Wendel sipped from his cup, glancing nervously between Clara and Dr. Mendes. The doctor was engaged in conversation with someone from the University, “It seems that the investigation in Kentvale is another false alarm. The trees are infested with a plague of beetles carrying a fungal disease. No magic involved.” She paused, listening to a voice only she could hear, and Wendel finished his drink.

“I do not believe so, the amount of resources required to save the trees would hardly justify the return.” Clara smiled at Dr. Mendes’ words, and Wendel went to take another drink. He stared at the dregs in the bottom of the empty porcelain cup, anxiously turning it this way and that.

Dr. Mendes returned Clara’s smile, Wendel’s tongue felt cemented to his mouth, he was turning the cup in small circles on the saucer holding it by its rim. “We shall be moving on immediately, you can send the usual letter to the supplicant if you don’t think I should take the time to track him down and meet with him. What’s the next destination?”

“So I shall.” She placed both her hands on the table and then said to Clara, “It seems that I shall be leaving for the edge of the great desert. It does not seem that I have time to head into town before I depart.”

The ancient woman’s creased face broke into a wide grin like the sun rising. She stood up and began rummaging through her cupboards, pulling boxes and jars of food from the shelves and laying them on the table like an offering on an altar. Dried fruits, pickled vegetables, hard travel bread, and salted jerky were produced with a flourish. The pile grew and grew.

Wendel stared at the growing pile of food and then said, “This is very kind of you, but it sure seems like a lot more than we need.”

Dr. Mendes rose from her chair and gathered up all the cups and saucers neatly stacking them atop one another on her left hand and wrist. “Wendel, do not insult my friend’s generosity with your ignorance.”

The words stung, though she had spoken in a casual tone. Wendel felt his face flush with warmth. He stood up quickly pushing the chair back with a scraping sound. Neither of the women said anything, Clara was still emptying her cupboards as if she was being robbed, and Dr. Mendes had made her way into the scullery and was cleaning up the dishes. Wendel hurried out, brushing past the neat furniture without a glance. The sun warmed his face, and the air felt thick in his lungs. He kept walking across the soft earth until he reached the edge of the yard marked with a fence.

The fence post felt smooth under his hand, he was leaning awkwardly, trying to look nonchalant. Tears were welling up in his eyes, and he fought them valiantly, but her words had cut too deeply this time. Why doesn’t she just tell me to go back to the University if she hates me so much! Everywhere we go, she gives half our stuff away, and now we find out this woman actually did cause the problem, and we take a bribe!

Wendel stripped off his travelpack and began rummaging through the dirty clothes and past his spellbooks and his journals. At the very bottom, sewn into the lining of the bag was a secret pocket, that contained a very thin metal box. He removed this from the bag, and uttered a few words to unlock it. The box popped open, and inside there were platinum chips, and a few sheets of unbroken gold. I probably have enough to get back to the school. He thought about what the journey would be like back without Dr. Mendes to guide him. He wasn’t even sure which way he needed to walk to get to the king’s road from here. There seemed to be no clear path leading to or from the old woman’s cabin.

Maybe I can apprentice under Fiona. Wendel put his money back in the box and locked it again, then put the box into the pocket of his trousers, or someone else in R and D. He gathered up his backpack and fixed it on his back again, looking around. The air here smelled so pleasantly from all the flowers Clara grew on her land. They’re going to ask me what happened. He was trying to get his bearings, there were coniferous trees that they passed on their way from the tree farm, but he didn’t see any that looked familiar. I’ll just tell them that Dr. Mendes dismissed me. Then they’ll think I failed but-

His thoughts were cut off abruptly by Dr. Mendes’ voice, she was standing in the doorway of the cabin. “Wendel!” She was not yelling yet her voice carried, and Wendel looked at her from across the yard, “What are you doing! We need to pack up these supplies, if you needed to relieve yourself, you could have at least excused yourself. You’re being rude to Clara.”

Wendel squared his shoulders, and walked back to where Dr. Mendes was standing, he said, “I don’t care if I’m rude to her, she’s a criminal! You can’t just let people get away with breaking the law because they’re your friends, or they give you food.”

Dr. Mendes took two quick steps, and then her hand snapped out like a snake. She caught his chin firmly but gently. She turned his face, so he was meeting her black on black eyes, “What do you suggest I do, Wendel? Arrest Clara? Or perhaps you’d prefer that I arrest the entire town of Kentvale, because I trust Clara. Did you even listen to what she said about the halflings?”

Wendel was trying to free himself from her grip, but she held him firm and he couldn’t look away from her eyes, “I heard what she said! And that needs to be reported too!”

“Really? Reported to whom? What statute states that halflings have the same rights as humans?”

“I don’t know! But I know that you can’t just take people’s land!”

“Do you think that Curtis Carter thinks of halflings as people? Or the University?” Her words had an edge to them. She released his chin but still he didn’t look away.

Wendel was at a loss, and he felt ashamed of his behavior, but he didn’t think he could so easily abandon his indignation without looking even more foolish, “The law states that any sentient creatures have rights, king Hubert instituted a law after the slaughter of the nagas, I remember reading about that in history.”

“King Hubert is dead.” Dr. Mendes sighed heavily and then said, “Wendel, I know that this situation is complex and you think that the law lets us abandon our responsibility to reason, but that is not the purpose of the law. The purpose of most laws is a means for people with power to oppress those with less. To make sure that people that have continue to acquire. Now, come help me pack up the food that Clara has so generously given us, because I’ve never been to Uriel before and I don’t know what is going to be waiting for us there. According to the information I received, the entire population is dead, which means we will not be eating anything from anywhere near there.”

Wendel followed Dr. Mendes back inside, and together with Clara they filled their packs with food and waterskins. Clara produced two more sturdy packs, and by the time they were finished packing, Wendel felt as if they had enough food to last for a month or two. His apology to Clara had been met with a laugh, and all she said was “Makes no nevermind to me when a child throws a tantrum.” Wendel felt his face flush again at this.

Clara hugged Dr. Mendes heartily, and the three of them stood in front of her small cabin, “How’re you traveling? You’re not going to try and teleport somewhere you’ve never been before are you?” Clara and Dr. Mendes laughed at this, though the idea seemed fanciful to Wendel, “That seems beyond even your skill.”

Dr. Mendes produced a long, barbed quill and held it out for Clara to examine. The old woman took it carefully in her hand, and held it very close to her face, “My word, I didn’t know. Will I be able to meet them?” Clara seemed reverent, returning the quill as if it were something sacred.

Dr. Mendes held it up to the sun, and looked at it, “I think so, yes. We’ve already imposed upon your kindness, but if you have a hen you could spare for him, I would appreciate it.” She shook her left hand in the air so that her khaki sleeve slid down her arm slightly, and then she pricked her skin with the quill. A tiny bead of blood welled up, and Dr. Mendes seemed to be coaxing it onto the quill. Wendel wanted a closer look the at the quill, but so laden as he was with the straps of heavy bags digging into his shoulders, he didn’t think he could get closer surreptitiously.

Time passed, Dr. Mendes was still staring at the now dried blood on the vicious looking quill, and it was Clara who broke the silence returning with a fat placid hen cradled in her arms, “Will they come with me and the boy here?”

Dr. Mendes looked up, as if drawn out of a trance, “I should say so, yes.”

A shadow fell over the trio, and the air was filled with a powerful musky smell. Wendel looked up, excited, and saw heavy wings beating on a figure soaring over head. A griffin! The creature had a massive wingspan, and though Wendel had never seen a griffin, he knew it must be one. Another pass, and with it another powerful, and decidedly masculine smell, and he got a better look at the creature. The wings seemed to have no feathers, leathery powerful wings, that beat the air down in whorls. Dust began kicking up from the recently tilled soil, and the creature got close enough for Wendel to make out its features. It’s head was like that of a massive jungle cat, with huge fangs that hung over the bottom of its jaw and a ruff of fur around its neck that was like a fire, bright red in the afternoon sun.

It was not a griffin. Rear and hind legs were covered in scales, with terrifying spikes sticking out at the joints. The claws on the front feet were like the claws of a lizard. A deadly lizard. Though the creatures face was like that of a cat, below its mane was an armored, black body of scales and sinew. Its tail was perhaps the most disturbing feature of all, and Wendel no longer wondered where the quill that Dr. Mendes had used to summon the creature came from. Wendel had not seen anything like it since primary school. Biology was an elective he had never opted into, and he couldn’t remember what the hideous end of the creature’s tail was called, though he had read its name in a book when he was very young.

“It’s called a telson.” The creature spoke with a booming voice that seemed to reverberate in Wendel’s sternum.

“Oh! Karene, he’s so beautiful.” Clara’s voice was like a child’s, high and girlish.

“Kevin, I thank you for answering my call, Clara has a gift for you.” Dr. Mendes gestured to the hen the old woman was cradling in her delicate looking hands.

“I thank you for your kindness, a gift freely given.” Kevin spoke and again Wendel felt the words in his chest. He noticed that the creature’s mouth did not seem to move when he spoke.

As Kevin stepped towards Clara, she proffered the hen. Kevin’s spike covered tail was a hand’s width from Clara’s face. Wendel felt himself shudder, and as the creature grasped the hen in one massive foreclaw, Wendel turned away. “I thank you for giving me your life, small bird.” Wendel heard a horrible crunching and slurping noise.

When the sounds of life being extinguished and renewed ended, Wendel turned back to look again. “You’re a manticore!”

“Very astute observation Wendel.” Dr. Mendes was strapping leather bands to Kevin’s back and around his midsection. “Well Clara, thank you for the supplies, best of luck to you with the beetle problem.”

Clara stepped across the soft earth to Dr. Mendes and hugged her tight, the doctor returned her embrace with equal affection, “Karene, you take care of yourself, and don’t hesitate to come and see me if you need help with the stookies.”

The doctor smiled and checked the tightness of the straps on Kevin once more, “Is that all right? Comfortable?”

Kevin’s voice vibrated inside Wendel’s chest again like an invading army, “Quite comfortable, dear one. I am ready to depart when you are.”

Dr. Mendes gracefully threw herself onto Kevin’s back. It was a confused moment for Wendel as the manticore’s haunches were easily as high as her chest. Her movement was practised and fluid, like slipping into a comfortable chair. She called down to Wendel, “Climb on.”

Wendel eyes widened, he couldn’t seem to look away from the vicious tail and it’s telson, wet with what could only be venom. Dr. Mendes looked expectantly down at him. He placed one hand tentatively on the manticore’s back carefully between the ridgeline of spikes. The armored scales felt warm beneath his hand. Just like swinging myself up onto a horse. Wendel tried the jumping leg swing that Dr. Mendes had employed so successfully. His hand slipped under his own weight, and his palm was laid open on the line of spikes. Into the soft earth he tumbled, leaving a long line of blood on the manticore’s side. Wendel closed his eyes tightly, and braced for the laughter. There was none.

“I could perhaps kneel slightly? It seems your morsel is a tender one.” The voice boomed from within and he could not shut it out. There was no laughter and the bass tones were not derisive but Wendel felt his face flush hot once more.

“Perhaps that would be best.” Dr. Mendes’ voice came from a long way off. A rough, calloused hand grabbed his uninjured hand and Wendel was pulled to his feet by Clara. He opened his eyes, and Kevin was kneeling with his front legs bent slightly. Clara was bent over in front of him with her hands linked together in front of her, looking at him expectantly.

“Come on boy, step up.” Clara sounded nonplussed as if helping someone mount a manticore was the most obvious thing in the world, “Don’t worry about me, I’m stronger than I look.”

Wendel’s face couldn’t grow any redder, it clashed violently with his hair, pink on orange, reluctantly he put his hand onto the manticore’s back again, and then stepped into Clara’s clasped hands. With her help, he was able to lift himself onto the beast’s back and he noticed gratefully that there was a smooth spot free of spikes that stretched from behind the base of his wings to the beginning of the still blood smeared haunch. Hesitantly he scooched forward slightly into the place devoid of spikes, but not so far as to be touching Dr. Mendes.

“Wendel, you’re going to need hold onto me, unless you want to fall off. We’re going to be flying.” Dr. Mendes was adjusting the straps she had wrapped around Kevin’s chest, doubling and then tripling coils around her wrists. Wendel scooched forward slightly and very tentatively put his arms around her midsection. Dr. Mendes sighed, “Tighter, Wendel. I don’t have time right now to find your body.”

Before he could decide if he was going to tighten his grip, powerful shudders wracked his body, and dirt carried up on the wind swept over his face. Wendel’s grip immediately tightened, his chest pressed against her back. The ground was falling away. Clara was waving up at them, smiling, and her figure was growing smaller and smaller. Wendel continued looking over the side, the trees grew to be tiny things, and Clara’s cottage looked like a toy house. He was swept up in waves of dizziness. He turned his eyes forward to look at Dr. Mendes’ back.