Except, of course, there stood Glynda and Ffanci.
The three of them fell into a group hug.
“You’re safe then,” Tom said, stating the obvious.
“Well, we are alive, but look at it, there’s nothing here, no food, no water, nothing,” Glynda replied, “where did you appear from?”
“We followed you to the throne room, but Muenda had set a trap,” said Jon.
“The same one I fell into, but how did you find me, I left no thread.”
“Jon followed Ffanci, Dragon Master stuff.”
“Why didn’t Dragon Slayer protect you?” Jon asked.
“Because it was not an attack, I walked into a portal of some kind and ended up here.”
How long have you been here?” asked Tom.
“I was only a few minutes in front of you, so not long enough to panic. But I am pleased to see you all, even if we are trapped, I feel I have a better chance of getting back with you two,”
“You do of course mean you four,” Bevon said snootily, two small wizards and two huge dragons.”
“And how do we do that?” Tom asked.
“Simple,” Ren interjected, “find the portal and go back through to Trymyll the same way we arrived here.”
“Can you see it?” asked Tom.
“Yes, I know exactly where it is, but now is not the time to return. I suggest we explore around for some shelter for the night and then return when we are presumed lost.”
“How will you find the portal again? It’s just desert and lifeless,” Glynda asked.
“A portal is not fixed in time or space; we will pluck it from the air where it hangs and take it with us. It’s not a physical object but a woven spell in solid form if that makes sense. I will hide it in my firebox, then if the Master decides to follow us, he will have a very nasty surprise, not to mention a warm welcome.”
They all smiled at Ren’s remark, Ren grabbed the portal, they all mounted their dragons and rose high into the sky. Far into the distance they could see what looked like the ruins of a city and headed that way. As they approached, they all cloaked invisible, just in case, and landed close to the city. It looked deserted, so the boys, who were dressed in their light absorbing cloaks anyway restored visibility, Glynda did also, but her clothing was still as white as snow. She unsheathed Dragon Slayer and held it before her, grip in one hand, blade resting on the other.
The three of them approached the city.
“There are people in there,” Glynda announced, “I can feel their fear and their wounds. Tread carefully.”
Jon set up a defensive field of energy around them in case of an attack and they moved slowly into the city, or rather, what remained of it.
A guard stepped out, though it looked more like he was shoved out by others, to challenge them.
“Halt, who goes there, friend or foe? Whoever you are, stay away, we have nothing here we can share, step away or we will slay you where you stand.”
Glynda spoke, “We are friends, we want nothing from you, we are here to help, you have many injured and much sickness in the city, we can help. We are healers.”
“Healers?” he scoffed, “then why the big sword little girl? And who’s we? I only see you.”
“There are three of us, me and two teenage boy wizards as well, the sword is for my protection should you attack.”
“Show yourselves!” he shouted, “real men don’t hide behind a girl with a sword.”
Jon and Tom threw back their cloaks so the guard could focus on them.
“Now!” the guard shouted, and a volley of arrows came from several directions, bouncing and splintering against the wall of energy.
“You cannot harm us,” Glynda said calmly, “let us through so we may help your sick and wounded.”
The guard, who now was white and trembling, stepped back and allowed them through. Glynda and Tom got to work immediately while Jon stood guard against any renewed hostility. There were about twenty, maybe a few more who were wounded plus a few sick with raging fevers.
“What happened?” Jon asked the guard.
“Surely you know. The Master, that’s what happened. How could you not know, he laid waste to everything, we are just a few survivors, how do you not know?” he almost pleaded with them for answers.
“We have come from another land where we are also battling with the Master. So far, we have managed to beat him back, but we accidentally fell into a trap and found ourselves in your world.” Jon tried to explain. But he could see the guard did not understand.
“Where are your wizards?” Jon asked.
“Dead, every one of them. The Master only left us few non-magical folks alive because we weren’t a threat to him. But he still left us to die, we have little food, and the water is cursed, that’s why so many are either dead or dying.”
“Ren,” said Tom.
His magnificent Golden Dragon appeared, scaring the wits out of all who saw him.
“Can you fix the water?”
“I will do my best,” Ren replied in his deep resonating voice, “where is your water source, stream or well?” he said, addressing the guard.
“It’s a river that starts in the mountains and flows down the valleys,” the guard explained raising a trembling hand in the direction of the river, “then it flows under the city and is then drawn from wells all around.”
Ren took to the air, sniffing for clues, and flew off into the distance.
Glynda, Jonathan, and Tom continued sorting out the sick and wounded and soon they were mostly healed. About half an hour later Ren returned.
“The water was not cursed, just bad. Upstream was choked with dead and decaying animals, they were poisoning the water, they are cleared away now and the streams have been sterilised. The water is good to drink now.”
Those that could fell upon the wells, drawing up water and drinking as they had never drunk before, for some it had been days since they had tasted clean fresh water.
Ren continued to speak, “It is not as the Master described, there are living things, animals, plants, and trees. But not all is good to eat. What we need is a trygall. They can produce wholesome food from extraordinarily little, just roots, herbs, and leaves are all they need to make enough for everyone.”
“But we don’t have a trygall with us,” Jon said, almost irritated.
“But we do,” said the guard, “we have several caged up in the dungeons, we don’t trust trygalls, we don’t like them either.”
“Then it’s time you did,” said Ren, “bring them to me and I will talk to them.”
“But if we release them, they’ll shred us, they’ll tear us limb from limb.”
“No, they won’t,” Ren said with some authority, “I will have them under my control.”
Six highly agitated and chained trygalls were brought out a few minutes later. Ren looked at them, they had hate in their eyes and revenge written all over their faces.
“Untether them,” he said.
“We’d rather not, look at them, they’ll kill us all.”
Ren looked at them again, and magically, all the chains just dropped to the floor; they were free.
Ren then communed with them using only thoughts. Their faces mellowed, they were still pug ugly, but now you could see kindness and understanding in their faces. They scampered away at high speed disappearing into the surrounding countryside. Fifteen minutes later they were back, carrying big bundles of roots and vegetation, one had a small deer, and thirty minutes later, they were dolling out bowls of hot and nutritious broth to all who asked. To the surprise of everyone, it tasted good.
Soon, everyone was healed, fed, and watered and feeling in good spirits. Several hundred people had appeared from the shadows, and they all seemed calm and content, no longer seeing the visitors as a threat.
“Right,” said Jon, “we must move on, there must be more cities that need our help.”
“No,” a man who seemed to be either the leader or had assumed authority said, “we are all that remain. Those who survived in the other cities came here, to what was once the capital, seeking refuge. There are no more.”
“How did you survive?”
“We hid in caves or in deep cellars, the wizards, they all stood and fought, but he was too strong for them. How come you were able to stand against him? You’re only kids,” he said rather rudely.
“Glynda,” Tom nodded towards her, “she is the most powerful amongst us, she also has her sword which can drain away the magic from the Master, we for our part are also wizards, and despite our age,” Tom blushed, as he didn’t like to sound boastful, “we are also quite good at wizarding.”
Glynda had not stowed her sword and had laid it on the ground next to where she was tending the sick. She had almost forgotten about it when the leader suddenly made a dash for it and grabbed hold of it. He was thrown across the square and the sword instantly returned to Glynda who caught it and placed it in the scabbard on her back.
“What did you do that for?” asked Glynda of the badly shaken leader.
“If it can harm the Master, I want it, I want to avenge us for those he slaughtered.”
“It’s not that simple, it only works for the rightful owner, if you try to steal it, it will reject you and return to me, wherever I am.”
“I’m sorry, I meant no harm, but may I at least see the sword?”
Glynda unsheathed it and handed it to the man. He took it gingerly as if expecting it to throw him across the square again.it didn’t.
“How come I can hold it now?” he asked.
“Because this time, it knows you do not intend to steal it, but if you change your mind while holding it, the same will happen.”
Of course, Glynda didn’t know if this was true, but it sounded reasonable enough. She just hoped he didn’t test her theory.
He studied the blade carefully before speaking, “It has dragons carved on the blade, I see there are two headed serpents as well, do you have those where you come from? They used to be here a couple or more millennia ago, but a powerful wizard managed to banish them all to another land through a portal, they never returned, so we assumed they all perished. The wizard never returned either, so we think he must have died also.”
“That’s an interesting story because it was two millennia ago that they arrived in Trymyll, that’s where we are from, but then they were all defeated by my ancestor using this very sword, the sword’s name is Dragon Slayer, and my ancestor was….”
“Giamillus-Weorod,” the leader continued.
“How did you know that?”
“It was he who drove the two headed serpents out of our land. There were still Weorods here until recently, best and most powerful wizards we had; you would have had relatives here had you arrived a few weeks ago, but not anymore I’m afraid.”
“The name has evolved over the centuries, my name is Glynda Guilliams-Erwood, an anagram of my descendants.”
“It’s a pity Weorod’s portal is not still open, we could use that to get back and avoid the Master. He knows we will return and has probably set another trap for us should we try.”
“Wishful thinking,” said Tom, “that was over two thousand years ago, it will be long gone.”
“No, you’re wrong. The portal remained open in case he or his descendants needed to return, a few have ventured through to your world over the centuries, but none have ever returned. We assumed the two headed serpents got him and any who followed.”
“Where is it?” asked Jon, “we could use it to get back as well.”
Tom joined the conversation, “No, it’s too dangerous, if no one has ever returned back from wherever it leads, it may lead only into the darkness.”
“What is the darkness?” asked Jon with an inquisitive look on his face.
Ren intervened, “when people leave this life, the wicked go into the darkness and the good go into the light.”
“And if it still worked, Muenda would have used it,” Tom said in a slight panic.
“Who’s Muenda?” asked the leader.
“Muenda Mwita Osei is the real name of the Master,” Tom replied.
“Well, you can only use it if you know where it is, and the Master did not know.”
“Well then, where is it?” asked Jon.
“Up in the mountains at the source of the river.”
“Then let’s head there at first light,” Jon said as it was now quite dark.