The Long Journey Home (The Legend of Vanx Malic Book 8) Read Online Free Page A

for them to take up and over the ridge to where the wizard’s map showed its “X.”
    “If you camp on the hilltop there,” Master Ruuk said, “we will be able to see your fire.”
    “So will everything on that island,” Zeezle said. “This is bigger than Dragon Isle. This place could sustain all sorts of dangerous predators.”
    “Our ‘X’ is just over the ridge there, near that old dead tree.” Vanx pointed to a place where there was a dead, grey, tangle-limbed oak amid an area of green pines and firs. Perched on one of its limbs was a yellow-beaked buzzard, and when Ruuk nodded that he saw, the bird squawked at them and lifted away, only to dive down below the ridgeline, beyond their field of view. “You’ll be able to sense the heat rising with the fire smokefrom here, but we will camp on the other side of the ridge in a shelter even if we have to build it.”
    Vanx looked over at Ronzon. “Be sure there is an ax and a saw on that rower.”
    By midday, Vanx, Poops, and Castavonti were being pulled swiftly toward the island by Zeezle and Chelda’s smooth, powerful oar strokes. When they landed, Chelda distributed the packs evenly. Then, she, Vanx, and Zeezle hauled the longboat up the shore until it was fully above the high tide line. There, she tied it off to a tree, just for good measure.
    Vanx drew his sword but let Zeezle lead. Zeezle had a machete, and though he really didn’t need to, he hacked and trimmed a path of signs, that any of them could follow, as they went.
    It was thickly wooded, but the trees were of a size to give plenty of space to walk under them. Chelda had to duck a time or two, and there were thorny shrubs that had to be cut away in a few places, but the uphill journey was less of a climb and more of a hard walk. Only Poops had an easy time of it. The dog was elated to be around so many new smells, and he stopped and peed on everything from tree trunks, to rocks, to deadfall.
    “Gah, he’s full of piss,” Chelda laughed.
    “Piss and vinegar,” Zeezle replied.
    “Shhh,” Castavonti hissed. “Did you hear that?”
    “‘Twas just a bird or a coon, man,” Chelda scoffed.
    “Nah.” Castavonti shook his head. “It was bigger.”
    They stood there a while, all looking around, seeing nothing outside of what one would expect to find under a rich forest canopy.
    Vanx had submerged himself into Poops’s perception now and couldn’t smell any danger or threat in the air. “I think we can continue,” he said. “Everyone keep your eyes open, and be on the ready. Who knows what lives around here?”
    “‘Twas a deer or a big bird, Vanxy.” Chelda shook her head.
    The frozen forests were her element, and Vanx knew she was no fool. She was acting cocky, though. She’d smashed the Paragon’s head flat with that dwarven hammer she was carrying, so he supposed she had a reason to be.
    “I hope you’re right.” He grinned at her, but gave Castavonti a look that showed he didn’t doubt the man had heard something.
    Then a noise carried across the forest.
    “Cuck! Cuck! Cuck!” came the sound, deep and guttural and very loud.
    “That was no deer,” Chelda admitted quickly. “That is big.”
    Castavonti started to say, “I told you so,” or something to that effect, but Vanx pushed his palm over the man’s mouth before he could speak.
    They stood there frozen in their tracks. Vanx was fighting Poops’s urge to bark at whatever it was, while trying to get a scent of it, so he could judge its proximity.
    Whatever it was, it was downwind, and it stayed away. After a while, Zeezle just started them back into motion. He still hacked a limb here and a branch there, but no one spoke. Poops was uncannily silent as he sniffed everything he came across.
    When they topped the ridge, it was late in the day. The scene below them was quite breathtaking, and Vanx took a few moments to gather it in.
    There was a bowl-shaped valley down there, with a lake the size of a city collected in