November 7

Word Count:

"I'm just returning it to the rightful owner."

"As am I." He offered her the last slice of bacon. When she refused, he popped it into his mouth heartily and licked his fingers. "I never take more than I need, or take from those who can't afford to give."

"They don't exactly give it to you, do they?"

"They should. After all, aren't we all here together on this world? Shouldn't we help each other out?"

Mitty didn't know why she was arguing with him. He'd obviously long ago rationalized his behavior as perfectly acceptable. She watched him pack up the breakfast wares. He wasn't a very tall man, and he was slight in build. He still had a very boyish frame. Perhaps it was his hair that made him seem so young. It was rather shaggy, and the color was somewhere between trail dust and dirt. His movements were quick and graceful, and she had no doubt he could be charming when the occasion called for it, and brisk when he chose to be. The thief didn't stay long in any position. He was currently kicking dust onto the coals of the fire.

"I don't even know your name," she said suddenly. He paused mid kick and stared at her.

"And why should you want to know that?" he questioned.

"So I should know what to call you, I suppose. You do have a name?"

"I have two of them, in fact."

"Only two?"

"Now you're just being smart." He continued extinguishing the fire. Mitty waited patiently for her answer. He finished his task and looked down at her. He sighed.

"Malek. My name is Malek." He held out his hand to help her up. She accepted it and was boosted off the ground by her companion.

"Malek. I'm Mitty. Mitty and Malek… do you think they go well together?"

"No. Malek is a name that goes well by itself. It doesn't need any attachments."

Malek pulled her over to the horse and hoisted her on top. He mounted and reached around her to grab the reins. The heat of him felt comforting in the chill morning.

"Well then, Malek that does fine by himself… how long do you think it will take us to get back to town?" Mitty asked as he kneed the horse into moving.

"To town?" Malek sounded surprised. "We're not going back to town. That would be like inviting ourselves into the jail." He continued on.

"But I have to get home."

"Look, sweetheart. That old man saw you. He called you by name. By now the noble is staking out the town, just waiting for you and that gray petticoat of yours to come back. He'll probably demand your neck as well. They get a little upset when someone just saunters in and takes their prizes."

"My brother and father are expecting me. I can't simply just not go home. I don't have anywhere else to go."

"I know of a little tavern off the wayside that might need a little help in the kitchens. I could probably get you a job there, or you could sell your petticoat."

"My father would kill me if I sold it." He was probably in an uncontrollable rage right now. She couldn't bare to think of returning without it.

"You don't have much of a choice."

"Yes, I do. Stop. Let me off this horse. It's probably stolen too."

"Actually, it's mine. I bought it. Fairly." Malek stated proudly. "I backtracked and picked him up. Let the other one loose, just in case we were seen."

"Good, because I borrowed him."

"Borrowed?"

"Yes, borrowed. Now let me down." Mitty pushed away from him, but his arm let go of the reins and snuck around her middle.

"Don't be stubborn." Malek pulled her tightly to him. Mitty drew back her arm and elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ow!" He let go of her and she slid off the horse and dropped to the ground. She fell onto her knees, bracing herself with her rope burned palms. She rolled over onto to her rear.

"Fine. Town's that way." He pointed in a direction and the horse danced a few paces away from her. "Go ahead and get yourself hanged. It's no problem of mine." The horse again danced at the angry tone in his voice. Malek stared down at her. A slight moment of pity crossed his face, and he slipped the strap of one of his pouches over his head. He tossed on the ground next to her.

"That'll keep you from starving," he said. "Just watch out for thieves. They're not all as generous as I am." Malek pulled the horse's head around and kneed him into a gallop. Mitty stared at him until he disappeared.

Right. So she was alone. Who needed a thief anyway? Malek was surely wrong. Her father may not speak to her for a year, but he would explain things to Sir Dunlap. Her life, and everything in it would be back to normal. This time tomorrow, she'd be gathering up her father's laundry to wash. After washing, she'd take his lunch of brown bread and cheese to the shop, and go home to scrub the floor. Back to normal. The men of Toumat would ignore her, and she'd die an old maid.

That was a pleasant thought. Maybe Malek was right, but not for the reasons he thought. Going back home wouldn't be the best solution. Mitty stared out into the trees. She wasn't even sure which way Malek had pointed. Home was nowhere. Only fog seemed to exist here… fog and trees.

There would be no use crying about it, Mitty thought. It was her own stupidity that had gotten off the horse. Malek had even warned her… but he was gone, and she'd probably never see him again.

Despite her resolution, the tears began to overrun her eyes. She lost her breath and began to take large gasping sighs. She gave up the battle and let her cry come in massive force. Her shoulders heaved, her stomach lurched, and her throat closed up.

It wasn't until a few minutes later, when she'd begun the hiccup phase of her cry that she heard the weak cry of something else. Whatever it was, the sound it made was as pitiful as her own, if not quite as loud. Mitty suddenly felt a heap of embarrassment. She couldn't ever remember crying like that before. No, that wasn't right. She'd cried when her mother had died, but she'd still been a child. Mitty remembered wanting so much for her father to come and comfort her, but her cries wore her out, and he never came to comfort her. She knew he had been grieving too, but she remembered that time as being when she lost both her parents.

Mitty stood up and began to search for the other crier. As she neared a tree with low hanging branches, she noticed a slight indentation where one of the limbs met the tree. She closed in on the sound, and realized it was coming from the hole.

"Hello?" She said as she peered at the tree. The crying got louder. She reached her hand slowly into the hole until she hit something warm and fuzzy. The moment she touched it, the crying stopped and turned into purring. It was a kitten.

"Come here, little one," she said as she lifted it out of the hole. How the cat had gotten there was a mystery. How it was green was even more intriguing.

"Goodness," she said as she pulled him close to her. He snuggled into her heat, as Mitty ran her hand down his back. He was quite green, from his whiskers to his tail. If he'd been any farther up in the tree, she wouldn't have seen him. He would have blended right into the leaves.

"You must be a tree cat," she said as she scratched his ears. He purred louder. She held him up to her face and rubbed his silky soft fur. He reached out with his tiny pink tongue and licked a leftover tear from her face.

"You're definitely going to need a name. How about Andee? No. I don't think that's you." He looked at her quizzingly.

"Melee?" He sneezed.

"Pylon?" He mewed once.

"Pylon it is." Mitty pulled him tight against her chest, and picked up Malek's pouch.

"Which direction shall we go?" Pylon looked up at her silently. "Right. It doesn't really matter, does it? As long as we go?" Mitty closed her eyes and twirled about with her arm extended. When she stopped, her hand pointed at trees. It was quite a surprise, considering they were surrounded by them.

"This way." She began walking in the direction she'd pointed.

"I think we shall get along quite well together, Pylon."

Pylon's stomach grumbled.

"Well, I suppose that means you didn't have breakfast. You're in luck. Let's see what we've got."

She reached inside Malek's pouch and grabbed onto an orange. "We've got some fruit and we have…" Mitty paused in the middle of her next thought. She wasn't holding an orange after all. It was a plain white ball… and it was beginning to glow.

  "Do you think the troll man will be back?" Lynah asked Trevelyn as they rolled up the blankets inside the tent. Neither one had slept well that night, even if their secretive guardian had been watching. "Do you think he'll want breakfast?"

"Who? The troll man?" Trevvie asked shocked.

"No, not the troll man, the ranger. I wish I had a mirror. How does my hair look?" Lynah knew she probably looked a fright. Sleeping on the ground had probably put circles under her eyes."

"Since when do you care about how you look for a boy?" Trevvie was catching on.

"He's not a boy, and he's definitely not like any of the men I've met before. I mean he didn't even try to kiss me." Trevelyn snorted and opened up the tent flap. Lynah grabbed her and pulled her back in. "Really Trevvie."

"Really what? You think he's going to act the same when he finds out who you are? All men are the same."

Lynah sighed. Every man that she met was the same. They all fell in love with her money or her title. The ranger would probably swear to give up his bow and boots to have a chance to live in the castle. There was only way to know for sure.

"Trevvie, I don't want you to tell him who I am. Don't tell him I'm a princess."

"But you are a princess, Lynah."

"For once I want to know what it's like to feel normal. He doesn't know who I am. Just until we get home." When Trevvie sighed resignedly, Lynah smiled and opened the tent flap.

"How's my hair," she asked just before she stepped out.

"Fine. It's just fine." The two of them left the tent and stood in the middle of camp. They scanned the foggy trees for a sign of the ranger.

"Hello," Lynah called. No one answered. "He left."

"Well, you didn't expect him to stick around forever."

"It would have been nice if he'd said goodbye!" Lynah yelled. It echoed through the trees. Her horse jumped and pulled at his reins.

"Come one. Let's get home," Trevelyn said.

They were underway within the half hour, and had hit a stream the next hour. They decided to follow it out of the forest, reasoning that it was probably the beginnings of Tiber Creek, a little creek that emptied itself into a lake not far from the castle.

After following for another hour, Lynah began to have serious doubts. The stream was getting larger, and the water moving faster than the Tiber. She didn't want to mention the fact to Trevelyn who was already mad enough at her now.

It wasn't until they reached the waterfall, and the steep decline, that Lynah realized this was the place Toomas had told her about. It appeared from the forest as if someone had been pointing them in the right direction, pulling on their elbows their whole way. Lynah wasn't about to tell Trevy that they had really stumbled upon it by accident.

"Isn't wonderful Trevy? Right where I said it would be."

"Where's what?"

"The cave, silly." Trevy looked harder at the waterfall. It was dense, and the spring rains had swollen the stream and the pond that formed below the waterfall. The rains had also encouraged the plants to display their most vibrant greens. They surrounded the falls, slick with the mist that sprayed up from the rocks below.

"Come on." Lynah pushed her way though the undergrowth, closing in on the waterfall. Trevelyn followed her, as always.

"Wait a minute," she reasoned. "If you go any further you're going to be soaked. We'll have to stop and dry out your clothes."

"Dragon hunters don't have to worry about such things."

"Come on, Lynah, how old are you? There are such things as consequences."

"I've no need to be reminded. And if you start a fight right in the middle of my adventure… I'm going to have to truly ban you from my presence. Look at this!" Lynah grabbed Trevelyn's hand and pulled her quickly through the waterfall. For one swift moment, Trev spluttered and squeaked. Then they were through and into the cave.

"So that's what the other side of a waterfall looks like," Lynah shouted happily over the din of the water. "Who would have ever thought water could be so loud." Without waiting, she proceeded further into the cave, away from the stray sprays of water. The depths of the cave also began to get darker. Lynah touched a wall to help guide her footsteps towards. The walls were smooth, almost like black glass.