…How about a little update on our adventure so far? asked Master Blaise, nursing a cool drink against his chest while reclining in a deckchair, the very picture of the perfect tourist in Elvenland.
Corwin took a step towards a table on the side, and helped himself to the crystal decanter there as well. Coming back to his usual place, he sat down on the low wall that circled their terrace and said:
…We know that the Watcher lives in or around Mount Tsarang, and the Lady Vivian here, this good lady here, he smiled to Vivian, still has to organize our new journey. We haven´t decided on how to get to Mount Tsarang. We only have a few bits of information about the situation, mostly the results of the Lady Vivian´s remote viewing sessions, which isn’t a lot, you will agree. The best thing would be to pagmoo directly to the foot of Mount Tsarang, and then attempt the climb. But we will need a bit of channeling before that.
He looked at Vivian, stressing the last words.
I don´t think that we have the time to do the journey in real-time, and with a wagon, said Vivian. Now that we know what the Book contains, time is pressing. The other possibility is to summon the dragons, and fly as the birds fly: in a straight line towards Mount Tsarang.
Vivian took a sip of her own drink, a spicy-sweet bubbly Elven wine made with wild roses.
This… might be a little…uncomfortable for you, Master Blaise.
She finished her sentence rapidly, and took another sample of her drink. She was starting to feel somewhat lightheaded, a swirly pink mist flowing around in her brain.
And why is that, my dear lady?
Master Blaise had the knotted look of someone who doesn´t like what he is hearing.
Vivian smiled, a bit apologetically.
It just means that the flight with the dragons and a hard climb after that might be especially uncomfortable for someone your age, Master.
She hid her smile, chewing on her upper lip.
Are you kids trying to tell me – again – that I am too old?
Well, Corwin started, fidgeting with his glass. Actually, Master…you are old.
Don´t fight, you two, please. Vivian put up a hand on her head. She was feeling definitely spacey now.
How about asking the MerKaBa pendulum? I might as well, since my head swims in a bubble of this very nice drink!…
She got a small leather package out of her bag and fished the pendulum out of its case.
With all due respect, she told it, feeling the tiniest bit foolish for addressing an inanimate object in such a way. She knew, though, that the pendulum was more than “just” a bit of crystal, it was actually a very sophisticated kind of quantum device attuned to her deepest thoughts. It made a lot of sense to address it with respect.
With all due respect, should we fly with the dragons?
The pendulum vibrated, then started slowly to turn towards the left. No. She felt the movement reverberating in her wrist. A definite no.
Should we pagmoo over to Mount Tsarang?
The pendulum started in a straight diagonal line. Left, right. Left, right. Perhaps.
Perplexed, Vivian looked up to them.
What does that mean? Not the dragons, and perhaps the pagmoos? What other solution is there?
Molly’s wagon, Corwin mouthed the words silently.
Vivian took up the pendulum again.
Should we go with the wagon? she asked in her mind.
She remembered the vast plains at the center of Elvenland, the tall grasses swaying in the wind, and the immensity of the sky.
Then. Suddenly she knew the answer.
The pendulum started to slowly turn to the right, then definitely, in a circle. It even seemed to emit a tinkling laughter.
Vivian started to laugh too.
It is…talking to me! And it says…it says… that the journey is more important than the destination…
They looked at each other, the three trained Druids, understanding the message.
…That “thing”, said Master Blaise smiling in his beard – is right, you know. Micromovements. Micromovements is the thought of the day. One tiny step after another which, when added together, finally draw a path…The Goddess writes straight in squiggly lines…
He drained his glass in one gulp and smacked his lips.
Let´s do it, kiddos, he said in his gravelly century-old voice. Let´s do it.