Could he be serious?

Lavina stared at Angon unblinking. "With me?"

It was true the half-elf girl had come to Triden's Gate on an archaeological quest to find an exact reason for the permanent winter stasis. But had she thought she'd get as lucky as to have a living treasure ask to return alongside her? Not in a score of lifetimes! It was fortune beyond belief and she couldn't be more excited. A squeal of glee escaped her lips.

Angon recoiled by her sudden excitement and wasn't sure if it meant she agreed or if she was in pain. Perhaps even dying? He watched her bounce up and down on the heels of her boots. He'd expected resistance, but was not disappointed.

"Can I accompany you for a time?" Angon wanted to be sure he wasn't imposing on her quest, whatever that may be.

"Yes!" She paced, looking at the ground. "Wow! I never thought—I mean—I never would've dreamed that; oh, by the stars! Can I prove my worth? Can I get Daneel's attention! What will Gavin think?"

Her smile melted into that of worry. What happened to her guardian?

Lavina put her hands to her mouth. "Gavin?"

Angon lifted his hands to silence her. "Calm down! More of those things may be around!"

The half-elf dropped her pack to the ground and followed it onto her knees. She tore open the drawstring bag and dug inside looking for something.

"Who is Daneel? What is a Gavin?" Angon tilted his head.

"Sol elves like me!" She pushed aside digging tools. "Well, not. I'm only half elf, but that isn't important right now."

He didn't get why he seemed strange inside when she spoke of Daneels and Gavins. Why was there tension in his gut? A tightness as if someone was pulling apart his inner workings. He didn't like the weirdness brought on by thoughts of such things so he asked her a question.

"What is a sol? And you do not appear like half of a person. Your body appears developed."

Lavina's face burned rosy red. She stopped what she was doing. Developed? Did he comment on her chest or butt? She looked down to examine herself. She didn't want to develop further, being a little top heavy for her own good. A machine complimenting her in such a way was confusing. Lavina shook her head and stopped the crazy thoughts.

"Sols are elves." She raised a finger. "When born in the daylight we develop hair and skin somewhat like mine. A full sol elf often gets blonde hair and fair skin. Since I'm half, my hair is closer to red."

It seemed to make sense now. What if an elf birthed at night? Or at dusk? What about dawn as well?

A heavy gust of wind blew Lavina's cloak open wide revealing shapely legs, a flat belly, small cute naval and heavy cleavage. Things she liked to hide. A beginning sorceress, she couldn't cast with armor, so she wore little. To her dismay, it made her look skimpy.

"Fair skin." Angon's eyes locked onto her stomach and added to her description. "You are smooth?"

He examined his hand which looked more rough than smooth and much like gloves. No flesh.

She giggled. "I am smooth. Do you want to touch me?"

Angon's eye orbs widened.

Lavina realized her words came wrong. She shook her head. "I mean my arm. Here!"

The girl held out her arm and Angon took it in his hands, careful not to harm her. What had he expected? He knew not. "... Nothing. What is wrong with me?

Lavina looked sad and skipped in to give the big guy a hug. "Nothing is wrong with you. The magic that makes you run must not have allowed for all the senses."

He frowned. "Am I smooth?"

She hesitated. He was a huge chunk of metal, cold and not alive. But she didn't care to dishearten her new friend.

"Warm like the sun," she fibbed.

"I do not understand. Warm? What is the sun? Is that good?"

"You need to learn little don't you?" She bounced. "This is so exciting. I'll be your teacher! But first we must find—Gavin!"

Panic filled her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

"What's a Gavin?"

"Come on, Angon!" Lavina grabbed his large hand, several times the size of hers.

As she pulled him along the street her worry grew. The orcs were silent, which meant Gavin may be... no, she wouldn't even allow herself to think it.

Lavina broke away from Angon and ran as fast as her legs would carry her. The giant machine watched her as she went her cloak flailing wild in the wind showing her thighs and lower back. He wanted to look away. What was it about skin? Either way he followed her to find a Gavin, whatever that would be.

***

The sol elf's mind raced. He felt the disc in his side pouch. The Blood Tomb. How was it possible they had returned and what did it mean for the Nine Lands? Gavin shook away the thoughts. He would have to bring it to the Windale council. For he knew he need find young Lavina or her father would have his head and he was fond of it.

As he went he pulled arrows from the dead orcs, cursing himself in silence for making the amateur mistake of running out. He shouldn't have left Lavina! But he needed to lure them away from Lavina! He hadn't seen the dark cloaked ones come in his wake and that made him worry. Gavin kept didn't care about being stealthy, each boot crunching snow and ice beneath him.

At the locale where he left Lavina, he stopped. The more he searched, the more fear attacked. She'd left no trace. Not even footprints were visible.

"Lavina!" He spoke loud as he dared, but the wind alone was greater than the volume of his voice. It blew snow dust into his eyes, inhibiting visibility.

Gavin turned full circle in the road. He didn't see the bodies of the first orcs he had slain. His heart thumped hard against his ribs. It couldn't be the same place, he decided. The damned town was a maze of ruins. With closed eyes, he listened. Maybe if he focused, he could use his superior hearing.

A dozen rapid thuds!

"Lavina Mistystar?" a child-like voice carried on the wind. "Where did you go?"

Gavin spun, bow and arrow in hand. He prepared to fire at an orc or worse, but the giant before him caused a fearful squeal. The arrow loosed. It ricocheted and flew away.

The archer hopped back and with keen eyes scanned it from top to bottom. Chiseled like one of the eastern barbarians, it bore muscular arms, legs, a broad chest, and a strong jaw. It didn't have the typical ears of a Barbarian. Instead he had a paid of huge horns. And in bad taste the statue didn't wear armor nor garments of any kind. It appeared stark naked. At least they hadn't detailed the lower area of the ugly piece of art.

"Where did you come from?" Gavin made a slow circle.

Something put it there to scare him. Perhaps sorcery? A game of illusion Lavina oft played.

"Have you seen a girl?" a voice asked from above him.

"Show yourself!" Gavin spun whilst aiming his bow.

He found himself alone. "Fetter..."

Gavin wanted out of the forsaken town. If orcs or worse didn't get him, he would lose his sanity. The voice was nothing more than wind. Yes, that was all.

He leaped a yard or more crying out again. The turned and faced his way. The elf took several steps back, never letting his eyes leave the iron mystery. It was most definite—it had to be an illusion. Or a gargoyle? But if that were true why didn't it attack?

"Gavin!" Lavina wrapped her arms around her friend from his flank.

Once again, Gavin screeched. "Lavina! Good gods don't do that! Where were you? I was worry stricken!"

She released her tight grasp.

"Are you all right?" He grabbed her arms, looking for an injury.

"I'm fine, Gavin." She tried to pull away. "Stop! You're tickling me!"

Gavin released his grasp and chuckled.

"I used my compass stone to find you." She held up a small sleek stone she'd pulled from her pack.

He cursed himself for leaving his own back in Windale. The compass stones were most useful when finding someone to whom the particular stone attuned.

"You worried me sick." Gavin scratched the back of his head. "I almost wet my undergarments!"

Lavina burst into sweet laughter. "You shouldn't have been. If I remember, the orcs were after you, not me."

"The whole pack didn't follow!" Gavin wrapped his female friend in a quick hug. "I counted too few and not a single one of the black cloaks.

"The black cloaks left." She shrugged. "But a pair of orcs found me. They're dead though."

"What?" Gavin grabbed her shoulders. "How did you fend them off? You have a small repertoire of spells but they had axes as big as you!"

"I didn't need spells." She smiled and pointed behind him.

"I defeated them."

Gavin hoped it to be the wind the first time but now he knew it wasn't. The poor elf had never jumped as high, almost losing his boots. Lavina threw a wink at Angon as Gavin fell to his behind and scrambled away on all fours.

"By the gods' hairy chins, what in the stars are you?" Gavin pointed at the living statue.

The seven, no at least eight heads tall thing shrugged its shoulders. "I'm not sure. But you, you are a Gavin, yes?"

The poor elf watched in horror as the creature walked toward him.

"Lavina, run!" Gavin pleaded, sure his time had come. "Save yourself!"

The girl stood her ground and bounced on her feet. Why was she not running? In fact she didn't appear to be at all frightened. She had gone mad from fear—no, the monster had her under a spell!

The behemoth leaned down and offered his hand. Gavin closed his eyes sure to have a fist squash him like a doodlebee. But that didn't happen. No pain, no death, no squashing.

"Gavin?" Lavina sighed. "You are making a honkadonk out of yourself."

First, he opened his eyes, and second he blinked in stupor. The gargoyle hadn't crushed him? It appeared to be trying to help him to his feet. Gavin looked to Lavina, and she nodded her approval.

Angon took the Gavin's hand and pulled lifted him with no effort at all. This one differed from Lavina. Unlike the half-elf, he didn't have a protruding chest, and wore short yellow hair. He stood two heads taller, and had large, vertical ears.

"What are you?" The eld narrowed his eyes.

Angon shrugged.

"This is Angon!" Lavina clapped her gloves hands. "He's..."

She wasn't sure how describe him.

"He's what?" Gavin asked. "A murderous gargoyle? An artifact for you to play with? He is not alive and could try to kill us!"

A frown fell across Angon's lips. If not alive then what? He wasn't liking this Gavin thing. Why had Lavina been so dead set on finding it?

"Don't be so cruel!" Lavina punched Gavin on the arm which didn't hurt.

"Rude?" Gavin scoffed. "To a chunk of ore?"

Angon shook his head. "I do not know what I am but I assure you I live as you do, although I am not a Gavin, I believe."

The elf laughed. "Haha! I am not a Gavin! My name is Gavin!"

Angon knew little of the difference. And none of the three, even with their amazing ears, realized they were being watched.

***

On a mountainside east of Triden's Gate, was one of the black cloaked creatures. It stood on a ledge, just outside the cave where it had been staying for a dark moon.

Behind came the green beauty Gonzeelda, flanked by her minions, Weiggs and Budge.

"The homunculus awakened," a tired voice came from the black cloak.

Gonzeelda crossed her arms and regarded her boss. "Tis true."

"And what am services am I paying you for, my dear?"

"To find and destroy it," the lady orc shifted from foot to foot.

"It is apparent that you have failed me in this task," was its response, "why is that again?"

She furrowed her brows. "I didn't feel it worth losing all of my men."

"I did not pay you to feel!"

"You did not pay me enough." She shrugged. "Nor was I warned that a skilled archer would stand in our way."

From under the hood of her client two red dots flared into balls of fire. Lightning crackled from the tips of his sleeves.

Gonzeelda's henchmen saw this and stepped back, ready to flee, but she stood her ground.

"You cannot handle a single sol elf?" The black cloak screamed with a voice so thunderous that rocks crumbled from the mountain above them.

This time Weiggs and Budge ran away covering their heads, hiding in the cave. Gonzeelda's eyes narrows at her lackey's cowardice. She would have to kiss dirt to survive.

"Oh, mighty Lord Reischerr." She fell to one knee, on the cool stone. "I will not fail again."

"Try not to." Reischerr turned away. "Or you will lose more than your filthy orc playthings. You will lose your freedom and become my plaything."

Gonzeelda shivered at that thought and rose to her feet. She wasn't being paid enough to receive threats and become the slave of a rotting corpse. She walked away not saying another word.

Inside, Gonzeelda found her two lackeys. The orc woman preferred living flesh; warm and more enjoyable. She raised her fist and Weiggs and Budge flanked her once again. She was ready to punch them if they uttered a word.

When neither did, she walked further into the cave grumbling, "I hate working with undead."