The Rock of Ivanore Read Online Free

continued walking together, and Marcus found he was glad for the company. “Have you seen any of the others?” he asked after a while.
    â€œNot since we left home,” replied Clovis. “But before we divided up, I heard Jerrid say he’s going to try to cut through the forest.”
    Marcus had heard stories of the Black Forest and the terrifying creatures that lived among the entangled trunksand limbs. Anyone who was presumptuous enough to think he could get through it and live was either naïve or arrogant—and Jerrid Zwelger was both.
    â€œOf course he’d try a shortcut,” said Marcus. “He wants the Rock of Ivanore for himself.”
    â€œDo you really think so?”
    â€œHe’s been boasting for weeks about how he’s going to finish the quest before the rest of us—not content to share the glory, I suppose.”
    â€œWell, I for one hope we find the Rock of Ivanore quickly,” said Clovis. “I’ve never been away from home before.”
    â€œBut how can any of us find it if we don’t even know what it is?” Marcus felt annoyed that Zyll had not at least given him a clue as to the rock’s location.
    â€œI think it’s something magical,” Clovis suggested.
    â€œWhat makes you say that?”
    â€œI overheard my parents talking with the Archers about it once, though I only heard snippets. Supposed to be powerful enough to build and destroy entire kingdoms.”
    Marcus laughed. “Sounds like a fable to me.”
    â€œMaybe, but . . . oh no!” Clovis stopped abruptly and pinched his nose.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Marcus dropped his satchel to the ground and hurried to Clovis’s side. A thin, red line trickled down Clovis’s upper lip.
    â€œIt’s nothing,” he whined in a muffled, nasal voice. “Just a bloody nose. I get them sometimes. Quite often, actually. I’m fine. Really.”
    â€œAre you sure?” Marcus glanced up through the trees. Daylight would be fading soon, and they had not traveled half the distance he had hoped to.
    â€œI’ll be fine in a few minutes,” said Clovis, “half an hour at most.”
    Marcus sat down on a boulder jutting out from the soft earth and wished he had brought one of Zyll’s books along for the journey. “It’ll be dusk by then,” he said. “We might as well camp here.”
    â€œI don’t mind going on,” said Clovis. “We could reach Vrystal Canyon in two or three hours.”
    â€œThe sun’s going down,” replied Marcus. He was beginning to regret letting Clovis come along. Clovis released his nose, but the blood still flowed freely. He pinched it again.
    â€œNearly clotted,” he said apologetically. “In five minutes, I’ll be ready to go—”
    â€œI told you, we’re making camp!” snapped Marcus. The moment he did so, he regretted the outburst. He looked away from the stunned expression on Clovis’s face, afraid his own shame was apparent.
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper. It’s just that—” He felt his cheeks grow warm. “I don’t like the dark.”
    He was certain that Clovis would burst into laughter. Marcus, nearly a man and afraid of the dark. But there was no laughter.
    â€œOh,” said Clovis, as though the news were as trivial as a fruit fly. “We’ll need wood for the fire then. Shall I go?”
    Marcus smiled at his companion, whose nostrils were still clamped in the vise-like grip of his fingers. “I’ll go,” he said and set off to gather wood in the forest.
    When he returned, he found Clovis devouring a plump slice of roasted quail, his nosebleed all but forgotten. “Mother packed it for me,” Clovis said through greasy lips. Marcus eyed the meat hungrily and reached into his satchel. Just as he had feared, his bread had turned to