, then this means I have yet to do them but will do them some later day. You also say that I was seven hundred years of age when I gave you such things. By my thinking of these facts, you are five hundred years removed from the day you think it is.”

  “Five hundred years?” The guests said at the same time.

  “But how are we to undo this?” asked Hoxley

  “The same way I would imagine the problem was created. You must find Ignatius and have him use this strange magic.”

  “But we don’t know where he is.” Said the prince.

  “Then you have problem it may take the rest of your lives to resolve.”

  “The rest of our lives?” asked Prince Damron with some agitation. “We don’t have time for riddles! My uncle is using dark magic to hold my people and others captive.”

  “Your uncle hasn’t been born yet, nor his father nor his father before that or father before that or father before that or his father before that.” said Bohga calmly as he glanced up from his hot bowl. “I have been all over these lands, young man. I can tell you truthfully that the kingdom you claim to come from is still being built as we speak. It was only two summers ago that I witnessed the keep of a new castle being built in the east. The home of your birthright is being constructed as we speak. There is time enough.”

  “This is all too much to think about.” said Hoxley, her eyes looking a little glazy. “It makes my head…my head…” The faun gave a pained look before turning away from the table to vomit. She expelled everything in her stomach in three terrible wretches before passing out and falling backwards. It was only by Bohga’s sizeable arm and hand being close enough that he managed to catch her before she hit the floor.

  “Hoxley!” cried the prince, rushing to her side. The cyclops had her literally well in hand and cupped her hind quarters with a second one before carrying her from the room. Prince Damron followed him into the adjacent chamber where a bed of well-worn tree branches lay. Bohga delicately laid Hoxley upon the bed and covered her with a blanket.

  “Do you know what’s happened to her?” asked the cyclops

  “She hit her head when the magic portal cast us through. It knocked her concussed when a tree stopped her fall.”

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Hmmmmmm.” The cyclops considered. “Head bone wound. They can sometimes be fatal depending on the strike.”

  “Fatal?!” exclaimed Prince Damron. “No! you can’t mean it! Bohga please do something!”

  “Such things are not always within our power, young prince.”

  “But you must! Hoxley is my dearest friend! Please! She risked her life to save mine when we were but strangers! Please! I would give anything for you to help her!”

  “Anything you say? What have you to offer me if I were to have such medicine?”

  “Anything you ask! I freely give it!” said Prince Damron.

  “Everything you own, I already have. What of your crown?”

  “What of it?” asked the boy.

  “I don’t have a crown of my own. Perhaps if I had your crown atop my head I could be swayed. Although, a crown is not just decorative. To be the holder of a crown is to be ruler of all the crown represents. To hand me your crown would be to hand me your kingdom and all that fall within it.”

  “You want me to trade my kingdom for medicine?”

  “Is the life of your friend not worth it?”

  “She is but what you ask is unreasonable!”

  “Life is unreasonable, young king. Give me your crown and I will do what I can to save sweet Hoxley. If she means that much to you.” The prince glared at the creature. But seeing Hoxley laid there and looking pitiful, there were no other choices left to make. He returned to the main room, opened his pack and fished out his crown. It was dirty from being hefted around but he used the tail of his shirt to wipe it clean before offering it up to the cyclops. The large beast took it from him and placed it high on a shelf far out of reach of anyone but himself. “I will take this as partial payment.”

  “Partial payment?” said the prince with agitation. “What else can you have?”

  “Your servitude, young man.”

  “Servitude?” stomped Prince Damron. “I am servant to no one! I am Prince Damron and I serve no one else!”

  “You are quite mistaken, young Damron.” Said the cyclops. “You have already traded your crown for medicine for sweet Hoxley. If you want my help and advice you will offer yourself freely into my service.”

  “This is outrageous!” Prince Damron screeched. “You have altered the deal we made! i thought we were friends!”

  “I have never met you before I my life and the deal is not yet done, young Damron. Once a deal has begun to be bartered with a cyclops the deal may change time and again until it is complete. Do we have a deal or shall I continue to add provisions?”

  “No.” the prince said with reddened cheeks as he looked at the floor in anger. “I will do as you ask.”

  “That is better.” Bohga nodded in satisfaction. “Now then. For you to be in my service I need you to be full of strength. Return to the other room and eat your fill. Do not gorge yourself as there are many chores to be done while I tend to our sickly faun.” Prince Damron was about to leave but stopped to pat Hoxley between the horns before departing. He begrudgingly sat at the table to finish his meal before the cyclops returned a short time later to join him. Neither one looked up from their bowl.

  Deep in the muck of Steelbriar, Atticus, Morell and Loxo continued to wander without aim or direction. With their food supply running low and constantly having to hide from the creatures made of razorbarb relentlessly stalking them, the situation began to look grim.

  “How could we have been travelling in one direction for so long and not found the edge yet?” asked Loxo. “And when is nightfall?”

  “Perhaps it’s like Everlight Desert.” Said Morell, still riding upon Atticus’ back. “There is no night or day for some strange reason.”

  “You’ve gotten far heavier than before.” Huffed Atticus. “New vitality or not.”

  “My apologies.” Said the boy who was in fact a full head larger than before. “Whatever it was about the portal that has made you much younger seems to have made me a little older.”

  “It’s alright, I suppose.” Said Atticus. “If you start walking again and reinjure your leg, I’ll have to carry you longer. We’ll carry on as we are. But it’s been the longest time since we’ve stopped and I need a rest.” Once the trio was on a dry patch again, Morell was set down. The others plopped down next to him, each relieved to be free of their burdens.