The Pass by Zion Kistler (books to read romance TXT) 📖

what he had been looking for, in fact it turned out to be a map of the whole world, so in general it was not very detailed, thought he did not really need that, seeing as he was looking for a general outline, not instructions for a machine!
After he ‘borrowed’ it, he went back to his original place, and found that it had been overrun with ants, which seemed to have a tendency of not going away. So he stood and thought for a moment, and then deciding on building a fire, he went over to a good spot, grabbed some wood, and lit it with a flint kit. After that he pulled over a stump and sat plop down on it, then yelped when he realized that he had gotten too close to the fire when suddenly there came a gust of wind that blew it frighteningly close to his pants. After making a few ‘adjustments’ he sat down again and began looking at the map, and presently after a bit of wandering and curiosity he stumbled upon The Jaragon, and he saw that there was an indication of ‘ground rise’ on the mid-land, so he guessed that they were about there, since the weather was getting colder and they were steadily climbing to higher ground and mountains. Huh, so I was right, he thought, and turned to different places of it, examining them, which rid him of boredom.

After a particularly miserable and cold sleep, with his nose running, and drool coming from his mouth, he decided, after a few moments, to get out of the tent and do something, though he doubted he would find anything to do. It was worth the effort, though, so he undid the tent flap and, stumbling, crawled out. After regaining his balance he stood up and stretched and noted that some of his bones cracked and snapped, and his knuckles popped, and it did not feel good as usual since the weather was so cold and it made his joints stiff.
Then he slowly made his way around the area, until he noticed that there was smoke coming from a certain area near the southern end. He was very unimpressed that he had not noticed this before, since it was so evident, and anyway he deiced not to reprimand himself.
Shortly he arrived there, and he saw that Mildo was somewhere near the middle, with about the whole camp round him. However, he was not even talking, so Treaf quickly decided that it was not hi popularity that called people there, but rather the warmth of the fire. Among all of them there he noticed Malock, and he quickly pretended that he had not looked and sat down on a log that had been pulled up next to the large fire. Immediately he grew warmer, especially his cheeks and shins. In fact they grew so hot after a while that he had to scoot back a bit. Then after he had gotten cold he moved back.
§
They all spent the rest of the day like this, and there were various conversations that popped up here and there. However they all seemed to end quickly, and then another would pop up; that would end; more would come along, and then the cycle would continue.
When it grew to the point where it began getting dark some of them left, probably about three or four, and they walked off towards a few tents. In moments there came to ear some clanging and banging, rustling, and a few other inaudible sounds, and then they all came to the fire again, carrying onions, cheese, meat, water—many other things, bowls, and pots, plus one very large one which they began filling with various things until it was about full. Then they found two sturdy sticks shaped like slingshots, and one straight one, and they stuck the other two into the ground, then put the other one across, with the pot hanging from it. Quickly the liquid began to boil, and soon they were all eating it, which tasted very good, and surprisingly was not similar to that day’s lunch.


After the very good meal some of them stayed up and did various things, Treaf included, while others did nothing in particular, an still some of them went to bed. Treaf, however, had slept earlier that day, so he was not particularly tired, and neither was Mildo. Malock was not either, which thoroughly annoyed Treaf, for he had been hoping that the wee warrior would become tired and plop over, than have to be carried away by some people on a stretcher.
After a short while Treaf was really feeling groggy,(but not because of lack of sleep,) and soon he actually became very bored, so he went away from the fire in search of something interesting to do.
After wondering around a bit in his thoughts he decided, I guess I’ll go read some more in that book…he went over to his personal pack and there he began the difficult task of digging through some of his stuff. There was not much that he owned, or rather that he had brought from Gandria, but since it was stuffed into such a relatively small package he had difficulty finding anything, and all his belongings and food seemed to break and get dented constantly, from all the bumping…ah, here we go, he blurted in his head once he had found it. And with that he returned to the camp fire, where it was still light.
As he began reading it seemed like everything that was passing through his head was not sticking and would not stick whatsoever, so he was forced to reread several paragraphs. Once he was done with a page and a half, however, he rested his eyes by looking into the fire and all around himself and others, and after a moment of this he realized that Malock and Mildo were gone. For a moment he felt iron-stuck to the ground, but after a second of this passed he sighed and looked down at his boots. Damn. He felt a bit useless and depressed. Soon, however, after reading a bit more, he deiced that there was no point in this, now he felt determined, and after that burst of thought there came the realization that they would not be doing anything but being attacked and traveling through the woods for the next few days. I also need to read the Spell Book. If what the Elder said about Necromancers was correct, than it seems we are not in much danger. But if that is the case, there must have been some kind of exception, damn it. If he knew a blasted bit about magic than things would become easier, and that, he reminded himself, was why he was going to read, for it seemed like he was not particularly gifted with talking to people about serious matters like this. Next time I have to fight, I’m so gonna beat the living crap out of everb’dy I see.


Chapter Eight
Spell Book
“Okay, time ta do it,” Treaf said and sighed. With no obligations for that day, and no real orders not to do so, he started walking in the direction in which he supposed the Elder’s house was. Or his tent, rather, Treaf had to remind himself.
It actually turned out that he had headed completely right with no flaw, and so in only a few moments he had arrived, and, realizing that he could not nock, he did what eh preferred better anyway, and called out for the Elder in a kind of yell. Several others heard who were up and about; some were cooking breakfast,
(which Treaf was going to eat a bit later,) and others were sleeping, besides doing other things that were irrelevant.
Treaf noted a rustle in the tent cloth, and then with a certain noise the Elder came out and stared Treaf in the eye.
“Sorry, it’s just—”
“Yes, I know. You have something to ask me which will probably result in a very interesting conversation.” Yeah, I guess. Treaf swallowed some snot which had accumulated in his throat and said, “Can I borrow the Spell Book for a week?” The Elder looked at Treaf with a wary eye and said in return, “Can you borrow the Spell Book? Whatever for? I thought that you could not read it.”
“Yeah, well I bet I can now, damn it,” he said, and then returned a ‘please’ so that the Elder would not be offended.
After that it was like stirring pudding, the Elder asked a few questions like what he was planning to use it for, and Treaf simply replied that he wanted to learn more about magic. That was of course the truth, and Treaf said it earnestly so that it sounded reasonable.
After he had received it he happily went about in the camp, until he decided with realization that he should just go back to the camp fire where it was warm. And they were serving breakfast there, so he could read and eat at the same time without, (hopefully!) spilling any of it on the important book.
Once he arrived he looked around and saw that about everyone was there except for the very tired ones who were deciding to skip breakfast and sleep in. Treaf could not even imagine doing this, but he decided not to think about how miserable it would be and ate some of the hot, fried eggs with butter and toast, besides the jam and apples that came with it. The drink turned out to be a very, very good warm ale, which Treaf gulped down in one swig and then asked for more.
After he stuffed himself he sat back for a moment, and then with a huff! and reasonably small effort he grabbed the large book which he had placed beside him, and he opened up to the front page.
In blank curiosity and puzzlement he stared down at the paper, an then at the first word, and in an instant he realized that it was not in fact ‘the,’ but something different, and after a moment he saw that it was the word ‘to.’ Huh. That’ll work