Excerpt: The Fifth Day

The mist from the portal was still swirling around in Gerard's head as he and Michael trod through the forest, following the faint orbs of light that guided many a traveller through the woods. The canopy of trees was thick enough to nearly block out the sky, and all attempts to thin the woodlands had failed. The orbs were the only thing that kept people from being hopelessly, irrevocably lost, and those who veered from the orbs' path were rarely seen again, the few survivors little more than shells themselves. Because of this, Michael had a nearly vice-like grip on Gerard's hand, ensuring the confused fellow didn't stray.

As they approached the edge of the woods, the fog finally lifted from Gerard's mind, and he began to soak in the sight of his homeland. Any lingering doubts he had promptly vanished as he watched the villagers wander around, doing even the most basic of chores with a touch of magic. He could sense its strength in the very ground, a deep hum that belied its power. He felt like he could take down a tank with this newfound energy.

"Fog's awful, innit?" asked Michael, who had loosened his death-grip on Gerard's hand.

"Yeah," said Gerard, watching a hawk circle above them. He could scarely believe his eyes, and his mind seemed to be on sensory overload.

"Well, it's only an hour's walk or so to the castle, but we should probably grab some food." Michael began to barter with a fruit stand vendor in a language Gerard didn't understand, which brought him back to reality.

"I don't speak your language," Gerard said, in the tone of a man who foresees doom.

"What? Oh, damn." Michael slapped his forehead, annoyed at his own forgetfulness. He held up a hand to the fruit vendor and presumably told him to wait a minute. Taking a deep breath, he gathered energy into his fingertips, making them glow a faint blue. Tentatively, he touched Gerard's temples, who felt a shock of cold logic running through his mind. It made him shiver.

"Can you understand me now?" asked Michael. Gerard knew what he heard wasn't English, but he understood it just as perfectly.

"Wow." His mouth felt odd shaping the word. Michael smiled at his good work.

"That spell will only last you a few hours, but that should get you through the Queen's message. After that, you'll just have to learn the language." At that point, the fruit vendor coughed, reminding Michael of his presence. Michael flushed with embarrassment, realizing how little space had been between himself and Gerard, and went back to bartering with the vendor.