A Mischievous Tale of Magical Mayhem

7 | The Deadwood Pirates

With their gear stowed in the cart and everyone accounted for, the group sat around the map in the wagon.

Tallon couldn't figure his way out of a burlap sack, and without knowing the area, Maisie struggled as well. In the end, they had no choice but to rely on Ben's book-knowledge, which was at least several decades out of date, for lack of a better solution. After studying the parchment and noting their surroundings, Ben took the reins and drove.

Sprout hid beneath his cap while Scamp perched on the bench, refusing to enter the cart with a wolf occupying the cargo bed.

Tallon and Maisie sat together in silence, neither in a mood to converse.

A sliver of light briefly shone through the clouds, bathing a patch of floor through the open flap. Otherwise, the journey was wet, cold, and miserable.

Time moved at a snail's pace as Tallon watched for threats from behind, but no danger presented itself. Maisie prepared a meal of dried jerky and stale bread, passing it to the men before taking her own share.

It wasn't until Ben called the horse to a stop and the cart jolted that Tallon approached the driver's seat and poked his head through the flap. "What's going on?"

Ben nodded to something ahead.

"Up there, by that shadowy spot. You can barely see it against the cliffs, but it's a watchtower. Someone's up there. I can't tell more. What do we do?"

Squinting, Tallon discerned a pair of elongated ears protruding from holes in a hood. When they locked eyes, the elf motioned with his head for the party to approach. He raised his empty hands for Tallon to see.

Facing Ben, Tallon said, "They're elves. I'm not sure what they want, but they're signaling us to move forward."

"Are they hostile?" Ben asked.

The thought had crossed Tallon's mind as well, but he couldn't determine the stranger's intentions from this distance. "I don't know, but our choices are limited. Either we take our chances and proceed, or double back to the northern road."

As a maid, Maisie had learned to observe everything, down to the last thread on a piece of fabric. As she peeked through the canvas, she sought the tower and noted the watcher's body language.

He kept his hands in plain view and stood at ease—not at all agitated or hostile. His face was hidden in the shadow of his hood, but his eyes flashed. She couldn't decide if his eyes reflected the feeble sunlight or if they glowed with magic. Unlike Tallon's, this man's irises sparkled bright like fresh honey.

"I think we should see what they want," she whispered. "They could have killed or ambushed us by now if they wished."

"That doesn't mean they can't harm us later," Ben muttered doubtfully.

Tallon found Ben's hand and squeezed it. "Maisie is right; they seem friendly enough."

And not all elves are the enemy. Tallon didn't voice the thought, and he ensured his mental barriers were solid enough that he didn't transfer it via the link.

Ben nodded and squeezed Tallon's hand in return before pulling away.

As the wagon rolled forward, an open wooden gate built into a palisade appeared, revealing several elves in leather armor over worn fabric adorned with beaded jewelry. No one spoke or raised a weapon as Starlight's hooves splashed through puddles and the wagon wheels sloshed over the muddy path.

A low growl coming from the wagon made Ben turn and shush Fann. Stand down. They aren't attacking.

Fann's ears flattened as he dipped his head in submission. He didn't emit fear, but Ben sensed the wolf establishing his territory over Ben as his person.