Alora: The Portal

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Authors: Tamie Dearen
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    “Take this—I’ve an extra sword. And you can carry this sharpstop if you like. The strap won’t fit over my splint.”
    Kaevin accepted the weapons from Jireo, his heart lifting at the familiar feel of the sword in his hand. He wanted to strip off his foreign clothes and change into his own leather pants. He wanted to fight like a true Stone Clansman. It wasn’t fair that his friend had already been wounded and was back in the fray while he was relegated to assisting Alora.
    “Have you seen the wendt?” Alora asked.
    “Only one,” Wesley answered, straining his eyes as a cloud passed over the moon. “I got one arrow into him, but it didn’t even slow him down. My other arrow just bounced off his hide. I thought maybe the other archers could aim at the shaft, but you can’t see it very well in the moonlight.”
    “The wendt got someone.” Wesley continued in a shaky voice, swallowing hard. “It was horrible. I can’t get the image out of my mind. He was screaming, begging for help. The other archers shot at him. You know, they could see the warrior even though they couldn’t see the wendt. One of the arrows killed the warrior; at least I hope that’s what happened. He finally stopped screaming.”
    “Did they kill the wendt?” Kaevin knew the answer even before he asked.
    “It was too far away, and that hide is too tough. Two arrows actually hit, I think, but couldn’t penetrate that skin or scales or whatever it is. I wish I had my compound bow. I could totally get this thing if I had it.”
    Kaevin felt a tug on his shirt and turned to see Alora motioning to whisper in his ear. “We could get that compound bow for him. We might have a better chance than attempting to send that wendt to Vindrake. You know, it’s really hard for me to see it well enough to get a grip on it.”
    “To get a grip on it?”
    “That’s the best way I can describe it. I have to be able to grab it with my mind. Animals are so much harder than people unless you know them well.”
    He growled his irritation. Running off to Montana wouldn’t help his pride, but Alora’s reasoning was sound.
    “Very well, we’ll go get his bow,” he muttered, handing his weapons back to Jireo.
    “Wesley, where do you keep that bow?” Alora asked. “Can we get it without your parents spotting us?”
    “You’re gonna get it for me?” His eyes lit up. “Awesome. It’s in my room, though. Have you ever been there?”
    Her face fell. “No, I’ve only been in your kitchen and living room.”
    “I’ve been in his room,” Kaevin said.
    “Maybe that’ll work.” Alora scrunched up her nose.
    “We’ve transported successfully with me guiding in the past, but we need to hurry.” Kaevin pulled her to the side, anxious to grab the bow and return to the battle.
    “You have to concentrate on Wesley’s room. Can you picture it in your mind? It’s easier to go to a person than a place, you know. You don’t want to lead us to the wrong place.”
    “I can do it. Go ahead—I’m thinking about it.” He tried to hide his impatience as he closed his eyes to concentrate. He felt the platform shift under his feet, and suddenly the chill air was gone.
     
    “Alora? Kaevin? What are you doing here? And where’s Wesley?”
    Kaevin opened his eyes to face Wesley’s father, Brian Franks, standing in the family’s den, rather than the desired bedroom.
    “Hi, Mr. Franks.” Alora’s face was white, and she spoke with a strained smile. “We were just fetching Wesley’s bow for him. We didn’t mean to bother you. We were supposed to pop right into his bedroom.”
    “Why didn’t Wesley come get it himself? And where is he planning to shoot his bow at this time of night? You need to pop right back to Wesley and tell him he’s out past curfew, even if it isn’t a school night. And ask him why he hasn’t answered his cell phone.”
    “Okay,

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